Fuller House Charles Novels & Stories

"She came to me and threatened to eradicate my whole family all because of something that Charles did. Charles offended the heir of the Parker family." Everyone looked at Charles with angry eyes. He had the nerve to make an enemy of such a powerful family. What was he thinking? Charles on the other hand was confused. He never even met anyone who was affiliated with the Parkers of Richmond. So how could he have offended them? It didn't make sense at all. "She at least showed us some mercy. She said she would let us live if I hand over my 60 percent share of Chamberlains Pharmacy," Charles said in disappointment. He lost everything he worked so hard for. This would break anyone.

I said, still catching my breath. “I think it's time to remove the pests from our house.” Charles replied, getting up to put on his pants.

Rosina said, rushing after him. “I’m fine,” Charles replied without slowing, already halfway down the stairs. In the lower hallway, Mrs Camilla was moving slowly, swinging a tray of incense, muttering prayers under her breath, words about blessings, fulfilment, and good fortune finally settling in the house. She paused mid-chant when she saw Charles, hastily setting the tray down. “Charles, sweetheart,” she called out, “are you leaving already? I thought you’d be home all day.” He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at her. He walked straight past her and out the door.

Charles stared up at the night sky from the balcony off his bedroom, trying to clear his head. He always felt more at peace when he was outside. Maybe it had to do with his house being too big for one person. It was so much empty space that he felt claustrophobic, the silence pressing in on him from all sides. But all the other hedge fund managers said that if he wanted to be taken seriously, he needed to look the part. That meant the fancy car, expensive suits, and gigantic house that was nestled inside a gated community. Charles had drawn the line at hiring someone to cook for him. He was afraid that if he couldn’t even warm up his own burritos, he’d lose touch with reality—and himself.

I ask, hands raised, and I swear Damon is about to lunge, his tell obvious after being on the receiving end of his anger more times than I can count. “NO bodily fluids in MY house,” he retorts, not finding my answer as entertaining as his father. Charles hasn’t said another word, just watching and eating a whole pecan pie. As if he is watching dinner theater. “How fucking hard is that? Between the two of you, you own SIX different bedrooms. You couldn’t find one of those to fool around in?” “Or just pull a Damon and get a shower,” Charles chuckles, shaking his head recalling the memories. “Like we don’t all know about his shower fetish.”

Charles says, grinding his teeth again. "I've heard that one before," Dillon says. "Pay me for the poison, and then we'll talk. Maybe. But I'll need the full amount, in cash, upfront this time. I'm not going to be played for a fool by some spoiled idiot with delusions of grandeur." He hangs up, and Charles glares down at his phone in fury. Delusions of grandeur, indeed. Charles is going to make it. He is. But first, he needs his mother out of the way. She knows too much.

“I'm better; don't worry. I don't know how I missed the time this morning. I started to say, but he cut me off. “You missed the time because you worked until late yesterday, so it's not your fault. Besides, it was only a minute late, but he still chose to punish you even when you told him you felt sick. Why is he so heartless?” Charles fumed, his hands balling up into fists. Charles was a charming man and a child at heart; he hardly got angry, so for him to be this furious, it was pretty serious. But I knew why; it was because it was about me, and it warmed my heart to see him so concerned. If only I had met him sooner at my former pack, he was the perfect lover.

She started to close the door, but Charles shoved his arm through the slit and used his considerable strength to force it open. "Charles, no!" Ashton coughed and tried to leave the bed. "Bloody fool." Charles growled and rushed to catch him. He glared at Rosalind when she tried to help put Ashton back into bed. Charles's fine clothes were rumpled, and he seemed as exhausted as she felt, with dark circles under his eyes. While she had been tending to Ashton, he had helped keep the Lennox household running and had overseen the construction of the tenant farmer houses. Both he and Jonathan had been incredibly helpful.

“But it’s not just the house, Fiona. It’s the people who fill it. That’s what makes it home.” Before Fiona could respond, Charles walked in, looking as effortlessly handsome as ever in a casually fitted shirt and pants. His presence filled the room, but there was a gentleness about him now something that hadn’t been there in the past. He looked at his family with a kind of reverence, as though the world had finally given him the one thing he had always longed for. “Everything’s set for tonight,” Charles said, his tone light but steady. “The team will be here soon. We’ve kept it simple just family and close friends.”

Now he doesn't know how to look at him anymore. "What did you see today?" Mr. Charles asks digging into his pockets in search of something. He pulls out a cigarette from his pocket and lights it with a small lighter he keeps in his back pocket. Eric knows what he suppose to say, Nothing, I didn't see anything But did Mr Charles really expect him to deny what he just saw? "A saw a man beat his wife half to death" He throws his cigarette on the ground, frustrated and angered by the audacity of his young assistant. He plants a clean punch on the young fuckers face