Holden Cross Novels & Stories

Conri growls… “Cr-crossbreeds…You a-are in-indeed a c-catastrophe…Y-you must vanish or else…I must inform them-“ “Do you know what? Why crossbreeds remain legends?” “Yo-“ “It’s because…no one has ever lived after seeing them.” “Ug----kkk!” Conri pulls the ice bow from the Lighten’s knee and watches him slowly losing his breath. "Con, is it not done yet?" Royu flashes in front him like a flowing soundless lightning. "Yeah, let's go. Where is everyone?" Conri asks. "Matt is already cleaning the mess. What should we do after this?"

Inside was a cramped office, overflowing with industrial cleaning equipment and the sharp scent of bleach. Moturanyo stepped in tentatively, her eyes darting around. "Wait... how do you have a key to this place? You aren't staff here." Kingsley turned to face her, his silhouette framed by the harsh fluorescent light. "Moturanyo, you act as if you have a shred of sense. You act like you know me, but you don’t even know my full name." He stepped closer, his presence suddenly suffocating. "My name is Anderson Kingsley. Does that mean anything to you?"

“He’s burning it all down, and he’s doing it with your name in his mouth. Lana—this isn’t a fling. This is everything.” I swallowed hard. My heart was racing, thudding so loudly I could barely hear the anchor’s voice as it came back in. “…a hostile takeover of Harrington’s remaining shares is already underway. CrossTech stock has surged in pre-market trading. Nathan Cross has declined further comment.” But he didn’t need to say more. He’d already said everything that mattered. And as I sat there, shaking in the middle of the chaos, one thing became painfully, irrevocably clear:

But, I had just found out that I was expecting Rosy, and I was completely turned around by the news. I hear the sound of tires followed by a boom. Two cars had just collided at an intersection. No smell of blood and more fear than harm, apparently. Intersection... Crossroads. I look down at my screen again and try to enter the place's name. A muffled cry leaves my lips. In the West, lost on the road in the middle of nowhere. Placed at an unlikely crossroads : Crossroad Café.

“It’s the reason I got hired at the firm.” “That’s why your mother loves him?” “Oh yeah, and Mark is an acceptable choice for a Welsh.” I could see Alessio turning his head slightly to listen to our conversation. His eyes glanced back at me in the rearview mirror and I felt the intensity of his stare. “Who does your mother deem worthy of a Welsh?” Callie asked the question but I could feel Alessio’s eyes on my face, glancing between the road and me with a keen expression. We pulled into the parking lot and Alessio parked outside an industrial building. It was nondescript except for a large light-up sign with the words BCE Data.

Bianca was sold to a mafia lord at a very young age and all she could think about was getting revenge. Her plan was going well until the mafia lord's son, Nico, came into the picture. Nico was handsome and cold, brutal but calm. However, when he met Bianca, she brought out his troubled side. He didn't want her. She didn't care. In fact, she hated him. She felt he was emotionless and he felt she was too tough. Both were intrigued. ~♡~ "The only thing stopping me from taking you right here on this table, is that you belong to my father." His voice was tensed and I didn't need to see his face to know how he felt. "My father's whore." He added. I swallowed, hurt by his words. "You

There are beautiful stain glass windows of the grand gothic architectural style, running parallel to each other on either side of the hall. Each window has different symbols on them, of which some I recognize. There is a picture of a moon and opposite it is an eclipsed moon. The next set has the sun and eclipsed sun, followed by a strophols and serpent. Another set had Isis with wings showing her transformation into a bird and opposite is of a scorpion.

Was this all a calculated game, or was there an actual point to this madness? Holden sat back in his chair, his expression tight. “This is sentimental nonsense, Cross. We’re talking about hard numbers here, not coffee shops.” “And that’s why you’ll never beat me,” Damian said smoothly, his lips curling into a small, satisfied smile. “Because you think people are just numbers. I don’t.” Holden’s face reddened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he stood abruptly, motioning to his team. “We’ll reconsider our position and circle back with you next week.”

Evren wrinkled his nose and spoke before thinking. "You reek of blood." The man nodded as he grinned. "Sorry, I did wash my hands but I do admit sixty seven kills at once would leave a bad smell." Impressive, Evren almost said but he nodded instead. The man extended his hand towards Evren. "I'm Holden, your future commander. Nice to meet you." Evren eyed him, looking him over before his gaze dropped to the crevices of his fingernails. They were stained with blood.