Brick Armstrong Novels & Stories

"You target different buyers. One Armstrong's firm wouldn't go for. They have a routine, and you just need to learn it." I'd already learned their routine a long time ago. They went for loud wealth. People who were also desperate to uphold status with their acquisitions. The kind of people who were prone to running themselves down with their own hands. "I heard you own major shares in Armstrong's firm. Isn't helping us potentially sabotaging your own investment?" Arnold asked. "And how do we know you aren't just obtaining information from us to help them?" That... That was a question I'd been expecting. I'd foreseen the trouble months ago.

"Thank you. For believing in me when I couldn't believe in myself." Armstrong closed the distance between us again, and this time when he touched me, his hand cupped my face with a tenderness that made my breath catch. "I see you, Lynn. Not the broken woman your husband tried to create. The real you. The strong, intelligent, creative woman who survived years of abuse and came out fighting." "Armstrong…" "And I want you," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Not because I paid for you. Not because you're convenient or because I feel sorry for you. I want you because you're fascinating and brave and beautiful, and I can't stop thinking about you."

And though I knew that I should have stopped, I knew that showing her weakness was going to be her way of thinking that she won, and I was not going to give her that. Anya bent, bringing her face close. “I am not afraid of you, girl.” “No?” My voice was hoarse. “Then why are your hands shaking?” They weren’t, but when I saw her looking down at them, despite my own pain, let out a mocking laugh. Her eyes hardened once more and she grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet, “get up and make yourself fucking useful.” I pulled myself away from her despite the anguish that I felt, and she glared at me.

The three stunning women in front of him were leagues above the likes of Hannah, and if he could land even one of them, he would die a happy man. "Ladies, I think I ought to reintroduce myself. I'm Hank Armstrong, Special Ops. You know what that is, right? We're the ones who handle high-level classified missions. You don't see us often on Holtrien soil, but when we do show up, we're always the center of attention." He laid it on thick, trying to paint himself as someone powerful and mysterious. That tactic had worked like a charm with Hannah before, but not this time. Lauren was already losing her patience. "Mr. Armstrong, yes, we heard you the first time. You're amazing, you're brave, and y

I had stared at the crooked lines on the floor then because looking up at him meant being crippled by the contempt in his eyes. But now, a decade later, I looked up. “Oh, I guess this is our first meeting.” “My name is Leo Armstrong, an investor in Wesley Group. It’s nice to meet you.” My tone was sharp and measured as it ought to be. Brad’s eyes flickered in a second of uncertainty, so little that most would have missed it. Of course, he was too proud to let the world see that he was on the losing end of a war he had started with his own hands. But I had been trained for years to notice weakness the way a starving dog notices crumbs that drop to the ground.

Liam retorted, "Mr. Blake, are you really sure that this has nothing to do with Ms. Feron? The police were there when you caused trouble at Ms. Feron's friend's shop, and I was told that you were being disrespectful to Ms. Feron herself. Did that slip your memory?" Upon hearing that, Blake had an epiphany. Immediately, Herbert defended him calmly, "It's normal for siblings to fight. Don't your children argue back home, Mr. Lawson?"

"Well, my daughter is not home right now. She's getting married to a son of the Carter family—Finn Carter." "What?!" The sharp exclamations came from two people at once—Beatrice and an unexpected voice from the doorway. Armstrong's head snapped toward the entrance. "Oh, neighbor! What are you doing there? Come in." The man stepped closer, his gaze locked on Armstrong. "Repeat what you just said, Mr. Smith." Armstrong frowned. Why did his neighbor care so much about his daughter's marriage? Hmm… my daughter must be quite the catch. From Liam Carter to his brother Finn… and now Charles Langford…

I rolled on the floor but he never stopped. My biggest mistake that day was not returning that lighter, but my biggest mistake that afternoon was moving closer and standing at ‘arm's length’. I was standing at arm's length alright... I was at arm's length but not at belt's length. As I checked later that afternoon, the bruises that belt had given me were ones meant for a criminal, but was I any less?

Old Lady Armstrong felt sad for her loss, but she could not let go of her anger at Celeste because of young master Davis. Old Lady Armstrong had treated people all her life harshly. Even her son and daughter-in-law had to do things her way. Remember to mention Celeste's mother, Felix Baker, even though she had to lower her status to serve her as she wanted. However, she had lost herself to Celeste today and had to tolerate all these humiliations in silence. Old Lady Armstrong was furious, and she could only endure.

My brain’s screaming to look away, my eyes tell my brain to get fucked. Leo moves like a pure viking berserker. Heavy, hard, all brutal strength and zero finesse. Every punch he throws is loud enough to shake bark loose from the trees. His back is carved from granite and another wicked scar slashes over one shoulder that makes me want to ask how he got it and kiss it at the same time. His thick, messy braid swings when he moves. His sweatpants hang dangerously low, flashing the promise of a V-line that could lead nations.