Dorian Gray Henry Wotton Novels & Stories

My breath hitched as he stepped out. I widened my eyes abruptly as I recognized him. Fuck…This man—my buyer—was Dorian!!! My brother Gray’s most trusted soldier, Dorian! He had that mask for the Underground Club’s customers in one hand. His dark hair was slicked back, and his piercing eyes bore into me with a mix of anger and disappointment. “Dorian?” My voice trembled. “What the hell…What are you doing here?! Did you buy me off?!” Dorian's expression hardened, “Yes.”

Then she saw a phrase written in pitch-black ink on the front page of Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray. “May I blatantly copy Lord Henry’s words? Because we both know that…“You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.” – Joe.” Celine remembered Lord Henry as a character in the book. But what sin did he mean? But her curiosity came to an abrupt pause. “Oh, since when did you wake up and come to sit here? You’ve made it just in time for breakfast." He greeted. And then glowing golden-yellow omelets, ham, and salad were placed in front of her. Celine hurriedly closed the book and smiled.

His ginger-colored hair framed his face perfectly which gave him an aura of authority and a presence that naturally demanded attention. Dorian, on the other hand, was dressed in black shorts and a black T-shirt. His dark hair was neatly tied into a ponytail. Just like the last time Aurora had seen him, she could still tell from a single glance into his brown eyes that he wasn't someone to be underestimated despite the friendly warmth he often displayed.

Amelia said to Henry, who nodded in reply, and with that, she turned and walked away, and at the same time, one of the waitresses brought a tray with some glasses of wine towards Henry, and with that, he collected one from her. As Henry was standing in a corner while sipping his drink, someone cleared his voice from behind, and with that, Henry slowly turned around only to see Adrian standing behind him with a glass of drink. "And who do we have here, the one and only Mr Darlington?" Henry said to Adrian while grinning from ear to ear. "How have you been, my dear friend?" Henry asked Adrian with a sarcastic smile. "I would rather have only enemies in this world than have someone like you as

The solarium was a glass-domed cage on the top floor of the townhouse, designed to capture the rare London sun, but today it only served to magnify the grey, oppressive morning. Dante stood by a pedestal holding a marble bust of some long-dead Blackwood patriarch, his hand resting on the cold stone. The air was thick with the scent of forced lilies and expensive coffee. ​Evelyn was already seated, her tablet propped against a silver cream pitcher. Beside her sat the Governance Officer, a man named Halloway who looked like he hadn't slept in forty-eight hours.

Dorian froze mid-motion, wiping grease from his hands. “Mira?” he repeated softly. “She died three Winter Solstices ago.” “You’re lying.” Rowan’s face twisted, disbelief flickering into anger. “I can smell her scent in that room.” “I’m not lying.” Dorian pointed toward the alley beyond the tavern. “three Winter Solstices ago, the family from that malpractice case cornered her there—under the blood moon. They used silver-forged blades, cut deep until her wolf couldn’t heal.

Her focus was absolute. She reached the end of the row, where a smaller portrait hung slightly apart from the others. The man depicted was younger than most of her ancestors, his features sharp and intelligent. Beneath his image, a plaque read: Jonathan Haverstone, Keeper of the Second Key. Vivienne’s pulse quickened. “Second key?” she whispered, stepping closer. The frame’s edges were unusually ornate, the carvings intricate and deliberate. She pressed her fingers against the lower edge, feeling for a latch like the one she had found on her uncle’s portrait.

"Come over here, Wilbur. Is this true? Wilbur barked out a laugh, walking over to Benjamin. This shocked Dorian and his family to the core. Dorian opened his mouth shakily. "M-Mister Grayson, d-do you know him?" "Yes, he's a buddy of mine," Benjamin said. "But if he really did all that, I'll be the first to give him hell before you do."

A girl dressed sultry wearing just a pantie and loose wrap top let out an exasperated exhale. “Come on man, This is like the sixth time. Am I doing it wrong?" She queried in a deep American tone, her nose flared up. “Oh yes, You are," Mr. Henry replied and lit up his cigarettes. He stepped aside and whispered a word to one of the men who was bare naked and had only a towel tied loosely around his waist. “Kensington would have been a better character for this," He mumbled afterwards and sat on the chair, puffing air through his nostrils and mouth.

He later confirmed it was truly him. But, I couldn’t understand why Alonso was playing hide-and-seek with me. Or maybe all these encounters were just coincidences. “I’ll quickly take this outside,” Henry said, already standing and heading toward the exit. I picked up a glass of wine and took a slow sip, scanning the hall and forcing myself not to dwell on my thoughts. “You’re back, Sabrina,” Henry’s grandmother said, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked up and saw Mrs. Wilton approaching the table. Her face looked slightly swollen. Her eyes were puffy and red. She had been in the bathroom for quite some time.