Greystone Books Novels & Stories

- Calla The old Greystone Estate was just as I remembered it: silent, neglected, and surrounded by a thick, protective wall of pine and brush. The small cabin was dusty and smelled faintly of mouse droppings and aged wood, but it was mine. No guards, no Marla, and no scent of Alpha Lucien Thorne. Just freedom, purchased with a ruthless transfer of money and a clean break from a destiny I refused to accept.

Parker skips towards the house. "Precious would you mind if you call Gabriel and Ameera." I nodded and walk to where Ameera and Gabriel was reading under a bright lamp. "Gabriel, Ameera. Grey Grey wants both of you." The two of them look up and nodded. They place down their book and walk to where Grey was cooking. I look at the cover of their books. Ameera was reading "Prr-ayd. Pride is that correct?" I murmur then read the rest "annd Prr-edjustice? Nope. Again."

Of course, they stopped Emerald. The way Amelia glared at me was as if she wanted to devour me alive. Some of their relatives could not help but frown. “A bank statement isn’t something an ordinary person can tamper with. Mrs. Jones, you’re overthinking it.” Emerald broke free and lunged at me. Grabbing my arm tightly, she said in a pleading tone, “Jonathan, I was wrong. I can’t bear to suffer this humiliation anymore. “I won’t lie again. Just help me with this once. Give me back 880,000 dollars, okay?

The only thing I like about Gray’s office is that it’s filled with books. Big, thick books bound in leather, with gilt-edged pages, texts on war and military theory, encyclopedic tomes on world history, classic literature, poetry. But it’s not a library collected after a lifetime of reading. It is a library that has been purchased for show - Drew’s idea of which books should line the shelves of a military man’s office. He has a similar collection in his own office. Most of the books have never even been opened, eyes have never rested on their words, fingers have never caressed their pages. They are as untouched and virginal as nuns.

My name is Liliana Grey but since I joined the Terrance family I changed my name to Liliana Terrance. I was born and raised in America, California Los Angeles, but moved to New York when I got adopted back when I was 10. I was a college student taking psychology department in New York. I stayed at the dorm since it's near and to save myself from my oversleeping habit. Today seems to be my seventeenth birthday and I am planning to go back home to celebrate since the summer holiday is also heading near. I was walking in the hallway with tons of books to carry. I head to my locker and put the books inside easing my hand that has gone numb from carrying it.

"Just like that?" "Just like that." She smiled, small but genuine. "Proud of you." I almost believed her. Days passed in a blur of ordinary things—paperwork, walks on the grounds, avoiding thoughts of the Order and the suitors and whatever deadline loomed. The money sat there, untouched for now, a safety net I hadn't known I needed. Then, two weeks after closing, a letter arrived. Plain envelope, no return address, postmarked from Greystone. My name typed on the front.

Now, Winnie wanted to take over that achievement. “All the materials are in the shared system. Look them up yourself,” I said evenly. “Some details probably aren’t in the documents, right?” Winnie leaned in slightly. “Like what kind of tea Mr. Parker prefers, any dietary restrictions at business dinners, and his usual hobbies?” Looking at her ambitious face, I couldn’t help but find it a little amusing. “Mr. Parker likes Earl Gray tea, doesn’t eat seafood, and plays golf in his free time.” I only told her half the truth.

she said, lowering her voice, “does he know?” “No. And he won’t. I’d rather be buried under edits from when I was your editor than admit anything.” She gave me a look that clearly read ‘you’re an idiot’ but, mercifully, she let it go. “Anyway,” she said brightly, “why is everyone talking about some fancy gala next week?” I blinked. “Gala?” “Oh yeah,” she said, reaching for a flyer someone must’ve left on my desk. “Annual Greystone Publishing Gala. Fancy food, live music, and lots of networking. Also... dress code: black tie.”

Greta and Gabby made their way to Page Turner’s Bookstore just down the street from the Blue Moon Inn. Once inside the warmth of the large shop, Greta was surprised to see a bright modern shop, which included not only a metaphysical section, but my children’s section, too. With soft upbeat music playing in the background, it didn’t take long to find the shopkeeper chatting away to a rather wild looking dog by a fireplace.