Fuller House Charles Novels & Stories

Thankfully, Jax had sent a picture of the history home work. “Charles” I knocked on the door. It was half way opened. “Charles, can I come in?” No response. I pushed the door opened further and closed it. Charles lay on the bed, tossing a ball to the ceiling and catching it back and nodding in entertainment to the headphones on his ears. He still didn't look up but he knew I was in. I dropped the book on his desk. I waved in front of him and he pulled the headphones off, placing the ball by his sides.

"Right! Sophie gave it to me. She was there too at the time. Megan and her even pretended not to know each other." But why was Great-Uncle Harold asking this? And how did he know about the layout of our house? Great-Uncle Harold’s expression grew solemn. Stroking his beard, he spoke in a low voice, "All of your bad luck likely started because of that thing." Daniel was an atheist, but seeing how serious Great-Uncle Harold looked, even he began to half-believe. "Great-Uncle Harold, what do you mean? I don’t quite understand."

He voiced, desperate to know what her thoughts were. "I am simply elated to know I have caused no trouble." He nodded and scoffed. She was curious but did not want to appear so. He didn't care, she could appear however she wanted. Charles decided to put her out of the misery curiosity had placed her. "I intend to build a home for poor mothers. My solicitors are to calculate the cost." Her irritated eye twitched. "A home for poor mothers? That is a noble cause." She patted down her hair and refilled his cup. Charles did not do it for nobility or to receive praise, it was simply an act. "The meal was wonderful." She commented.

Williams's mind, and he stopped. He turned around. "Mr. Charles, can I have a word with you please?" Mr. Williams asked, "Of course," Charles responded. He walked closer and bowed again. "Thank you for taking good care of my daughter and watching over her all these months." Charles had his hands into his trousers pocket as he beamed at the older man. "Are you forgetting that she's my wife? Of course, is my responsibility." Charles uttered proudly. And this made Mr. Williams smile.

His narrowed eyes showed both concern and a spark of something harder to name. “It’s been raining a lot. Your leg must feel worse.” “I’m fine.” The conversation should have ended there. However, he stayed. Charles hesitated, then spoke softly. "I don't come here often. I am looking for someone to help me take care of my house. Can you help me find someone suitable if you have time?" Poor people have no dignity. He had set the stage, and I was prepared to take it. "There's no need for that. What do you think of me?"

“His full name is Charles Arthur Lancelot Harold IV. He is the first born to Francis and Colton Harold of the Harold Company. His father is CEO and they are a multi-billion dollar company and Charles was raised as the rich asshole kid in all those stories. He goes by Charles Pierce now to not be hounded while working.” I couldn’t help it. My jaw dropped open and I turned back to look at the door my mate just walked through. Being Gamma meant I was around Alpha and Beta a lot. So I had met Charles and while I wasn’t one to go hang out at the bar with them, for how often we saw each other I would consider him more than an acquaintance. But never once did I think that he would be the son of a b

I felt like I was going to throw up any minute now. We pulled up to a large pack house. The outside was cream colored with dark burgundy wood shutters and front doors. There was a u shaped driveway in front with parking spaces to the side. Charles took a deep breath before getting down. I remember him saying how strained his relationship is with his father. I hope that perhaps they will get along today.

With a silent understanding, they turned their attention back to their respective tasks. Gathered in Charles' spacious living room, the trio engaged in a lively conversation about the enigmatic Albert Wright, known for his immense wealth. Charles leaned back in his armchair, his voice filled with awe and disbelief. "I told you guys that old man is freaky rich," Charles exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Damn wealthy, I'm telling you!" Lucas, sitting across from Charles, nodded in agreement. "You wouldn't believe it, but Albert Wright actually paid the actors and models again," he revealed, his voice laced with astonishment.

When Alexa finished speaking, Charles could hear his inner mind screaming blood and fighting, but he holds himself back, is throat aching a drink so bad. "Are you proud of the life you are living now? Huh! You left home, and you didn't bother to notify me that you won't be coming home! Instead, you make me worried!" Charles finally let out his own thoughts. However, Alexa only finds it funny and wasn't moved by his explanation. Instead, she finds it disgusting.

“We’ve talked about this, Charles. I’m going to take whatever life throws at me. Once we’re done here we’ll do exactly as you wish. We’ll move to any country of your choice and have all the fun in the world.” “Do you promise?” “I promise.” “Okay, but you’ll eat every single thing I make for dinner,” he says, smiling through his tears at me. He was such a softie despite his hard exterior. “Deal.” I smile up at him, wondering about the new food he’s going to cook this time. Charles is the kitchen guy around here and I'm…nothing exactly. Maybe just the sick kid. “You better leave your stomach entirely empty for me darling,” he responds.