Novelas y relatos de Cole Robertson

~Prologue (In Lexia's Point Of View) "Cross him off the list." My assistant turns from where he was facing the board, looking at me sardonically. He's not really my assistant, in fact, he hates when I refer to him as that. But I wouldn't go as far to say that this man, Adrian, is my friend. "Why?" He questions, balancing a red permanent marker between his fingers. Rolling my eyes, I back up a few steps and sit on the edge of my desk, mindful of the papers scattered on it.

He crossed his legs and raised one of his eyebrows. "What the..." Miles paused, still surprised. Rob was still as handsome as always with his charming oval-shaped face, sharp jawline, a pair of black sparkling and charming, thick eyebrows, long natural eyelashes, broad chest and sexy biceps, and a perfect height of 6'1ft. "So..." Rob paused as he stood from the sofa and went to sit on the chair across from Miles. "Can I still be hired to be your assistant, boss?" Rob leaned forward with a sweet smile on his face.

They thanked him and shook hands with him while saying things like, "Okay, thank you, Mr. Robert." They said, "Ok, we will leave now," and Robert did nothing more than nod his head in agreement. Robert was a carbon copy of Xavier, in that he would not speak much and would always keep his cool demeanor and composure. That’s why they say Robert was the perfect assistant for Xavier. After the customers had left, Robert sat back and took a few moments to collect his thoughts while taking a deep breath.

But something in him locked into place, cold and methodical. “Robert was on the Cole Arts Board at the time,” he said. “He attended dozens of events. If Patricia wanted access to donors, he would have been useful. If Margaret wanted legitimacy, he would have been useful. If Northbridge wanted Cole money, Robert would have been useful.” “And if Robert wanted something?” Leah asked softly. Daniel looked at her. There it was. The question neither Elaine nor Daniel had said aloud. If Robert Cole had not merely been useful to others, but had used the room himself.

Aaron ordered. "Sure." After a few seconds. Aaron, Liam, James, and the Chief Secretary of the Roberts are sitting on the couch. The rest of the people are standing while protecting their members from the risk of evil. The Chief Secretary makes the video call to his boss, Robert. Robert appeared on TV. "Hello, Mr. Salvatore." Robert behaved wonderfully while giving him respect. "I appreciate your efforts. I have heard that you have worked very hard to protect my guard, so I want to say thank you all." Robert said while bending his head and thanking them.

The next few days felt lonely and quiet. The space he left felt like a huge void. The case Logan was working on was taking off. The media had finally got hold of the story. He sent me an article that had been released. I couldn’t believe it; the local police commissioner was being accused of marital rape and abuse. Logan admitted they had been asked to help prosecute the police commissioner. I was in shock. He had found no evidence that he could prove. Everyone was very tight-lipped.

Robert repeatedly scrutinized the man standing in front of him; he tried hard to glean some clues from Blake’s expression. He claims to have the family’s interest at heart, but it’s quite obvious that he’s using this opportunity to coerce Heather. There was no way on earth that he would agree to Blake’s suggestion of sacrificing Heather for the sake of the company. As he frowned, he gradually sat down while he maintained his gaze on Blake.

I wanted to hold her, but I couldn’t move my legs. Robert got up from his chair and sat down on my bed. He gently held my hand in his. The smile on his lips didn’t quite reach his eyes. Those damned eyes and the power they held over me. They were always this amazing blue, but now the blue was offset by the red surrounding them. He had been crying, I couldn’t even imagine what he looked like when he cried. He was Robert King, the scary CEO with no emotions. I had made him cry?

He got to know that there was an attack when his spy called him, and he thought of saving Reagan and thereby killing him. "I just got to know," Mr. Robertson answered as he shrugged his shoulders. "Huh?" Mr. Reagan raised his brows confusingly, he didn't believe him one bit. "Forget about it!" Mr. Robertson retorted rudely at him. Mr. Reagan was upset at the tone in which Robertson spoke to him, but he couldn't do anything about it since he (Robertson) was his lifesaver. However, unknown to him, Mr. Robertson was plotting in his head how to kill him. But he won't kill Reagan just yet until he lays his hand on the safe!

He bobs his chin once and I head for the door quickly before he looks at the notes I left in the storage files. “Whitney, there is one thing,” I silently curse and turn around to face him. “Sir?” I move forward with wobbly legs as he gestures for me with his hand. When I got to his desk my stomach was knotted so I blurted, “I know you hate notes, but the Volkov’s Storage yards were suspicious and they’re recent income was also suspicious and when I dug deeper I found…” “It’s not about the notes,” He raised his hand to silence me.