Francis The Secret History Novels & Stories

“And he’s reckless. Which makes him dangerous.” I stared at Francis. “What exactly did you hear?” I asked. “Whispers,” he replied quickly. “That he’s gathering people. That he’s preparing something to embarrass you… maybe expose something. I don’t know. But his name kept coming up in the same breath as your campaign.” My fingers tightened subtly. “Learn more,” I ordered. “Every detail.” Francis nodded immediately. “I will,” he promised. “I’ll find out everything soon.” I held his gaze, making sure he understood I wasn’t asking.

she said at once, her mouth panting heavily in his ears. "This is not Violet, and please refrain from addressing me by that bitch's name," Francis said coldly. He licked his lower lip and leaned his head on the car headrest, his head facing the road. From his left, he saw someone walking in his direction. It was a girl of probably 28 years of age, all places curved into a lovely shape of a woman, and if it were on other days, he would have lusted over her. He saw her turn to her left and he took his eyes off her.

Francis asks, worried about the punch Charles gave her on her shoulder. ​"No sir. I'm alright." The maid lies. She still feels the stinging pain on her shoulder but what can she do? She needs the money gotten from this part time job she got. ​"Regarding what happened today, you signed a document to keep the things that happens in this house confidential." Francis discloses. ​"Yes sir." ​"So I'm asking that no one knows about what happened between you and Catherine's son. This isn't an order but a request."

Putting his palm in his head, Francis let out a deep sigh. “Why? Rocco, why?...” Asking himself, Francis can’t find the right answer in his question. Either way, the only thing to know the truth is ask him directly. Holding the keys he got from his desk, he clench it in his palm. *** “That’s it?” Hera asked as she let go of the shirt of the man she just make unconscious. Looking at the other person who still have his consciousness, she smiled. “Nice, nice.”

Emett still looked out at the water. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me,” Terry spoke out. The boys looked. “You’d think she would have,” Justin continued, “aren’t you guys supposed to be the best of friends?” Terry eyed Justin, catching the rudeness of his voice. “We are,” Terry answered, “but a girl like Kahlan has many secrets, and unfortunately, we just happen to be one of them.” All of the boys thought back to Ryan, then wondered why the brothers would think of them as a secret.

However, the peace shattered as Cade, who had been quiet up until then, set down his fork and asked, “What really happened with the witches of Montrose?” The question seemed to suck the air out of the room. Francis’ shoulders stiffened, and Emma, who had been smiling faintly at her mate, lowered her utensils. Their silence was telling, and even before Francis spoke, I knew the truth wasn’t going to be easy to hear. “It was difficult,” Francis said at last.

Ready to engage. This is the real Donica, your true personality comes out when you're facing me, b*tch. “Why? Is it wrong to admire Sir Travis? I didn't know that someone like you was secretly observing me.” She said in a haughty tone. Wow, Sir Travis? Why is it like that? Mistresses and flirtatious people are bolder than the originals? Their audacity is really something else, it's like they can use their thick skin as shoe soles.

"She mentioned blue was her color. First night, when she was showing me the photographs." I looked at the pendant. Then at him. "You were listening to her talk about photographs and filing it away for the next morning," I said. "I listen to understand. We established this." "Alex." "It's a small thing." "It's not small." He put it back in his pocket. "I'll mail it. Marcus's assistant knows how to handle international sends." I watched him settle back in the seat. The ease of it. The complete absence of performance in the gesture. He'd bought a woman he'd known for one dinner a gift in her favorite color because he'd been paying attention and it had seemed like the right thing to do.

I furrowed my brows, trying my best to make my lie sound real, "—Alessio, whoever that is." A look of recognition flashed in his eyes as he abruptly stood up from his seat, "are you sure?" I nodded, "why? Do you know that Alessio guy?" He didn't reply. Sean turned his back to me and headed towards the door before walking out, closing it behind him. A smirk found it's way onto my face while I relaxed into the uncomfortable chair. He was definitely going to call Alessio to ask him about that, meaning, I wouldn't be there for long.

“Come on Vasily, when did you ever hide from your problems? Let's do this and forget this such attraction ever existed” I don’t answer. I just stare at him, my mind a blur. The city lights twinkle below, a silent, indifferent audience to a drama they will never understand. We are two rivals, two men on the brink of a war that will either unite us or destroy us both. A war fought not with bullets, but with a raw, desperate, and forbidden passion. A part of me already knows I am about to jump into something I may not be ready for but am I going to run now?