Novel & Cerita James Sexton Audiobook

Eric crosses the room in a few long strides, his voice filled with warmth as he hugs the towering man. James opens his arms, pulling his son in close. His wide-brimmed hat sits perfectly atop his head, the epitome of a Southern gentleman, but his presence commands a kind of respect that makes the air feel heavier. “Where’s Stephen?” Eric asks as he hugs his brothers, Jonathan and Adam, who follow James inside. “Someone had to stay home,” Jonathan answers, his accent thick like honey, just like his father’s. My heart pounds as James turns to me. His sharp eyes pin me in place. “Sebastian,” he says, his voice low and deliberate, extending a hand.

James said,getting up from his seat while also dropping some dollar bill on the counter. "I will have to decline your request in killing Amelia. I don't kill people and I suggest you don't try it as well. Sean will make you pay if you dare hurt his woman" James warn before leaving the bar. Choosing to ignore James. Bridget take out her phone to make a call. "I want you and your boys to get rid of someone for me" PRESTON ESTATE Sonia scream out from her sleep, jolting into a sitting position on the bed. Her head beaded with sweat while her gaze dart around the room like she's looking for someone.

"I love you man." "I love you too bro." James sniffled and Brock ended the call. James then wiped the tear off his face and sneaked away from his comrades' presence to the back on the staircase. He unzipped his leather jacket and brought out the bomb, about the size of a fist from one of it's pockets. He set the bomb to five minutes because that was the minimum time it could be set too. He sighed then leaned on the wall and slowly lowered himself to the ground then buried his head inside his palms, reflecting and pondering. Unknowing to James, Jackson, one of Fernando's sons who was fleeing from the West Hall after loosing track of Beatrice and her son, was coming down the stairs and had see

The voice on the other end was calm and gentle, instantly putting me at ease. "Yes, this is Carina. Who's calling?" I asked, curiosity piqued. "This is James. James Wright Harlow," he replied, and I immediately recognized the name. Jonathan's son. "Oh, hello, James. It's nice to hear from you," I said, glancing at Martins, who was now looking at me with interest. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the dinner." "It's a shame," James said, his tone warm and understanding. "I was really looking forward to meeting you. I've heard so many good things about you, and I wanted to see for myself the pretty face everyone was talking about."

Selena’s POV I walked down the hallway, lost in thought, my heels clicking on the floor. But my thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind me. “Madam Selena.” I heard a familiar voice call out to me. I turned to see James, one of Dominic's most trusted men, if not the most trustworthy. He was standing right behind me. He was a tall, muscular man with a rugged face and a sharp jawline. He was putting on a black suit and His eyes seemed to bore into mine, as if he could see right through me.

"No, I won't let you go. I won't—won't lose you. Won't—won't let depression win. Won't—" "It's not depression," James said. "It's—it's clarity. The entity was—was loud. Distracting. Terrible but—but present. And now—now I'm just alone with myself. With—with what I did. With—with boy who murdered his parents. And I can't—can't live with that. Can't—can't be that. Can't—"

DOMINIC’S POV Dr. James Sterling’s office felt different from the one I had left behind. The walls had warmer colors. More books lined the shelves, a large plant sat in the corner, its leaves reaching toward the window like it had been there for years. James himself was fifty-two. He moved with the kind of stillness that came from decades of sitting with other people’s difficult truths without being shaken by them. I sat down across from him and felt the weight of starting over.

One of them was the young master of the Witch Doctor Sect—Levi Bayer. The man looked at James and said with a frown, “Dad, the time has long passed. Why haven’t you learned how to control your temper yet? Look at you. You are already so old. How long more do you have to live? Could it be that you don’t want to have someone to look after you and arrange a proper burial after your death?” It turned out that this man was James’s son and Cheryl’s father—Franklin Coney. “Even if I’m dead, I don’t need you to give me a burial! Get lost!” James was so angry that he roared, his eyes bloodshot.

James returned her hug and said smilingly, “I’m back.” A few women watched their intimate interaction enviously. Among them were Maxine, Sienna, and James’ other disciple, Monica. Monica’s cultivation rank was relatively low, so she watched from a distance. “Dad?” A hesitant voice called out to him. Thea immediately let go of James. She pulled Noel over and said smilingly, “This is your son, Noel Caden.” James had already learned about Noel while inside the copper coffin. He patted Noel’s shoulder and said smilingly, “Wonderful.”

" James's voice got louder, but it didn't change. His finger crept over the trigger, and for the first time in years, he felt like his will was unbreakable. The chamber seemed to lean in on them, and even Damon's men halted and waited. Mimi's breathing was irregular, and her hands were clenched at her sides. Jaxon, who was hidden in the dark, felt tense as if he was about to jump. James stepped forward on purpose and aimed his rifle at Damon's chest. He cried again, louder and more firmly, "This ends tonight, Damon." The words cut through the hall like glass breaking. Damon's smirk went away, but the sparkle in his eye promised blood. James felt like the world stopped for a second, and all t