Glory Cast Novels & Stories

Lyod:: You always have your way with words of glory, I hear my best compliments from you, thank you so much. Glory:: You're always welcome sir. We finished eating and glory cleared the table. Lyod:: (my thoughts) It seems glory is in love with me, can this be true? Her compliments are so touching. I think I love this girl too, should I give it a try? Oh God help me.

Ezra said, taking a seat beside her and checking her pulse. “Where am I, who’re you?” “You’re in heaven and I’m an angel, Glory hallelujah.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” She scoffed and tried rising, she was hit with a sharp pain at her stomach. She groaned falling back on the bed. “Don’t you try doing that again, you ain’t fully recovered yet.” “I’m fine.” She muttered. Gritting her teeth. Memories of what happened flashed through her. The gunshots. She was here. In Kenzo’s mansion. The room she had been with Sara.

Her legs buckled as she cried out, “Please, Alpha, it wasn’t my idea! Alicia made us do it. I swear!” Grayson narrowed his eyes. “And yet you still went along with it. Tell me, when Evelyn was begging for her life, did you show her mercy?” Gloria couldn’t answer, her sobs choking her words. Grayson nodded toward the guards, and they forced her arm out. As Grayson lifted the rod, Gloria fainted, collapsing onto the ground in a lifeless heap. Beta Luke knelt to check her pulse. “She’s alive, but barely.” “Wake her up,” Grayson ordered coldly.

"Ms. Gloria Lynch, Mr. Arnold Sullivan, you're under arrest on suspicion of large-scale fraud, money laundering, and aggravated assault. You'll need to come with us." In the next instant, handcuffs clicked around the wrists of the once-untouchable couple. Mom didn't resist. Instead, she fixed her gaze on Daniel. Her eyes burned with a hatred so fierce that it seemed she wanted to tear him apart with her bare hands. "Look into him! Investigate that monster! He's the one behind all of this!"

Just after five in the morning, the house erupted into chaos outside my bedroom. Cameron knocked loudly. "Naomi, hurry up! Your makeup artist is downstairs! We need to get your styling done first!" Still half asleep, I cracked my door open slightly. All four of them were dressed impeccably. Naomi wore a tiny crystal crown in her hair, lifting her skirt in pure excitement, looking as though she were preparing to step onto a red carpet.

Danial looked like he was about to yell when Crystal grabbed his arm gently and whispered, “Danial. Gloria is the best medicinal practitioner in the academy. If we go in, we’ll only distract her. Let’s wait... okay?” Danial breathed in heavily. For a moment, it looked like he might argue. But then he sighed and nodded. “Fine…” They sat down. And waited. An hour crawled by. More matches continued in the background arena—but Danial didn’t notice. His eyes were glued to the operating room doors. Every passing second stretched like a minute. Then finally, the doors creaked open, and Gloria stepped out, looking utterly drained. Her hair stuck to her face with sweat, and her normally sharp gaze lo

“It was only two months without medication. How could she die? It was only two months…” Her eyes reddened, and her voice trembled as she questioned me again and again. I let out a cold laugh. “Jaime, are you feeling guilty because you killed someone?” Her face turned ashen. “It was only two months. How could she die without medication?” “Do you know that I fell off a cliff, was taken to the hospital, and stayed in a coma for a month? Did you visit my mother even once during that month?”

As he glances back at Darryl, Leonardo says, “He can do the dirty work for us!” He gets off Katcha and lifts her, making her face the glowing man. She gasps and takes in a deep breath as the pressure of the sofa is taken off her face. She squints through the plastic, unable to discern what was making such a bright light. “Now, Goldie! Send her to Hell!” Leonardo commands with a triumphant smile. Not a split second later, he gets thrown across the room, knocking the air out of his lungs. The light fades not long after. Goldie walks over to Katcha and grabs her by the arm.

The Architects' murmurs were drowned, swept aside by a single deep resonance. The corrupted numbers stopped, their advance spasmodic and bewildered. They recoiled away from the golden radiance, which was incinerating their shadow-forms with a searing explicitness. "He's fighting them!" Gloria panted, amazement in her voice. "He's fighting them using the raw energy of the Lode!"

In the seventh year of our marriage, my wife, Serena Clark, digs up my parents' urns and places them in front of me. Then she gives me two choices. "Either give your designs to Seth so he can enter the competition, or I'll scatter your parents' ashes into the sea," she says. Clutching the designs I've just finished, I swallow my pride and give in as tears burn in my eyes. The next day, a photo of Seth Johnson sitting on a yacht scattering ashes goes viral. Serena comments beneath the photo, "I'll give you everything I have and spoil you rotten." I stare at the urns in the corner of the photo, feeling my blood run cold. My deceased parents and I have become tools Serena uses to please S