Dorian Havilliard Novels & Stories

Johnny said when he saw that all the girls were already with the men who had just arrived. I kept looking down, glancing from time to time at the faces of the armed guys, watching as they lit cigarettes and poured liquor from their bottles. “Do you want a drink?” Dorian told me. I turned to see him, meeting his eyes again, but this time closer. It is assumed that he was waiting for me to see him change like the previous time, but I only looked at a pair of black eyes, slightly slanted; His Asian ancestry was obvious, which made me even more nervous.

Harley screamed as Demitri pulled the trigger two more times to triple the dosage of vervain; making it impossible for Mason to break through. Zander pulled a stake from his belt, aiming to use the distraction to his advantage. He thrust the weapon forward, only for Demitri to catch it in his hand. The elder vampire pulled on it, causing Zander to jerk forward, and then headbutted him, causing the latter to stagger backwards. Harley's hands shook as she finally pulled the gun from her jacket and aimed it. They shook harder, making it impossible to hold a steady aim, and she lowered it again with a sigh. "Even your own daughter is hesitant to save your life, you really are New York's most hat

I fix myself. We park and exited the car. We enter the elevator and go to the 12th floor of the building. "Mr. Brooklyn!" An old man shouted. Hilary's dad and the old man bro hug each other and shake hands. "Here's my daughter Hilary." I bowed and shake hands. "And here's my son, Richard." A five-foot and nine inches tall guy wearing a mask extends his hand. I shake hands with him. "So let's talk about the wedding?"

Callum winces from the impact, his frail spine can barely withstand the hit. “How did you know about this? Who else knows about this?” “I have my sources and no one knows about this.” The look in Dorian's eyes turn sinister as he sneers down at the frail elder before him. “Good. Which means I can kill you now and you get buried with my secret.” Callum's eyes widen, his heart pounding against his ribcage. Still he hold Dorian's gaze, keeping his fear from his face. “You won't.” Dorian raises his eyebrows, Callum's words and the boldness behind them catch him off guard.

Not just for my freedom, but for my own survival. But before I could put my plan into action, the next day came and Dorian returned. He opened the door and stood in the doorway. Something was profoundly wrong. In one hand, he held my book of witchcraft. In the other, the voodoo doll I had used to enchant him… And at his waist, a gun I had never seen before. “I read your book,” he said, his voice strangely calm, without the usual anger. “Every page. Every spell, every ritual.”

“What the actual fuckkkkkk!” Dorian screamed, clearing the whole desk with a swipe of his hand in anger. He stormed through his penthouse. Two of his men were found dead by the road in Los Angeles, and the third one was missing. The lady they claimed to have found was gone. Who the actual fuck is Lyra? Had she turned from a sweet girl into a killer? His blood was boiling. She had escaped him multiple times. Brown kept his distance but brought his phone forward.

they said calmly. “Would you like to try calling first? Or I can place a call for you?” Dorian glanced at the house. It did indeed look abandoned, as if she had been gone for a long time. She was not avoiding him. His heart sank again. He hesitated for a long moment but finally called Alpha Harold Hale himself. Vivienne’s father must have heard the rumors. Dorian needed to know how to explain. His hand holding the phone was sweaty, a feeling he had never experienced before.

The second I stepped in, the world outside vanished. Dorian ordered drinks immediately, tossing his card to the bartender like he owned the place. “To Hailey,” he toasted, “soon to be Mrs. Blackwood, the woman too hot for hell.” I laughed, clinking my glass against his. “Cheers to bad decisions.” We danced, we laughed. For the first time in weeks, I felt something close to freedom. Lila swayed beside me, hair sticking to her forehead, her laughter bright and wild. I felt a prickling on my skin. Like someone was watching me.

“A woman like Serena? She’s nothing. How could I possibly lose to her?” By the time they reached the Reinaldi villa, the sky had dimmed to a smoky gold. The mansion stood on a cliff overlooking the city, the evening breeze carrying the faint scent of salt and pine. Chiara collapsed onto the velvet couch in the sitting room, one arm draped dramatically over her forehead. Dorian stood at her side, silent and watchful. He had been with her since childhood—the Reinaldi family’s most loyal weapon, trained to kill and protect in equal measure. Though barely twenty-one, his skills were unmatched, his loyalty absolute. His sun-kissed face and boyish braid belied the steel underneath.

Dorian almost certainly would not have agreed regardless, given what he already knew of me by that point, but the thought of having actually pursued it made me feel briefly unwell. From what I had seen of him directly, he was not a kind person. Caspian had warned me about that, had told me he was not someone who did commitment. What I had witnessed at the gala confirmed both assessments. He had disappeared from the hallway at the precise moment Orlov's people were extracting Dante's name from the actress, which meant his exit was calculated rather than coincidental.