D Gray Man Allen Novels & Stories

Danny comforted Aliana in his phone, saying that it was okay about their grandfather, but his gaze occasionally shifted toward Allen. A glimmer of crystal light flashed in his eyes as he clenched his teeth. The old man was always causing trouble.

I froze. A man stood by the edge of the trees, lighting a cigarette with steady hands. Smoke curled around him like a crown of shadows. He looked like sin in a suit, dark, dangerous, and maddeningly composed. His eyes didn’t flinch, didn’t waver. He didn’t even seem to care that I was on the verge of collapsing, yelling, or trying to escape. He was watching me like I was a mildly interesting movie he didn’t pay to see. He was watching like he was actually enjoying it!

Regardless, nobody knew who this mysterious man was, and as a result, nobody had the courage to approach him. Meanwhile, Gray disregarded the attention he received. He has only one reason for showing himself to the public, and that's to find Mr. Emmanuel Red. "It's a good thing that I couldn't see Martin around. But where is Mr. Red?" Gray murmured while looking around. "Hello," two beautiful and hot women approached Gray. Gray flashed a charming smile as he raised his glass. "Evening, ladies," he greeted, his voice dripping with suave. He planted a gentle kiss on the back of their hands, causing them to giggle or nibble on their lower lips.

“Oh, you’re joking, right?” Damian said, “We did mention he owns a company, right?” I frowned and said, “You three so owe me.” We all walked out the front door and Drake said, “Bye sweet stuff. Love you.” He shut the door before we could say anything back. Someone stepped out of the limo, and they were like 6'5. When we got over there, I realized it was Grey. He looked way better in person, and he towered over my 5'6 body.

Dolly waved away the bartender who brought her over a slider full of potent-looking shots, all varying shades of dark beige to mahogany before continuing. "And ever since then, Atlas Grayson is certified single. He'll fuck a woman, and he'll fuck her good, but he doesn't really put his heart in it from what I understand. Which isn't a problem because most of them only want him to put his dick in it, and that's enough. Don't get me wrong, he's broken a few girls' hearts when they thought they could seduce him into love, but he's never played anyone. That's what I hear anyway."

Standing beside them were two men, inconspicuous and silent, their faces unreadable as they stood off to the side. At the center of the conference room sat a tall and imposing man—Damon Greyson, a core figure in the Dragon Gang. Standing at around 188 cm, his muscular frame was clad in a dark suit, which gave him an air of authority and solemnity. His sharp features and piercing eyes often sent a chill down one’s spine, making it clear that he was not a man to be trifled with. The moment Damon entered the room, the atmosphere thickened with an undeniable sense of tension and gravitas.