Benedict Bridgerton Novels & Stories

Beatrice told herself as she grabbed her Samsung mobile phone and had a mirror picture. Suddenly, a knock was heard on the door, and Beatrice quickly grabbed her clutches and hurried to the door. For some unknown reason, she felt a bit happy. Beatrice opened the door and standing before her was Ben… He looked so handsome and classic in the black suit he was wearing. He wasn't a male model, but currently, he should have been. His black jet hair was neatly and stylishly cut, and his crescent of moon eyebrows were thin and narrow. The aquiline nose he had complimented his prominent cheekbones. Handsome was an understatement for him, his basalt jaw and wide shoulders possess the authority he had

“Bentley?” The owner of BAM, my biggest client, and my friend, stood. Bentley Ridge was a brilliant businessman, stern, unflappable, and known for his rigid, standoffish ways. Except for the people he cared about. He adored his wife, his love for her eclipsing the cold front he presented to the world. He was an amazing friend, generous, and giving to a fault. “What are you doing here?” He strode forward and shook my hand, then in an uncharacteristic gesture, leaned down and hugged me. It was awkward and stilted, but it meant a great deal. He clapped me on the back and stood.

"I said, His Highness is free before nine." "Damn you, Abby! I've told you I don't want to meet any lord or duke or whoever with the title." Edvard scowled. He had plenty of noble fathers who wanted to play matchmaker, matchmaking their daughters and him. Like they were selling their daughters. "Lord Silverstone doesn't have any daughter, Your Highness." Said Abigail calmly. Twenty years being Edvard's personal assistant, she knew him inside out. She didn't hesitate to make physical contact, like she did earlier, forcing him back to sit. But she never left the honorific behind whenever she talked to him.

She asked, her brows pulled together in confusion. Damn, she was absolutely beautiful. Even with puffy eyes and snot running down her nose. In all my thirty years, I couldn't think of a single woman I have met that was this stunning to me. “He is telling me that if I don’t marry, he will take away my inheritance. It isn’t that I need the money, but that kind of money would be able to help a lot of sick people. I had planned to donate the money to a cancer research center.”

This man is a teller and even his aura kept everyone miles away from him. Even the bride noticed this and she immediately left her uncle's arms and walked to him. Grabbing his hand, she asked with a trembling voice... " Who are you ? I have seen Master Nelson and you are nothing like him. " For a second, a hint of surprise came over him but it quickly disappeared without any trace, leaving his cold look and emotionless face.... He stared blankly at the little hand holding his down to the owner. He said with a nonchalant voice ", you must be my bride ? " It came like a question but at the same time, he stated the fact.

"I'm just glad to have bumped into my ex-girlfriend on a rare occasion like this. Was that bad?" "So bad," I whispered. I'm not your ex, silly. Bennet didn't answer but his gaze turned even worse to BENEDICT. It's like he's back to the Bennet version 1 I used to know. The Monster. After a while, BENEDICT recoiled a bit. He seemed shaken by Mister's gaze. The man's eyebrows rose before the beautiful smile on his lips was erased. "Tsh! Leofwin, always the ferocious," said the man.

Zoe walked into ‘the Vogue Vision’ fashion show dressed in a very elegant emerald dress and silver stones around her neck. The shutter sound of the camera was almost deafening but she had her best smile on as always. She wasn’t surprised that a lot of the media wanted to take pictures of her face because not only was she a beauty to behold, she was the daughter of Margery Madrigal and also the wife of Avery Trent.

Julian was the second-best actor in the room, but she didn’t want him as the second-biggest part. She wanted Nicholas. Honest, steadfast Nicholas, who was so straightforward, he didn’t know how to lie well enough to act his way out of a wet paper bag. “My eyes don’t deceive me,” Bridget said, coming closer to him. She was a true professional. If she was in a scene with a bad actor, she just needed to act well enough for the both of them. “Oh, my love, I am so glad you are here. Tell me. Do you bring good news of our engagement?”

He smiled while shaking his head, while the secretary was next to him. "She is the woman Apollo married, and yet he had no guts to introduce her. Poor woman," the old man said. "Are you sure, Mr. Brooklyn?" asked his secretary in disbelief. "Hmm, yes. Just look at their wedding ring," the old man replied. The woman looked, and she couldn't believe that one of the youngest billionaires was married to his assistant. The woman was excited and wanted to share some great news with her friends. As they walked away, Melody felt her vision darken and shook her head to adjust it, but it continued to worsen.

Elizabeth can't help but imagine what he might be like based on the painting and the aura it portrays. She envisions Mr. Dominic Bradford as a refined gentleman, exuding an air of authority and sophistication. Perhaps he possesses a commanding presence, with a strong jawline and piercing eyes that reveal a keen intellect. She imagines him to be impeccably dressed at all times, his demeanor exuding confidence and grace. However, Elizabeth also recognizes that appearances can be deceiving, and she acknowledges the need to reserve judgment until she has the opportunity to meet Mr. Bradford in person. She realizes that her role as a maid will provide her with insights into his character and pref