I Am Looking Respectfully Novels & Stories

If you can't keep eye contact and speak boldly, you aren't worth their time. His eyes narrow, I keep my eyes glued to his. I knew what he was doing, sizing me up. I take a small step forward, holding his gaze and lifting my chin ever so slightly. I am not a weak woman. "Alexander Ce-troy," he nods his head respectfully. Meaning I passed his test.

she began respectfully, her voice firm yet laced with a hint of fear. "With all due respect, I'd like to speak first.”

she said, glaring at me. “Are you done?” I asked, looking her in the eye. Her eyes widened in surprise at my response, and seeing as she didn’t respond, I nodded “I am here because I want to be by your son’s side. Alexei is my mate and I will respect and treat him as such. I am never going to ask you to accept me, nor would I be asking you to like me; however, in front of the maids, servants, or any of those who work for this pack’s Alpha, I ask that you show me the slightest bit of respect”

I saw her brow lift slightly, registering my words. “I’m not here to cause a scene,” I continued. “I just need to speak to the president—or at least someone who handles such sensitive information. Once I deliver the message, I’ll quietly leave.” With every word I spoke, I laced it with genuine respect. I knew we lived in a world where respect often determined how far a conversation could go. When you give someone honor, they are more likely to respond in kind. Not because they are obliged to, but because respect is a universal language of decency. That’s something I had learned not from books, but from life.

His voice rolls through the hall like distant thunder, calm but commanding: “You may rise.” I lift my head fully. His eyes, sharp and calculating, lock onto mine. Not a flicker of surprise, not a hint of emotion. Just the unwavering stare of a man who measures everything in control and consequence. Nina stands silently behind me, a quiet shield, but I feel the weight of the hall on my own shoulders. “I am Melissa,” I say, voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. “I come as instructed to pay my respects to the royal family.”

I made sure my posture was casual, but “I thought about you last night.” That made him pause, he didn’t shift, but the flicker in his eyes were enough, He let out a slow breath “and?” “And I decided I respect you,” I answered, deliberately choosing words. “That’s rare for me.” “Respect doesn’t require confession.” He said. “Niether does curiosity.” I lifted my chin “but here I am.” He pushed off the counter, coming closer. His height, his presence, it pressed down on me like gravity, his voice low enough that it hummed against my skin.

he asked, sharp enough to cut. Damon finally lifted his head. “You don’t want to start with me.” Simon’s chair scraped back as he stood. “I asked you a question. Is. Something. Funny?” Johnson moved between them instinctively, palms out. “Hey. You should respect your mother.” Damon laughed, short and humorless. “No. He should respect himself and stop bringing that bullshit my way.” Lilian’s chair moved back abruptly. She stood, lips pressed tight. “You clearly have no respect for me at all.”

The only difference was that the people in front of her didn't know how she was but she had been aware of how he was. Sighing, she stepped forward and stood in the middle, in front of all of them. Her gaze roamed all over their lowered heads and to be honest, she didn't like it. She was not a person who favoured people getting afraid of her or getting nervous from her presence. "If you all have lowered your eyes in respect for me then I totally appreciate it but you can look at me because even with our eyes, we can be respectful towards another person," she stated in her loud but polite voice. One by one, everyone started looking at her, after hearing her words.

I announce my arrival from the door, putting enough distance between myself and his desk. For reasons not fully understood, it still feels so awkward around him. He looks up at the desk right at me without saying a thing for a while. I bow my head to avoid his gaze. “You’re acting more respectable than your usual disobedient self.” He comments, rising from his desk. I take offence in his words instantly but maintain composure. “I have to show my respects while in your presence, right?” “I don’t remember you ever bothering to show respect around me. You're usually running your mouth without control. I’d much prefer that.” He comments, smiling wickedly and stepping even closer to me.

But this doesn't affect me, because I have better things to do in my life than worrying about some petty people. You can't force anyone to respect you because real respect comes from the heart; otherwise, it is just a pretense. While these people, whom they called rogues, were nothing but nice to me. Their eyes show gratitude and happiness because someone listened to them and tried to help them instead of ignoring them, as most other people do.