Caleb Gordon Merch Novels & Stories

“Because it’ll throw him off—and I live for that.” Caleb stands near a high-top table with a group of people who look like they own the city. He’s in a crisp dark button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled just enough to show off his forearms, tailored charcoal pants that hug just right, and leather shoes that gleam under the dim lights. He’s got an almost empty drink in one hand and command in the other, completely in his element: confident, magnetic, unfairly good-looking. My stomach flutters just watching him. He doesn’t notice me until David says, “Look what I found.”

Now, the corridor smelled faintly of cardboard boxes and industrial floor cleaner. I pushed open the door to the auxiliary training room. It was mostly empty, but a single silhouette sat on the long bench beneath the rows of vacated lockers. Caleb didn't look up when the door clicked shut. He was wearing an old, frayed Harrison grey sweat suit, his left leg elevated on a low foam block, wrapped tightly in heavy medical tape. A single duffel bag sat open between his feet, half-filled with old tape rolls, skate guards, and a pair of worn-out training blades.

The heavy double doors of the boardroom didn't just open; they bounced off the walls, the glass fracturing into a spiderweb pattern. The entire board leapt to their feet. Walking through the threshold was Caleb Miller. He wasn't wearing his standard tailored Tom Ford suit. He was wearing his black tactical trousers, a simple linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his scarred forearms, and a heavy bandage wrapped tightly around his neck. His eyes were pure, predatory midnight. But he didn't walk to the head of the table. He stood by the door, acting as the guard. Step by step, the click of high heels echoed against the marble floor.

He rounded the desk and leaned back against it, arms crossed. “Take off the backpack.” Caleb let it slide to the floor with a soft thud. “And the hoodie.” Caleb gripped the hem, peeled it over his head. Underneath was a plain white T-shirt stretched across a runner’s chest—defined pecs, flat stomach, the shadow of a happy trail disappearing into low-slung jeans. No braiding, no pretense. Just smooth, tanned skin and the faint outline of hard nipples against cotton. Elias’s cock twitched in his slacks.

He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days, and he was on the verge of losing his mind. At that moment, Carl walked in, addressing Barry and Delphine. "Mr. Schmidt, someone has acquired Caleb’s company. The company that bought it is G Company." Barry was surprised. "So fast?" "Yes, I just saw the news." Carl took out a newspaper to show him. Barry glanced at the news. He didn’t recognize the name of G Company. "Wait, is there actually a company called G Company?" Barry asked, perplexed. Carl smiled, "Who knows? It’s just G Company. Caleb even sold off some of his assets, leaving only the villa and a shopping mall. He should be set for his retirement. The money he made from selling everything

Caleb picked up a glass of champagne and handed it to Dawson. "I heard that Mr. Mercer canceled all of our collaborative projects." "That's right." "Why? What did I do wrong?" Caleb asked. "Well, you weren't good enough anywhere." Caleb: ... Never in a million years did I expect it. I thought Dawson would be polite and courteous, but I never expected him to pull this stunt.

Sanders. [That's right, I envy them for being a match made in heaven. Please have a long-lasting relationship!] Caleb was happy when he saw that the rumors online crumbled on their own. He then announced a piece of news in his news feed. [Everyone, thank you for supporting Em. In order to thank you all, Lane Group's products will be on sale at a 50% off for a limited time.] The netizens couldn't contain their excitement upon hearing the announcement.

However, when his father was well enough to continue running the business he realized that Nicholas was already doing such a good job so he gave him the company. Caleb has dark brown hair and blue eyes. He is 25 years of age and is currently the owner of the famous clothes brand 'Binge'. His outgoing personality and magnetic presence have earned him a reputation as a complete flirt. While some may find it irresistible, others may struggle to keep up with his flirtatious banter

"Mr. Fergerson, are you coming in?" Caleb did not say anything and glanced at Luna. For some reason, Luna felt nervous, so she quickly lowered her head and walked out. Caleb walked in, and the rest of the higher-ups followed him. Penny stepped aside and wondered why Caleb did not use the exclusive elevator. She did not know that the exclusive elevator was under repair and Caleb had somewhere to go. There were a lot of different emotions running in the small elevator. Penny's gaze fell on Caleb's cuffs. He changed his cufflinks and put on the silver-blue cufflinks that Charlotte had just given him. They matched well with his suit and highlighted his distinctive but cold features.

and drew emojis. Rebecca stopped before the banner. She recognized the username that Caleb previously used for Alex's autographs. She couldn't help but ask, "Caleb, how do you know Alex signs his autographs with this username? Do you also watch his competitions?" Caleb turned away from the banner to glance at Rebecca. His lips curved ever so slightly. "You hadn't returned home at the time. Naturally, you're unaware that I started the Calx Esports Club with Alex. It's only natural that I keep an eye on his competitions. Besides, Alex is my brother, isn't he?"