Donovan Gordon Novels & Stories

Third POV The city of New York had never felt such pomp or excitement in a long time. And that was such a profound statement because exciting things happened in New York all the time. However, there was nothing as exciting as seeing America's finest billionaire bachelor getting hitched. Gavriel Donovan had made waves in the fashion industry and even bigger waves in the media. From the scandal involving his ex-wife to his best friend's death, his exposed relationship with said best friend's daughter, and the kidnap incident he suffered some two months ago.

The door swung open. Donovan stood there. Relief, so profound it was dizzying, washed over me. Donovan, Ronan’s head of household. A mountain of a man with a shaved head and a permanent, stern frown. He was dressed not in Lancaster black, but in dark, tactical gear streaked with dirt. In his hand was a combat knife, its tip dark. “Donovan,” I breathed.

The loud beeping of the heart monitor in the room was what made the enraged young man, standing at the foot of the bed, stare at his coma-induced stepbrother to believe that he was still alive. Donovan Castillo. Standing tall at 6ft 9, a billionaire tycoon at the young age of twenty-seven. He was able to achieve greater heights in business all around the world than men his age couldn't do at the age of twenty, when he took over the family business till now.

Maneuvering the car into a corner as my body moved sideways from the aggressive driving. "Where is Donovan?" I asked the strange guy. He was bald, wore an all black outfit and had a snake tattoo at the nape of his neck. "Him and I take Shift." His voice echoed, coming out with an Italian accent. Now my intuition was high. "Hello? Vanessa, are you there?" Daniel asked me. I completely forgot about him. I unmuted the call. "Yeah I am, just hold on a sec." I responded by trying to call Donovan on the side. His phone wasn't going through. I decided to call Edward. It kept taking me to voicemail.

"Don Luccasio, hi. I didn't tell anyone about the scandal. I know that would be a death wish, so I only sent the picture to you and no one else. Frank refuses to leave me alone, so I…" The cogs in my brain turned furiously now that I was facing the actual Don, scrambling to churn out ways for me to tell him I didn't want trouble and that I wished to be spared. But George surprised me when he cut me off courteously, "Calm down, child. I swear to God I won't hurt you. I heard about what went down between you and Frank. "Perhaps you and I are on the same side. You know Frank isn't my biological son, and as things were, I've left my business in Armtesia alone for too long. I reached out because

Donovan teased as I smiled. The stares returned. “Who is that talking to Donovan? She seems important,” someone said. “Yeah. Mr Smith doesn’t associate with just anyone in public. This is a first. Now I’m curious about who she is,” another replied. Donovan Smith was the former senior director of a huge fashion house here in Greenville. Although now retired, his opinions were highly valued and he was still seen as an icon. During his prime, he had won the Avery Contour Award three consecutive times.

Although, Eddie can be crushed like a soup can in Donovan's hands. Donovan is more prominent than his brothers on the broad side. He may look menacing, like a large bear, but the way I see it, he's not scary at all. He's an oversized teddy bear. "He came home late because of his shift at work," He sniffs his plate and moans. "Nothing but a plate of bacon, eggs, sausage, and don't forget waffles to fill up my belly. Oh, speak of the devil, wearing nothing but his Batman briefs. Have respect, man; we have a child and ladies' presents."

How could Donovan be so mean? She heard sure footsteps and rushed to her feet, her heart pounding as the door was opened to reveal Donovan. She observed Donovan's curly hair, now longer and more pronounced, triggering memories of his past cruelty when he bullied her as a child. But this time, he stood before her as an adult, his hair lending him an air of rugged allure rather than innocence. It no longer softened his features; instead, it accentuated his confident demeanor, transforming him into a figure of unsettling allure, like a wealthy male model untouched by the burdens of the world.

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 paused, “The deed has already been done.” “Hey Kenny,” Donovan said, “Do you think I’m going to make heaven?” he joke. “Your chances are very slim Dony boy.” “Are you up for a sparing partner?” “You want to add to your loosing streak?” “I see you like to toot your own horn Kenny” “I’ll have the car ready in five, bring your attitude.” Donovan laughed following directly behind him. *** KEKURA UNDERGROUND RING Donovan loved his hobbies, especially kick boxing. When he was feeling overwhelmed by work, he would stop by his favorite understand ring. It was owned by his friend, Chad.