Cornelius Crane Novels & Stories

“I saw his face when my wife and I got up to go dance on the floor. Oh, my goodness he looked like Crane with long hair and a mustache.” “That’s because that was Crane. In his journal, he spoke of the night he saw the Waynes. Crane said he waited for you and your wife to get up. That’s when he slipped the drug in her drink. I'm guessing that was the night she attacked you, right?” “Yeah, it was. Are you telling me my wife isn’t crazy.” “At least she wasn't when she first was admitted but there is no telling how much damage Crane has done. He never gave her medicine to help her. He gave her mercury to make her more unstable.”

she said and looked at me. Madeline gave me the same confused look I wore on my face. “Crane Industry helped me get the building together after an incident happened with Clinton's Empire which almost destroyed the building,” she said some more and everyone's attention was on me. “Clinton Empire abandoned my mansion but Crane Industry came to my rescue,” she said and smiled wryly. She was handed a glass of champagne, “to Crane Industry for their amazing work,” “To Crane Industry,” the crowd cheered and I could hear Katherine's voice behind me.

The screen showed a countdown timer, 00:15:27, ticking down slowly. Crane’s voice echoed behind him. “Fifteen minutes until your world burns.” River spun back, fury flashing in his eyes. “Why him, Crane? He didn’t ruin you. You ruined yourself.” Crane’s expression cracked for the first time, his voice rising. “He humiliated me! He made me look weak in front of the board, in front of everyone! He took everything I had and left me with nothing!” River stared at him, breathing hard. “You did that to yourself. You tried to destroy people to stay on top. And now you’re just a man standing in the dark, clinging to what’s already gone.”

“I’ll stall them. It’s what I’m good at.” “No,” Anaïs said. “They’ll kill you.” Crane gave a half-smile. “Only if I stop talking.” He stood and crossed to a wooden crate near the shelves. When he opened it, the scent of metal and oil filled the room. Inside was a compact satchel, already packed. “You’ll need supplies,” he said, handing it to Maris. “I pulled what I could. Food, flashlights, gauze, spare rounds. Keep moving. Head toward Haver. There’s a contact there. Same network. She’s quiet, but she owes me.”

“No surprise there, seein’ everyone around these parts can make such a claim, but the real eye- opener is when we found out her maiden name in the Ashby-on-Sea marriage records.” Beatrice sat fascinated. “And what was her maiden name?” Maud leaned forward so far it appeared as though she was about to stand up. “It was Crane,” she whispered. “Meanin’ that our Melville Craig is a blood relative of the captain that put Elizabeth Caldecott to death.”

No matter what, I was still going to get Hope back and Crane was still going to die. “You are the lowest of the low.” Crane’s eyes averted from me, looking past me and at the group of fighters that stood ready and waiting. “Do you know what your fearless leader is?” He shouts to them. “A murderer! He murdered his whole pack. Not just his pack but ranked officers that were visiting. Locked them all in a room and burned them to the ground!” I could hear the mutters behind me and felt the tension in the air rise as they all listened to his words. I couldn’t deny them because it was true.

The table went quiet. "Crane told her," Sloane said slowly. "That's what he's saying. He's not bragging that he found her. He's bragging that he sent her a letter." "Nineteen years he couldn't catch her." Ilsa's voice came from the armchair by the stove, where they'd put her with three blankets and a hot water bottle and an argument she'd lost. "Because there was nothing to catch. He said it to her through the door, love. He made her into nothing on purpose, and it worked too well, and it cost him two decades."

Crane's hands were still folded, his fingers white at the knuckles. "You think you're the first person to come in here with accusations? You think you're the first person who thought they could scare me?" He smiled. It was the smile of a man who had spent his life behind walls, who had forgotten what it felt like to be afraid. "I've been doing this job for twelve years. I've seen men like you come and go. And I'm still here." Alex opened the folder. The first page was a photograph. Crane, younger, standing beside a man Alex didn't recognize. The second page was a ledger entry, a name, a date, an amount. The third page was a statement, signed, witnessed, notarized.

He knows I don’t skimp on the good liquor. The door opens and I stand up. Crane appears through the door with Matt as he closes the door behind him. Crane seems to be frozen in time. He looks old and wrinkled and well past his prime but is still as active as a young wolf. His eyebrows stand up like they were electrocuted and his nose is slightly crooked. I’m sure in his prime he was better looking. Now, he looks like life has fucked him every day and he can’t remember the safe word.

The certain tear daringly fell on his hand and the spot began to itch and burn which forced Cyrus to withdraw his hand imminently. Danielle assumed that it was against the king's ego that she chose her death all by herself. Thus, he saved her life to behead her later which also explained the whole count Hawthorne matter too. Undoubtedly Cyrus was rumoured to be a ruthless and egotistical man, he had killed numerous people without a flinch.