I Am Looking Respectfully Novels & Stories

She said respectfully. The receptionist put the phone back and looked at Olivia; her eyes were filled with respect now. "Miss, you can go in now. You did not tell me that you are so special; I will have to allow you to have a seat when you come in. I am sorry." She hastily apologized politely; she was almost bowing her head.

“How did you find the product?” Her lips curved into a smile, but her eyes denied it. There was no warmth in that smile. Only formality. “Oh yes,” she said with respect, bowing her head slightly. “I really do appreciate the opportunity you have given to us.” Her voice was smooth, but I could hear the distance in it. I nodded, allowing a small smile to show. At least she was showing respect. At least we were moving forward, even if only a little. “You’re welcome,” I said. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

she mused, taking a small step closer, her heels clicking softly against the floor, “or very stupid.” “Or neither,” I returned calmly. “Just honest.” That seemed to irritate her more than if I had raised my voice or matched her tone. There was something about calmness that unsettled people who thrived on reaction. She let out a soft scoff, folding her arms loosely across her chest. “You think walking in here and saying that gives you a place?” she asked, her voice dropping. “Do you even understand what this family is?” “I understand enough,” I answered. “And I understand that respect doesn’t come from titles.”

“Not this again.” She flinched—but she didn’t look away. “Please,” she said quickly. “Please let me finish.” I dragged a hand down my face and turned away, pacing once across the office before stopping. I sucked in a breath, forcing my temper down. “Fine,” I said tightly. “Finish.” Her voice was soft when she spoke again. “You’re a man of great status, Damien,” she said. “Everyone looks at you with respect. Fear. Awe.” I closed my eyes.

I recognized the look—the same one I’d gotten all my life: “Who is she?” “What is she doing here?” “She doesn’t belong.” I clenched my fists so tight my nails bit into my palms. The pain grounded me. I forced my face into what I hoped was a wide, pleasant expression. I kept my spine straight, my head up, and walked toward the head of the table. I stopped a few feet from Lucas and gave a low, respectful bow, just as I’d seen others do. “Alpha Lucas,” I said, my voice thankfully clear.

My breath catches softly, heart stumbling gently beneath quiet anxiety. Yet beneath hesitation lies cautious curiosity, openness I carefully nurture. I nod slowly. “Of course.” His voice remains gentle, carefully phrased to remove pressure or expectation. “Would you consider dinner? It's not reconciliation—just conversation.” The respectful clarity of his request surprises me, reflecting a genuine understanding of partnership rather than entitled demand. Despite lingering caution, I hesitate only briefly before responding softly, “Yes—I think I'd like that.”

As he approached Alpha Eric, he offered a respectful nod, his head bowing slightly—a gesture not of submission, but of acknowledgement. It was a subtle display of respect, one that was customary and expected when addressing someone of Alpha Eric's statue. Aiden's face was calm, composed, his eyes meeting the Alpha's without wavering. “Alpha Eric,” Aiden began, his voice smooth and measured, carrying the practiced ease of someone who had been raised in the art of diplomacy. “My father sends his greetings and his respect. He wished to be here but regrets that he couldn't be here in person as there are other pressing matters he needed to attend to but he hopes to visit you soon.”

he said, more like he came to see if I was truly alive, but well I guess I gave him a new realization. Grace tilted her head slightly, her eyes moving over me in a way that tried to stay neutral but didn’t fully succeed, “It still feels… different seeing it,” she added softly, her words carefully placed, like she didn’t want them to sound like criticism but couldn’t fully make them sound like acceptance either. My mother shifted slightly, then spoke again, “We are here to show respect,” she said, and it wasn’t emotional, it was structured, like something rehearsed for survival rather than reunion, my father followed, “Respect and acknowledgment,” as if naming it twice made it more acceptable

I took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, mentally telling myself to keep calm and just try my best to use the right words to explain to him that I don't like being disrespected for whatever reason. "Listen, Hunter..." I started. "It's Alpha Hunter to you," he interjected, and I mentally rolled my eyes. "Listen, Alpha Hunter, I also don't like the fact that I'm rude to you, especially because I understand your position and I know that I shouldn't speak to you however I like, but the issue now is, how am I supposed to be respectful to you if you can't be respectful to me?" I asked rhetorically, and he immediately glowered at me.

He speaks perfect English. "The pleasure is all mine," I say, bowing before him. He tugs me up quickly. "Nonsense, you do not need to do that before me. You're the most powerful man on earth. " I keep my mouth shut and keep my eyes just below his. "Why have you decided not to look me in the eyes? You're not a lowly man; you also have my blood flowing through you. Isn't it? " "With all due respect, you're not a mere mortal, you're superior to us all, being a god. It would be disrespectful on my part if I were to look you square in the eyes. "