Front Man Novels & Stories

At that moment, an irate man's voice cut through the tension. A middle-aged man with a commanding presence approached, flanked by a retinue of his kin. He was Rainger Brown, head of the Brown family, one of Mareno City's most influential clans. Trailing just behind him was a seasoned man in his sixties, with a deep gaze and a formidable presence. He exuded the initials of a martial general, every inch the veteran warrior. "Who are you people!?" Rainger demanded, his entourage halting before Howard and his companion. His scowl was thunderous, a storm ready to burst.

I take an involuntary step back as the man with those terrifying red eyes steps into the hall, his smirk curling like poison across his lips. His face—it’s Adam’s face. My heart pounds painfully in my chest, my instincts screaming at me to run, but my legs feel rooted to the ground.

The two ran to the water like kids wetting themselves and jumping without hesitations and fear. While arranging the stuffs I brought, I suddenly realized something and look back at them. They seriously look like humans; they can be wet. I watched them until Angelo came to me running and taking his sleeves off him. My breath shortened seeing his half naked body. His 6 pack abs are outshining the sun. A gulp followed after I close my mouth for almost drooling over his sexiness. “Don’t you wanna join us?” he asked panting a bit.

The man in front of Darun was dressed in a white robe that barely covered his chest as he sat firmly on the ground, and even though his face was mostly obscured in the darkness, the small tinge of light reflecting from the inside of the house on his body, was enough for Darun to admire the deeply outlined muscles on his arms and chests, which was a big contrast to Darin’s body regardless of how often he exercised. “Come here…” Darun heard the young man in front of him order as he continued to beckon towards him with his left hand.

she asked, her words quivering with a mix of fear and defiance. The first hefty man, whose eyes gleamed with a sinister glint, cast a disdainful gaze upon her. "Can't you figure it out, Rowan? We're not here to hold hands and sing songs. We're in the business of transactions, buying and selling," he replied, his voice dripping with malevolence. His name was Marcus, and his presence exuded a chilling aura.

Frank tried to write something, but he couldn't even hold a pen steady. After Joseph applied a few acupuncture needles to Frank, Frank's trembling hand gradually steadied. He was finally able to hold a pen and write, "Save my son." "Your son isn't in this hospital, and my reach only goes so far. You know how ruthless the Croma faction can be. If they find out I'm helping you, they won't let me off easily. I have no obligation to risk my neck for you. Unless, of course, you give me something in return."

I had just stepped out of the office when I saw Harold Jefferson walking over with Susan Lawson and her son, Jacob Lawson. Jacob seemed to have told a joke, as the three of them were laughing happily. A sense of bitterness welled up in my chest, and I instinctively stopped in my tracks. The moment Jacob saw me, his expression changed. He quickly hid behind Harold. Instantly, Harold adopted a defensive stance with an icy glare as he asked accusingly, "What are you doing here?"

“I’m sure he's fine.” “I hope so.” **** He was standing, facing the wall, a man was standing in front of a mirror, having similar figures with that of a familiar man they knew, appealing shaving cream to his face. Behind his thin lips was a smile, a bad at that. He was waiting for orders, let him say the words, huge with hefty muscle, the only significant thing on him was a cut on his both cheeks with was appear to be an old scar. The man in front of the mirror crossed his hands at his back, he was near yet his voice sound so distant.

I tilt my head looking him over, his dark deep-set eyes reddened as if from crying. “Frank!” Robin says, smiling brightly. He turns to face her, but the pain stays at the forefront of his mind. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice coming off harsh and menacing. “Ok, rude!” Mason says, walking over to him. The man rubs his face roughly with his calloused hands and looks at Mason. “Sorry. I’m just going through some stuff.” Mason reaches out and gives the man a big hug. “Ok, introductions please,” I say, looking down at my watch. I’m running out of time before the ceremony.

Luca. I broke into sobs, burying my head into Luca’s chest. Familiar. Less dangerous. Almost fatherly. He wrapped his arms around me lightly. “Shh, Donna, it’s all fine.” He whispered. Mariano stood in front of me in a protective stance. The man from earlier stuttered something in Italian. Mariano punched him, square in the eye. The man flew, landing against the other wall. He punched him, over and over, till he was bleeding profusely. My blood curdled at the sight, but I couldn’t look away.