Franky Novels & Stories

As for Franky, Gabriella did some research on Google and Twitter. Franky, real name Frank Caddel, aged 31, was younger than the first two. As a new-generation photographer, he owned an award-winning piece from a previous Mountain Streams International Photography Competition. His forte lay in seamlessly combining people and landscapes, skillfully using scenery to enhance characters and vice versa. It was a technique that earned him widespread acclaim. Looking at the course descriptions, each had its unique features, and they all started around the same time. Gabriella found herself in a bit of a dilemma.

he warned coldly. Franky rubbed his forehead, nursing a sudden, throbbing headache. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a cigarette and flicked a lighter. His first drag was deep and prolonged, sending a cloud of thick gray smoke floating up toward the white overhead lights, curling like storm clouds in broad daylight.

Axel's POV “Frank,” I warned, already feeling a migraine stretch across my skull, “you don’t want to do this.” “Oh, but I do,” Frank hissed with a level of seriousness that was almost suicidal. “He called me Fraynik. I think everyone heard it.” Alex wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning so hard I nearly punched him myself. “Come on, Fraynik, it was just a little name-calling. You’re not still upset about that ridiculous ceremony where they announced you as 'Fraynik of the Eastern Hills', are you? gods, I still have nightmares about it.”

I look up, expecting to see Giovanni looking apologetic but it’s not him; instead, it’s Frankie. He’s taller than Giovanni but with the same build. His skin is slightly tanned, with the same dark hair slicked back and piercing Vittori blue eyes as his brother. The only difference is Frankie is tattooed right up to his neck and the tips of his fingers. He sees me sitting there and winces when he notices the uneaten food. “Gio didn’t let you know he wouldn’t be home?” he asks, and I nod. “Ouch. Mind if I eat this?”

she drags the back of her hand across her eyes. “I don’t mean to rush you, I mean, I’m sure the leaders will let you stay as long as you want, but I need some information from you.” “You want to know about Marcel.” I almost feel bad for getting right to it, but time is of the essence. Frankie sighs and raises her head to the sky. A small grin spreads across her lips as the clouds pass overhead and the sunlight bathes her skin in a golden glow. “It’s been so long since I’ve stood in the sunlight.”

Little did I know that he was playing some stupid game on me. “Whatever happens, you know that you can always come to me. Brothers, remember?” He asked, landing where I wanted him. At least, for now. “Always and forever” I said, smiling at him. Frank, one of the waiters, brought us two coffee cups, but seeing as I got up, both men frowned. “Aren’t you going to drink something at least? You rarely ever leave…” “Please excuse me this time, Tyler. I just arrived from a flight and I’m exhausted as hell” I said, watching as Dante walked out of the café silently. Nicolas frowned but nodded, and putting a hand on my lower back, he guided me to the door like he usually did.

So Erwin wanted to give him something. "Seventeen thousand." The other guy said, seeing Erwin Wilson not responding, that he felt that he would not make such a large amount of money. His thinking is correct. Indeed, now Erwin Wilson could not spend such a large sum of money. First, his bank card hasn't arrived yet, and second, his money is all in Frederick Hall's wallet. “Because you have good eyes. I really like people like you. That's why I only took you fifteen thousand!" The other guy smiled and said, “Oh yes, my name is Franky James.”

They ate in easy silence at first, but soon, she started asking him questions. Simple things. "What's your favorite movie?" He shrugged. "Don't have one." She gasped dramatically hands on her heart . "Blasphemy." He smirked. "What's yours?" "Easy. Baby ." He groaned. "Figures." She stuck out her tongue. " What's your favorite color?" Kane hesitated. "Black." She snorted. "That's not a color." His gaze darkened. "It is to me." Mona giggled, shaking her head. "Fine. Black it is."

Ah, well, he already has. “How about we play a game of truth or dare?” I proposed cheekily. “Would that finally make you stop talking?” he quipped. “How can we play if I remain silent?” I responded sarcastically. “Tsc.” He smirked in response. “Alright, I’ll start first,” I said with excitement. “Truth or dare?” I asked with enthusiasm. “Truth,” He responded calmly. That was quick, Frankie. You must really want me to know you better. “What’s your full name?” I suddenly realised how little I knew about his identity; all I knew was that he was Frank and worked as a butler.

Paul declared, in a fatherly tone. “As you wish,” I noted. My friendship with Paul wasn’t going too well, and Saturday was starting to make me feel really uneasy. Jane was waiting for me outside the locker room. Brian was just introducing Frankie when I arrived. We headed home. “We’re going to the movies together, did you hear?” Frankie asked excitedly once we were in the car. Frankie was a bit scatterbrained and often spoke before thinking. He was born with a condition and went to a special school as a kid, but he’d since caught up—only the impulsiveness remained.