Donovan Gordon Novels & Stories

Jack hadn't given her much information yet, so she decided to do a little research. Evans Chris Donovanera is a former Formula 1 driver in his early twenties. He had abandoned the tracks to dedicate himself to his father, George Banks, in the technological field. In both areas he was the best, always standing out for his intelligence and visionary eye. In less than five years running DonovanEnterprise, his family's private company, he was among the pillars responsible for the New York economy. His photos at the many events he had attended showed a man closed to the world. Her escorts, always famous models or actresses, were a perfect contrast of beauty and exposure. Lora hadn't seen many pic

He didn’t mind her prissy attitude and shrugged it off easily, laughing a little when Jenny’s eyes widened at the tasty breakfast. “It was difficult to see the man who called the shots,” Gordon admitted, laughing at his little pun. “However, after injecting some interesting ideas in an elevator ambush, we got the appointment.” If there was one quirk about Gordon that Dawn found irritating, it was his love for puns at inappropriate moments. His sense of humour was too broken that Jenny gave up trying to teach him basic manners. Nevertheless, they respected each other’s skills in their respective domain and never overstepped professional boundaries.

The doors opened before I could respond. The room was set up like an old gentleman's club, all dark wood and leather chairs. Vittorio Santoro sat at the head of the table like he owned it. Maybe he thought he did. Gray streaked his dark hair but he still looked solid and dangerous. His oldest son Nico stood behind him with arms crossed, the kind of man who enjoyed violence for its own sake.

Donovan's jaw is tight and his eyes are the specific grey of someone running through every counterargument and finding each one insufficient. He yields. Not with words. He just exhales, once, and the set of his shoulders changes. That small shift costs him something and he gives it anyway because he trusts my judgment over his instinct. It means more than any declaration he's ever made. "Two days," he says. "Two days," I confirm. --- We work through both of them methodically.

Mr Donovan let out a short laugh, sharp and humorless. “Verbally?” he echoed. “You were my personal assistant, not the owner of this company. You were entrusted to keep things steady, not drain them dry.” He rose from his chair and picked up one of the files, flipping through it with quick angry movements. “Millions unaccounted for,” Mr Donovan continued. “Workflow disrupted. Departments operating without authorization. Do you think I traveled overseas to return to this mess?” Victor swallowed. He lowered his head slightly, adopting a posture of humility he had mastered over the years.

The waitresses quickly took Dohana to her table and in just a few minutes, Donovan arrived and joined her. Donovan had just come from a meeting at work, so he was well dressed with a black business suit, looking handsome and manly. "Dohana," Donovan said with a warm smile, his heart skipping as he stared at her gorgeous yellow long bodycon dress, looking all elegant and ready to mingle. "Donovan," Dohana said as she nodded in approval of his stylish look. "You look handsome." Donovan blushed and took the opportunity to sit down with a straight face. "Dohana, please don't flirt. Like I said, I like you but you're my friends girlfriend… I mean wife-to-"

Another full day had already passed since Andrew had left Chetvine. "Alright, time's up." Inside the Lloyd family base, Donovan slowly opened his eyes as he rose from his chair. He was already 80, and although his martial skills had long stopped advancing, the sharp light in his gaze was still intimidating.

It's only once the adrenaline wears off and Serena is calmer that I notice how bad Donovan is. He has lost a significant amount of weight. His clothes are far too loose, and his face is gaunt under the bruising. His eye is practically swollen shut, and an X-ray showed that both ulnas in his arms have been repeatedly broken. Obvious signs of defensive injuries, trying to protect himself from a beating. "Goddess have mercy". I turn and see Connor in the doorway. Liam came in behind him and just froze. I speak just above a whisper. "Connor. What's his colour?".

“I’m sorry for what happened. I’m sorry for putting your life in danger. I never meant for any of this to touch you.” My stomach twisted. “Oh my god, you do know her.” He nodded once, it was slow and miserable. “Who is she?” “Her name is Donna Sofia.” He spoke the name like it tasted bitter. “She’s married to one of the old bosses, Don Moretti. Back when Don Antonio adopted me, Don Moretti and Antonio were partners, they were thick as thieves.” He paused, rubbed his thumb across his knuckles like the motion could erase what came next.