Jacques Schnee Novels & Stories

"You know who I want to get fried? That red-headed brat." "Oh, come on, Sansa isn’t that bad," I said, still fidgeting and tugging at the collar of my white, loose, see-through turtleneck blouse. The heat was getting worse. I regretted my choice of outfit—a turtleneck was clearly a bad idea. "Is the heater on or something?" I asked, feeling a wave of heat rising in me. Sophie burst out laughing. "Girl, the heater isn’t on. Werewolves don’t usually use heaters—our body temperature is already high. Haven’t you noticed, cuddling with Jakey in bed?"

By the next morning, Jacob had a meeting set up between Joseph and me at one of the most desired restaurants in town, La Grenouille. It was one of the most iconic French restaurants in New York and it was always busy so at least both of us knew that nothing would happen while we were there. The meeting was set for eight o’clock that night and I was already pumped. I had heard some crazy things about Joseph but it didn’t bother me. He wanted me to work with him and I wanted to have an agreement between us that I could live with. Now that my group was expanding I didn’t want our men to have to worry about pissing off the Suicide Kings.

Then softer: “Be careful where you take this.” Jessica’s smile flickered. “I know exactly where I’m taking it.” Over Marie’s shoulder, a man stepped away from the crowd—young, pale, suit like a blade. He didn’t join the queue. He left a cream card on a side table and ghosted through the doors. Jessica disentangled gently, collected water, accepted two more handshakes, then drifted to the card as if idly. Embossed, spare: KARL SCHNEIDER Schneider Group — Cultural Assets Division

"Who was it?! We're the Turnbulls! Is there anyone in the country we can't challenge?! Who on earth killed my son, Walter?!" Walter sighed—Zac was clearly ready to snap. Leaning in, he told Zac under his breath, "Hans Schnee, East Coast base commander." "What… Hans Shcnee?!" Zac stumbled backward so far that he only came into his senses when he hit a banquet table. "Why him? How did my son end up messing with him? T-This isn't right…" Hans Schnee was certainly one they must not challenge, even if Zac was much richer than the man.

"Mister Schneider!" A beautiful female journalist in the audience frowned and asked, "As far as I know, the New Chesire Group in Ol' Mare seems to be developing health products, with a significant effort in early publicity. Meanwhile, your Jacobsma Group suddenly announces successful research and development without any prior notice. Is there any hidden secret behind this?" Peter's face changed slightly, and then he laughed heartily, arrogantly lifting his head. "The New Chesire Group is insignificant. No matter how much they publicize, how can they compare to our Jacobsma Group?"

(Sloane's PO‍V) ⁠We walked toward the terrace, Greta clin‌ging to Leon’s arm like a tro‌p‍hy she had already won. Herr Schn⁠eider was waiting for us‌ near‍ the stone balustrade, a thick‌ cigar‍ in one⁠ ha‍nd and a glass of cognac in the other. He was a mou‍ntain of a man, with shar‍p, intell⁠igent eye⁠s that didn't mi⁠ss a single detail.

Isaac replies with a chuckle and then we are stepping inside the portal and within moments we are standing in front of a cosy cabin. A lady in her late 40s perhaps came out a while later. Her chestnut hair was tied back in a tight bun and she wore a pristine white maxi-style dress with small blue and pink flowers printed on it. “Isaac Renaud, to what do I owe you pleasure?” she asked with a radiant smile before her smile faltered when she took in his appearance. “You had wolfsbane, didn’t you?”

Hence, the first thought that came into their minds was that Jacques was lying. Jacques seemed to have predicted that they would react in this manner, so he said bitterly, “It’s true, sir. He’s also the chief instructor of Rheasia’s Insurgent Trifecta, and he really is very powerful! The members of Insurgent Trifecta respect that Rheasian greatly!”

I blinked several times, trying to recover from the fact that this person had somehow crossed the room without me noticing. “Oh, what a lovely face,” he exclaimed with open admiration. “No wonder.” I could only stare at him in bewilderment. “I am Crie, Jaccobich’s personal designer,” he continued proudly, pressing a hand to his chest as if he had just announced royal lineage, “and I have been summoned today for a most urgent assignment.”

“Look what the winds have brought back!” Serena laughed as he pulled her into a tight embrace, nearly lifting her off the ground. “You smell different,” Jacob teased, stepping up behind Edward. “Like pine and power. You finally shifted, didn’t you?” “I did,” she said proudly, her eyes twinkling. “It happened by the lake under the full moon.” “You always had it in you,” Jacob said, ruffling her hair like he used to when they were kids. “We just didn’t know how deep it ran.”