Cornelius Crane Novels & Stories

I need confirmation. "Yes. When he tried to back out, they were supposed to scare him, make him understand the consequences of betrayal." Crane rubs his face. "I didn't order them to nearly kill him. That was them taking initiative." "Jesus Christ." I sink into one of the chairs across from his desk. "Do you understand what you've done? Marcus could have died. Vanessa could have been hurt. All because you're consumed by grief and rage." "I know. I've known for months that I'd crossed a line but I couldn't stop. Stopping felt like giving up on Emily." Crane looks at the photo on his desk. "She was all I had after her mother died. My whole world."

“This place is actually a wildlife sanctuary. I have a camping resort business in the north from here.” And here I thought that this man is a Wildman and their pack is just some secluded area. I feel so ashamed now, thinking that he was just some redneck or hillbilly, but turns out he was also a businessman. “Did you thought we are just some uncultured rednecks, miss Hunt?” That was Crane who’s talking, a smirk also plastered on his face. “I am.” I gave him a challenged and smile back, and my head turn to Arrowroot, “I was ignorant at first, and I hope you accepted my apology.”

With this Maxwell and Cornelius will be assigned a new bloodline, which I’m sure will be fully stocked with donors. February 27th, 1776 Transcriber: Alexander Rein Cornelius Herrington, Maxwell’s maker has gone missing and is presumed dead after finding a pile of ash in the woods. Little evidence points to the assailant. Cornelius wasn’t a very liked man, but Maxwell has the most motive in killing him. However, he is never tried for the death, but suspicious eyes remain on him. I witnessed the event occur and I will die with the facts of the brutal murder. My advice, don’t underestimate Mr. Barnett.

My ears heated up, feeling like a thief caught in the act. "Okay!" I muttered under my breath. "Mr. Argos, you're finally here. I thought you'd ditch us tonight as well.” A man appeared with a smile on his face that apparently didn't reach his eyes. He's Eliot Crane, one of the most notorious prosecution attorneys in the country. “It appears you have a lovely companion with you today.” His eyes fell on me, watching me with a scrutinizing gaze. “Miss Ricardo, this is Eliot Crane; he's a prosecution attorney,” Abraham introduced me to him.

I kicked him square in the stomach, twisted his arm behind his back, and lashed him to the banister with his own belt. "Pig," I said. The sound of carriage wheels on gravel pulled me back. I stepped outside and opened the gate. Charles Crane had arrived—bearing engagement gifts, a full marriage contract, and absolutely no shame—to formally ask for my hand.

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.

The whole garage was as quiet as a grave. The fifth day, I went to find Crane. "Has he come by?" I asked. Crane glanced at me and pushed the ointment across without answering my question. "You look terrible," he said. "Has he come by?" Crane was quiet a moment. "He came. Three days ago. Asked if there was any way to get a pureblood noble's heart's blood. I told him that's not something money can buy, that the family crest last time was already a stroke of incredible luck. He listened, then left."

“Oh, so Darius’ punishment— what does it have to do with him hiding himself away for three days, refusing to talk to anyone, and having his men keep lying that he's somewhere else?” “Can you just chill out? You can see I'm trying to talk.” “Okay, okay… go on.” “For killing Crane, his name was submitted and he was summoned by the Land Of The Dead.” “Oh my God!” I literally ran to her, going on my knees, just to see if she was saying the truth or not. “The what?” I whispered, my eyes going wide, and my heart pounding hard in my chest.