Graham Greene Novels & Stories

“Enjoy yourself, Jack. I wouldn’t leave you with someone who I thought might hurt you anymore than I would hurt you myself. And I hope you’re at least learning that I would never hurt you. Understand?” Sebastian Green climbed slowly from his 2013 charcoal grey Chevy Silverado and walked down the many rows, careful to leave them undisturbed. He walked almost blind, watching his feet, not wanting to glimpse the mounting emotion of all those left behind. He turned right onto the correct row and stopped at the last tombstone on the left. DANIEL PARKER GREEN JULY 2000-JULY 2008 LOVING SON MISSED AND LOVED BY ALL AROUND HIM

And then I see him. Graham’s at one of the cleared stations, barefoot, in joggers and a white tee that’s doing absolutely nothing to help me stay sane. He looks relaxed, but there’s this calm intensity in the way he handles the rope—coiling and sorting it like it’s sacred, like every loop matters. The kind of focus that makes your knees feel a little unreliable. When he finally looks up and sees me, he grins. It hits square in my chest and slides lower.

Mel sneers as she glares at Graham, who pulls a disgusted face as an answer. “He’s an asshole,” Graham growls. “Oh, I just talked to Damion … he’s on his way back. Says Argentina was lovely.” Mel is relentless. Graham scowls, a vein beating fast in his neck. “He fell again,” he whispers. “But at least no one died this time because of his recklessness.” Mel pales. “He still won.” I don’t have a clue what’s going on. “Yeah, that’s all he cares about,” Graham hisses. “You better watch out, winning is his one true love.” Mel stays quiet, but her eyes are fierce blue flames.

"Your rights? You conspired to get me killed. How are you so justified for your actions?" "Whoa! What did you say you studied in college? I can see that you know the laws of the land like the back of your hands. Despite that, it seems you know little of my abilities, both within the country and beyond. I am Nathan Greene, and any sh*t goes how I want it." He grabbed her closer and whispered in her ears. "Even the mayor of New York can do no shit if I want to fuck him!" "That’s better, you asshole!"

I saw the look on my executive assistant's face, and the blood in my veins turned instantly to ice. Graham was a man forged in British intelligence, a stone wall of impeccable protocol and absolute discretion. He never interrupted a closed-door finalization. But right now, his face was completely drained of color. He wasn't looking at the executives. His eyes were locked onto me, carrying the catastrophic weight of a man delivering a death sentence. He didn't speak. He bypassed the entire length of the table, walking directly to my side. He held a sleek digital tablet in his hand. "Sir," Graham said, his voice dropping to a harsh, tight whisper meant only for me. "You need to see this."

The blade sank in with practiced precision, and I felt the slight resistance of muscle giving way. Now, blood flowed freely, a dark, heavy river pouring off his legs and staining the green grass at the edge of the driveway. Graham trembled so badly his heels drummed a frantic, irregular rhythm against the dirt, like some macabre percussion. The corporate king of Houston, the man who commanded boardrooms and bent politicians to his will, was completely broken. He'd been reduced to a weeping, bleeding mess on a gravel road, and the irony wasn't lost on me.

How could he keep failing at getting rid of a small fry like Liam? On top of that, he was even more irritated because Sunniva was also involved as well. Graham's expression was incredibly darkened. He stared at the TV while the news was playing on a loop and said icily, "Don't worry, Mr. Green. It's my fault for being careless, but it's not a big issue. I'll take care of it. I definitely won't get you implicated."

he says to the guard with his usual tone. "Sir! I am sorry, I can't open the gates for any of them! Order from the General sir!" he says standing at alert. Bellman stares at the guard for a few seconds, his head almost increasing in size and asks for his name. "Tony sir! Tony Woods sir!" "Hmmmm well Samuel, I guess you can run along and go tell the good general that a certain Tony woods is threatening to destroy the city by refusing to let in our source of survival."

"Can I get something to eat?" "As what? Your wife?" Janie retorted. She blinked an eyelid with a sneered. She sat on the couch opposite him. Her eyes fixed on the television. His temper was slowly running out of check. "I don't understand! Janie get me something to eat." "This is an headline news: Good day viewers and welcome to ABC news." A beautiful lady said, giving a report. " Daniel Graham, a multi billionaire and son of Mr Graham, special adviser to the president was shot today as he advanced towards the supermarket."

She raised it for a toast but hesitated, her expression suddenly turning stone-cold. "What assurance do I have that my brother will be safe after tomorrow?" she asked, the romantic haze evaporating instantly. In the city center, miles away from the quiet tavern, Graham the lawyer was sprinting through the vivid shadows of a narrow alley. Rain slicked his hair and darkened his expensive coat into a heavy shroud. Every splash of his boots echoed off the brick walls. He reached for a rusted metal door, but a flicker of movement across the street made his blood run cold.