Extreme Ownership Chapters Novels & Stories

"It’s a beautiful house. I’m sure you’ll enjoy owning it." William stepped closer, invading my personal space until I was backed against the cold glass. He was a head taller than me, his shadow swallowing mine. "I don't just own the house, Elias," he said, his voice dropping to a vibration I felt in my chest. He reached out, his hand hovering near my face before his fingers grazed the lapel of my suit, straightening it with agonizing slowness. "I own the legacy. And whether you like it or not, you are the most volatile part of that inheritance."

she teased “Oh you wouldn’t dare” she said “But you say you’re not going back, I suppose” “Don’t try to manipulate me Isla, I stand my decision” she said now giving her a boned faced “Alright! mama” she gave up She opened the grabbed water from it, drinking it like a farmer dried up from the sun after a long day at the farm. - - - - At his office he held another shareholders meeting. This time it was intense, his inactivity and blatant response to the case at hand was simply not acceptable. As usual Cynthia Rourke, the biggest investor, the money woman was furious.

Vegas Clairemont hadn’t always been the hot-blooded bastard everyone knew him to be. He’d grown into the role because being a Clairemont demanded it. Power, wealth, connections… he could summon them all with a single word or a casual snap of his fingers. But what he craved most was control. Real control. The kind that didn’t slip away or fade when the lights went down. Control was permanent. It gave him access to anything he desired, and he had learned early that the only way to truly own a room or a person was to be assertive, dominant, and always ten steps ahead.

prove that for Dante and Ivy, the only thing more intoxicating than absolute power is absolute possession? (Watch out for Chapter 154) 💬 Add to library | Vote | Comment | Gifts

he instructed simply. I glanced at him before reaching for the files, flipping the first one open. My brows furrowed as I scanned the documents inside. Deeds. Contracts. Bank records. My heart stilled. “What… is this?” I asked slowly, looking up at him. Charles smirked, sipping his whiskey before replying. “These,” he said, tapping a finger against the papers, “are the real ownership documents of your father’s empire. The properties, businesses, offshore accounts—everything that Bianca and Leonardo have been desperately trying to get their hands on.”

And then— Stakes. The word screamed at me from the cover of a thick folder buried at the bottom. My palms grew damp as I drew it out, my pulse loud in my ears. I set it on the desk and opened it. At first, it was nothing but columns—names, numbers, percentages. Neat rows of data, the language of power. But as I scanned further, the words seared into me like fire. Ownership: 70% I blinked. My chest tightened.

He really did make me his property, he already owned me. Now, the whole packs will be more miserable if they'll knew that I have mate with a human.

If he wanted to show her portals, let him. “You trust me?” she asked, eyes fixed on his. He leaned forward, oblivious. “Yes, I can tell when a person is mine.” There it was, the rhythm she’d been waiting for. He felt possession as a reward. Pride in ownership softened his cruelty. If he believed she was "his," he would yield things in service of that possession: documents, numbers, schedules. He'd show her the inner workings as if to brag. She would gather them, tuck them away, and feed them back to Jaxon when she could.

She was being so fiesty and how on earth was this turning me on? “Do you know how dangerous that man is?” “I do not care! And you should not tell me how to live my life! I own it!” “No! I own your life! I own every part of your body. From your head to your toe, I own it! So if I ever catch a man snooping around my property, I will have these balls chopped off and I will make sure I serve them to him raw! I will have their heart ripped out and I will make sure that he fucking begs for death! I own you!” I gritted out flossing all control.

I slurred, shouting at him, "You're nobody to me!" That stopped him dead in his tracks. His stare turned primal. Something ancient woke up in those silver eyes. He stepped closer, every movement heavy with deadly dominance. Then, he reached out, gripping my chin to force my eyes up to his. "Little one." His voice was a deep, ancient rumble, every word dripping with absolute possession. "If I can't tell you what to do after waiting centuries for you... then who the hell can?" Right then, the alcohol took the wheel. I went completely limp against his strong arms as my mind went black.