Novel & Cerita Hawthorne Man

he said. The bird in the trees went quiet. The morning sat around us, cold and clear, and I stood beside this man who had been awake for five days and had just dismantled a criminal network and was standing in his garden saying thank you, and I thought about the girl who had arrived here six days ago with one bag and shoulders curved inward and a face she wore so people would not look at her too closely. She felt very far away. At ten thirty, Noa appeared at the garden door with her coat on and her keys in her hand.

The lights were dim, and a man walked in. He went straight for Harriet. "You must be Harriet. Oh, he was right… You are pretty." As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. The bottle Harriet was holding clattered to the floor as she struggled weakly, her voice filled with fear. "What are you doing? Let go! Somebody, help!" The man quickly overpowered her, and with a few rough pulls, he lifted her by the waist and marched toward the bedroom. The door slammed shut with a loud bang.

But suddenly, I doubled over as an agonized welt of pain blistered over my body… but not my pain, somewhere from the crowd, an agony emanating through the link. I regained my composure as my anxious eyes scanned over the crowd, noticing a man pushing his way past the crowd out the back exit. A hood pulled over his head as etched tattoos ran over his sleeveless arms. From what I could see he was tall and big, muscles thronging under darkened skin.

One man stood before the stove, and it was smoking like it was nobody’s business. “If you carry on like this, we’ll have to ring the bell and dispatch the truck to put out our own fires,” Mike joked, and all the men stood up. The one cooking, Sam, turned around with red eyes from the smoke. “This is Ben Atwood. He’s joining the team. The cook is Sam Vaughan.” “You mean the arsonist,” one of the men piped up. “Next time, you cook,” Sam said. “Please, I’d love to.”

But behind that flawless facade, a dirty secret lies. Hawthorne Mansion is filled with people who share the same interests—money and power. Their conversations echo throughout the room, but I act as though I am hearing pleasant words. A smile is permanently etched on my face as I socialize with my father's guest, Gabriel Hawthorne, the newly-elected president who, after a lifetime in politics, has finally achieved his desires.

Just him, leaning against the doorframe like a shadow that had followed her from the night before. She froze behind her desk. “Mr. Black.” “Ms. Hart,” he replied smoothly, though the edge in his voice betrayed him. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Last night was… interesting.” “I imagine it was for you,” she said, keeping her hands steady on the papers in front of her. His eyes flicked over her carefully, like a man studying cracks in glass. “Clara’s name seemed to rattle you. Strange, isn’t it? Most people wouldn’t react that way to a child they hardly know.”

Sweat the size of a corn seed poured down the guards' foreheads. They did not expect, in front of their eyes right now was one of the largest mafia members in the country. And that terrible man was—, "Lu—Lucy ...." . . . Hi ... thanks for reading 'Dangerous Man', sorry for the inconvenience. I will revise the previous chapter to make it even better. Don't forget to leave your review guys!: D

As they immediately struck a deal, I made a hand signal, indicating it was time for my next line of action. A man walked towards us, and my face tightened. Both Olivia and Rowan noticed the tension in the air as the man walked towards us. Rowan excused himself. Wise man. He had an idea about who I was, and did not want to involve himself with whatever I did. He has played his part by talking with Olivia and striking a deal. I was happy that he excused himself. “Long time no see Alexander. I see you got yourself yet another toy to play with. You never seem to change”, the man said with a chuckle.

He pointed his rifle at Oswald and blew his head off. The man was well prepared, crouching as he moved ahead. His hands were cold and a lump disturbed his throat. He felt his hair on the back begin to rise. The man was there. His instincts told him. It didn't matter that he couldn't find him. The man was here. He looked around. It was impossible. The only thing he could think of why he disappeared is because the man ran. There was just no place for the prey to hide.