Dr. Richard Pearl Novels & Stories

Richards, shifting uncomfortably on his heels. “Are you not going to tell me what this is about?” I ask. Ophelia looks like she’s bursting at the seams, she’s itching to say something. “Ophelia,” I say. “Tell me!” She just about opens her mouth and Jacob steps into the room. He looks around and asks, “Are we staging some kind of intervention?” Dr. Richards clears his throat. I noticed he does it whenever he has to say something important, “I’ve been in consultation with the Mellon Foundation and their data is incredible.”

Her Dad squinted in confusion, “Eleanor? If I am correct, the human girl that left the city to oversees?” “Yes.” “Okay so what is happening with her? you told me she came back.” “Yes, I told you.” “So?” “Dad, can you believe it? That sick head Alpha Arthur says he is mated to her. I mean Eleanor is a frigging human! I can’t risk Eleanor learning the truth about me and thinking I lied to her the whole time!” Her dad was quiet, and stared blankly. “Dad? Did you hear anything I said at all!” Elisa yelled.

He says. “Or maybe human.” I add. From what Oliver said about his research, I think there’s a connection there. “What’s your theory?” Alpha Elias ask. I look at him. Trusting my guts to not trust him with my theory, I lie. “I have nothing yet. But I have a feeling there’s a third supernatural being that’s involved in all of this.” Alpha Elias sighs, putting his hands in his long length jacket. “I’ll keep in touch.” He insists, and zooms off in his car.

When Don saw Phelan, his eyes burned with hate. He bellowed—a sound that was somewhere between a yell, a moo, and a really loud belch. “Hey, Phelan,” She then shouted back. “Didn't I kill you already?” He pounded his fist into the dress she wore, and it crumpled like aluminum foil. A few dracaenae threw flaming javelins at her. She knocked them aside. A hellhound lunged, and she sidestepped. She could have stabbed it, but She hesitated. “This is not Mrs. O'Leary”, Don said to himself. This is an untamed wolf. It will kill me and all my friends.

“That is what people say when they have invited witnesses but do not wish to be accused of arranging a stage.” Margaret laughed lightly. “Richard, must you start before dinner?” “I prefer to begin before the soup. It saves time.” Richard came fully into view, old eyes bright beneath heavy brows. His gaze went first to Daniel, then to Leah, then to the pearls. There it paused. Only for a moment. Then he looked at Margaret’s throat and back at Leah’s. “How coordinated,” he said. Leah felt the pearls against her skin. Margaret’s smile did not move. “A mother is allowed to be sentimental after her daughter’s wedding.”

Attractive in a generic way. “Something like that.” “Want to talk about it?” “Definitely not.” He smiles. “Fair enough. I’m Richard. I teach business law at Harvard.” “Elena. I study physics at MIT.” “Impressive. Quantum or particle?” “Quantum field applications.” We talk. It’s easy. Uncomplicated. He doesn’t know my history, doesn’t care about Mateo or Spain or scandal. After an hour, he leans closer. “This might be forward, but would you like to get out of here? My apartment is walking distance.”

Surely I was seeing things. Was his cocky attitude haunting me now? I shook my head hard but it didn't erase the fact that Art Wilson was one of my professors? How on earth was he professor? He was only 28. His eyes lingered on me for a second longer before he continued his lecture. His words mumbled into gibberish as all I could scream in my head was no...no...no. I collected my things, and sprinted out of that class, not caring about the murmurs it stirred. I was probably deaf until I drove out of the campus.

Richard clapped his hands together before clearing his throat in seriousness. "What did you see in my daughter?" Richard asked, wanting to know what draws him to his jewel. His pearl wasn't like the normal queen bee. She was shy, meek, gentle but a little bit crazy when she's comfortable. She was patient and rarely got mad but when she's, it was always hard to calm her down. So much anger pent in, he sighed, rubbing his temple.

Pearl’s P.O.V. “What a surprise, Pearl?” I looked at my uncle coldly when he greeted me excitedly after entering his office. “Yeah, it’s a surprise…… Griffin.” I replied, tilting my head a little. Griffin Harriett, my uncle and the CEO, and the lead researcher of the BrightLight Medical Research Institute, the person who was the real manipulator behind the scenes, smiled so brightly as if he had seen a treasure, not his niece.

"Let me guess... It must be Mr. Alexander again? Am I right?" Ivory turned to her with a quiet laugh, already knowing she wouldn’t hear the end of it. Pearl didn’t wait for confirmation. She leaned over the workbench, sneakily glancing at the phone still in Ivory’s hand. "Aww... he is such a sweet husband, where can I find one of these limited-edition emotionally available quadrillionaire, huh?” Ivory rolled her eyes. "When will you stop spouting nonsense?" Pearl giggled and opened the pastry box. "This might be nonsense to you, but I'm not wrong."