Novel & Cerita Benson X Mordecai

Benette went on, glad that he finally found someone to talk to about the events on that mysterious day. “Point taken,” Mordecai said thoughtfully. “We just need to let him see the truth on his own.” “So, what do you think we should do now?” asked Benette. He watched as Mordecai walked towards two students dueling. One just fell on the ground, admitting defeat, and Mordecai was fast to heal the scratches on his arm. “Oh! I almost forgot about our duel!” Benette said, mostly to himself.

I am going to the refectory. She left. I just stood there. Speechless. "No no, you gotta be kidding me" I muttered as I started dressing up to meet with Mercury, she might have an idea. I can't lose my sister to this saga. ***************************************** ""Uh uhh! Now that's pretty bad." Mercury said trying to think of something. I paced her room sweating. "What would Benson be going to the Dogma's den for? Does he have a death wish?" "Benson thinks that the Dogma's have the book, and going to their Den, The Dogma's will kill them all, all of them. No one's takes a fight to the beast in his territory"

Once again, I was completely shocked he didn’t take it the wrong way. It turns out Benson is a fan of the Red Moon Melody, the name of Chaze’s band, also known as RMM. That picture was taken several days ago. I thought that was the reason Chaze wanted to meet with me, alone. I was about to find out that things were going to change even more.

I asked with a bit of humor to try and make him smile since it looked like he could use a smile for himself. He smiled and nodded his head. "I suppose it would help you out here. I don't need anyone too serious dear. Just need someone who's willing to do work but you will never be alone with a patient for your own safety and protection." "I understand, One of your guards named Martin said he would be willing to protect me." "Ah yes him, he is our best guard." Mr. Baxter spoke with a bit of a smirk.

Her scent was strong enough that I knew she wasn’t far, but the smell of blood and gunpowder still lingered in the air. I turned to Felix, “Find Renda and Grace for me.” He blinked and startled looking at me before flashing me a nervous smile and nodded. “You got it.” A car pulled up and Ben stepped out, his brow furrowing as he charged toward me. “What have you—” “Ben,” Mordecai said calmly, leaning against the hood of his car. “Do remember whose territory you’re in.” He turned and looked at Mordecai. He glared at me before going towards Mordecai.

He looks between me and his little printsessa and his hands curl into a fist. I move my eyes away from the approaching Mae, wanting to continue my discussion with her father. “What are you doing over here, Mae?” Benson’s voice comes out fast as if he doesn’t want Mae near me. “You kept us waiting, for christ sake!” She freaks us. Oh, Mae is with Benson’s fuckbuddy and they’re left hanging because of my discussion with her dad. “Speak no more!!” Benson howls, holding his hand midair, and immediately, Mae shuts her lips, though she still walks over to me.

And then—Benson. He was leaning casually against a pillar, whiskey glass in hand, his face sharpened into a smirk the moment he spotted us. "Well, well," Benson drawled, his voice oozing sugar-coated venom. "If it isn't the man of the hour. Aaron Warner. You clean up nicely. Almost didn't recognize you without your usual… corporate armor." Aaron's jaw tightened, but his smile didn't falter. "Benson." "And you are." Benson's gaze swung to me, lingering too long. "Ah, the husband. You're adorable."

Benson Hill, the son to Gertrude and a cousin to Dion was in town. He was out with two of his goons on lunch. They sat at their table and discussed way forward. “I thought you'd have forgiven him by now.” Ted said, “Considering that he’s changed and all.”

I stepped closer. It looked rugged. Dark finish. Deep scratches across one side. Custom cage. It had weight to it, even just from looking at it. “That’s a Bauer Re-Akt Pro custom,” a thick voice said behind me. “Limited edition.” I stiffened. I didn’t have to turn around to know that voice. But I did anyway. My father—Benson Monroe—was coming down the stairs in a robe, hair still damp like he had just stepped out of the shower. He looked relaxed. Comfortable.

I asked, wondering and guessing inwardly. Mom’s smile became so contagious that I couldn’t help smiling back at her, “Hmmm,” she hummed, “You won’t believe Sam came with Rod Benson. Rod Benson is the only son and heir to James Benson, the CEO of Benson Dairy, the richest dairy company in New York.” The smile on my face glowered to sadness as I argued within me if mom was about to mention what was on my mind. I shrugged to continue the discussion. “Well, it is indeed a privilege to have such a personality around. I guess he gave you some gifts. That is why you are excited. Benson Dairy is a prestigious company. Sam did well by bringing along the heir.”