Guy Germaine Novels & Stories

Louis exclaimed stepping out of my office, "I was looking for you, babe. I wanted to introduce you to August. August, this is my wife Eva.” "Oh, you have exquisite taste, Louis,” the man nodded, taking my hand to bring it to his mouth. “If this is how your wife looks like, I don't want to imagine how she... sings.” A shudder of repulsion ran through me when his mouth made contact with my skin. Who the hell was this guy? "I think I'm at a disadvantage,” I said, pulling my hand back, "Who are you?" He just chuckled; a fact that brought me even closer to Louis.

“Appreciate the advice.” Germaine gave a lazy nod, finishing his drink. “You seem calm, considering. Most men would’ve doubled their security overnight.” “I already did,” Damon said flatly. Germaine chuckled softly. “Good. Then I’ll sleep easier.” He stood, straightening his jacket. “Well, this has been… enlightening. I’m confident our companies can make something remarkable together.” “We’ll see where it goes.” Germaine extended a hand. “To new beginnings,then.”

Ruby gripped her tray like a shield, scanning for an empty table. That’s when she saw him. Kai Kingston. Standing in the center of the room like the sun— and everyone else orbited him. He wasn’t even trying. He stood there in a simple gray hoodie and dark jeans, sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms that definitely didn’t belong to someone who “didn’t care.” His hair was a perfect mess, he laughed like he owned the oxygen supply, and people practically leaned toward him when he spoke. It was disgusting. But also unfairly attractive.

"My name is Verag, and I'm Keratin's best friend." "One of my best friends." A voice spoke from behind him. Someone else walked inside, but due to the dimness of the room, Germaine could not see who it was. He moved closer to the bed, patted the donkey's head, then smiled at Germaine. "Hello, Germaine, how do you feel?" "Keratin!" Germaine was happy to see a familiar face. She sagged against the wall, weakness seeping into her.

Halfway through the room, a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and a devil-may-care smile intercepted them. “Monsieur Carrington,” the man greeted with a thick French accent. Ryan extended his hand. “Luc Fournier.” Luc’s smile widened as he turned his gaze to Irene. “And this must be your wife.” He took her hand and kissed it gently. “Madame Carrington. Enchanté. I’m Luc Fournier. It’s a pleasure.” She smiled politely. “Nice to meet you too, Monsieur Fournier. Please, call me Giselle.”

“Watching her son lose control again. Watching her perfect order crumble. And capturing Lia, stopping her from being able to control that beast… well, it is only going to help me with this game.” “And Dominic?” Blake asked. “You do realize that our initial enemy, and the man that aims to break us from the inside is Dominic, and he will stand by Marcel.” My smile widened. “That is exactly what I want… when he tries to stop Marcel,” I said softly, “when he reminds him of duty and restraint… he’ll die too. Marcel wouldn’t know what hit him as he kills his friend, which would end up casting the excommunication order.” Blake inhaled sharply.

roared Yan, attempting to act tough. Hearing that, Gerald was about to continue beating Yan up when he felt someone tug on his arm. Looking back, Gerald saw that the person was a handsome young man… Smiling as he looked at Gerald, the young man then said, “You’re a really good fighter, brother! With that said, let’s not bother about someone like him!” “…And you are?” asked Gerald with a slightly raised brow. “Ah, where are my manners! My name is Cyril Gabrio, and I’m from Jaellatra’s Arbreux Prefecture!”

Henry had certainly found a new way to torture him this time, a way Rome would’ve never dreamt possible until now. Thankfully, about halfway through Drew’s recounting of how awful Tim’s funeral was, Guy decided to come over and speak to them. Rome thought perhaps this Frenchman wasn’t nearly as bad as the other one he’d had the displeasure of speaking with recently. As soon as Guy opened his mouth, he took the thought back. “Drew. Rome. You have your new scripts?” “Yes, sir, Mr. de Chante, and let me just say--”

The man placed the cup of coffee on the table and stood up after noticing her presence, he had brown chestnut hair and emerald eyes. "This is Trevor, Nikolai's driver " Sam replied and Champagne nodded in understanding, she continued forward. "Good evening ma'am, I was sent to pick you up " the man spoke to her politely and Champagne sent him a small smile before turning to Sam. "Don't you dare leave, I will see you when am back " Champagne whispered in a warning yet warm tone before hugging Sam so tight. "I can't leave, I will be waiting for all the juicy gossip and take care of yourself " After Sam's reply, Champagne turned to Mr. Trever who had already stood up.

Soft jazz played from hidden speakers, blending with the gentle lapping of waves against the rocks below. Genevieve Moreau, a 26-year-old French fashion heiress with porcelain skin, long chestnut hair, and a graceful, voluptuous figure, stood on the terrace in a sheer white slip. The fabric clung to her body in the humid air, outlining her hardened nipples and the growing heat between her thighs. She had come for a private escape after Paris Fashion Week. She found something far more consuming. The villa door opened. Julien “Jules” Laurent, the world-famous Black French actor and producer, stepped onto the terrace. Towering at 6’10” with a powerfully athletic build, his dark skin glowed unde