Donovan Novels & Stories

"You little shit, out playing silly games again." Donovan finally coughs out the paper and got his ass off the couch he was sleeping on, which haa dirty clothes, empty beer cans, pizza boxes, and a half bag of chips. He rubs his eyes to yank sleep off them and yawns. He shouldn't be more than fourty five, with a heavy red faded beard. He is standing tall, almost as tall as Max and hairy like a aasquatch. His frown deflates and forms into a stupid sick grin, when he notices me standing next to Max.

“Hi, I’m Harriet Stenet, your donor liaison.” Amaija Klein. This is Brin and Zara.” She nods, focusing on me. “So, Ms. Klein, I’d like to jump right in if that’s okay?” “I’m ready to jump,” I say. “Great. Do you have a preference for the donor’s race?” “Race doesn’t matter.” “Age?” “Age doesn’t matter either.” “Education?” “I’m pretty smart, so the kid’s got a good shot with half my DNA,” I say, not wanting to rule out anyone over a fancy degree.

Donatello didn’t say a word as he looked at the four of us. “You knew of this, didn’t you?” Ariana asked her son. Donatello didn’t respond, and nodding, Ariana looked at Katerina “you two are going to make the biggest mistake of your life. Domenico is not like the other elders that you fought, and you two are not Lycans who can fight him back the way he does…”

Donny chuckled. He has thick long brown hair that he ties back in a low ponytail, kind chocolate colored eyes, and thick lips. He was the security guard slash bouncer and would tackle and subdue the guys who would cause problems. He was also really funny and would make food for us sometimes. I don’t eat when I’m on the clock and the girls don’t either. I thought it was very thoughtful of him. It was hard to believe he wasn’t a werewolf because of his build. Despite being so big, he was a gentle giant and was the nicest person I’ve met since Gabe and I arrived.

My father died. He left me a contract. A marriage to the Donovans. The Chicago Outfit. He wanted the future Don to protect me. The whole family's power, wrapped around me for life. But on my wedding day to the eldest, Finn… he ran. Took my family housekeeper's daughter with him. His brother, Cillian Donovan, stepped up. He married me instead. Wedding night. I was in the music room. Alone. Playing the cello. A sad song for my father. Cillian kicked the door open. His eyes were bloodshot. Pure jealousy. A sneer on his face. “Does marrying me instead of Finn really hurt you this much?” For the next five years, he brought women home

The first man instructs Donovan and he nods in understanding. "That I, Donovan Alken; son of Alpha Sean and Luna Genevieve…" "That I, Donovan Alken; son of Alpha Sean and Luna Genevieve…" Donovan's voice is unshaky and thick with confidence and certainty. It is expected of him. He has been groomed for this day. He has prepared for this day all his life. "Promises to uphold the title of the Alpha of Redwood pack…" "Promises to uphold the title of the Alpha of Redwood pack…"

"Donovan, what were you thinking? You could have killed me!" Donovan hung his head. "You should blame the bastard, Daciana." he said as he finger brushed the blood on his cheek before sucking his thumb, no bit of remorse in his voice. "I don't want to hurt him. Don't want to make him look weak in front of that thing."

Hell, Amber herself had masturbated to his pictures many times before she ever set foot into his penthouse and got to experience the real fucking thing. “I’m Grayson Godwin. Thanks for you and your family helping my friend Leo. I greatly appreciate it. And if there is anything I can do for you in return, please let me know.” Donovan was easy on the eyes himself and had a nice collection of muscles peeking out his t-shirt. His blond curly hair skimmed his shoulders and his eyes were grey that pretty kind rarely achieved naturally, but often through contacts. He also had impressive teeth for someone born in a ghetto with limited access to dentists.

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 pe

“But without her, I won’t.” He stared at me. Long. Hard. Then smiled. But it wasn’t warm. It wasn’t kind. It was sharp. “You’ll regret that,” he said. Then he walked out. The door closed. The silence returned. But it wasn’t the same. Because Giovanni had seen something. And he wasn’t wrong. The balance had shifted. ** The numbers were good. Better than good. Meetings ran late, deals closed faster, and the men whispered that the Don had found his rhythm again. But I knew the truth.