Jared Donalson Novels & Stories

On the other end, Jared was silent for a moment, perhaps mourning his daughter, or the power slipping from his grasp. Then his voice came, low and brittle. “…Yes. I am ready.”

“Good morning, Jayden sir. You… you have a visitor.” Jayden’s eyes narrowed. “Visitor?” Athena turned to look at him, confused. “You expecting someone?” Jayden shook his head. “No. Let them in.” The staff nodded and left. Seconds later, the door opened. And there he was. Donald. Tall. Arrogant. Wearing a smug grin like he owned the world. “Well well well… if it isn’t Jayden James Bruno,” Donald said, stepping in like he was on a red carpet. “Feels good to be in the Almighty Jayden James Bruno's office.”

The door open, snapping my attention to it, my spirit dropped when John came in. I was hoping it was Marco sneaking. “Donna.” He stared, was confirming the bullshit the journalist has said. I shook my head, swallowing the thick lumps that have formed in my throat. “Where's Marco.” My voice broke, “I ask a question.” I demanded when he didn't say anything. His stare was fixed on the floor, I saw him fisting his palm and his body shook as if he were holding back his emotions. “Don is dead.” Even is voice was more broken than mine.

After what felt like an eternity, Sofia saw a faint light ahead. They emerged into a small, musty garage. Luca wasted no time, moving to an old car covered in a tarp. As he uncovered it, Sofia gasped. "Is that..." "1967 Shelby GT500," Luca confirmed, a hint of pride in his voice. "My father's prized possession. And our ticket out of here." As Luca hotwired the car, Sofia kept watch, her injured arm cradled against her chest. The wound stung, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins dulled the pain.

I nodded. “Thank you for that. Have you found out anything yet?” He shook his head. “No, Felix and Cornelius have been working on it.” I looked at him confused. “Why are they working on it?” He looked over at Lynn and she nodded at him. “Jensen, Cornelius is the Don of the Roman mafia. He is the reason why we were able to save you.”

Curling up in the chair, I waited for both of them to steep. After breakfast, I stretched on the front porch. Deciding to see how much wood I had and what I would need to cover the living room floor, I heard a vehicle come down the dirt path. Looking at my watch, it was six-thirty in the morning. I gawked openly as Desmond stepped out of his Jeep. He was wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and boots. His hair was messily combed back and even his beard wasn’t combed through. My heart hammered in my chest at the sight. The shirt pulled tight against his muscles and the jeans actually showed the shape of his legs, confirming he absolutely did not skip leg day. Nasir jumped out of the Jeep and ran t

“Hah-hah, I thought you were impressive, but you don’t have any respect for Mr. Luke, do you? Huh, why are you only wearing a Nike top? If you’re so awesome, why can’t you afford a branded suit?” Jared said with a mocking expression, “You just wear something like that to Mr. Jones’ 50th birthday party, you know that, right?”

Dad's face went pale. He gripped the microphone tightly, his voice strained. "What... What is this? Is this body donor really my son Julian Rivers?" He stared at Tara, unable to believe what he'd just seen. Tara took a deep breath, her voice catching. "Yes. The body in front of you is Julian's." The microphone slipped from Dad's hand and hit the floor with a piercing screech through the speakers. Everyone in the audience covered their ears. Dad stumbled toward the demonstration table. "How could it be Julian?"

After getting remarried, I put my husband, Steven Graham, on the family's service roster at a rate of ten thousand dollars an hour. His childhood sweetheart, Julie Ziegler, heard about it and signed a long-term contract without a second thought. Four months later, the balance in my offshore account had climbed to nearly a million dollars. On our wedding anniversary, Steven was supposed to spend the day with me. Then Julie called. Her dog had suddenly gotten sick, and she asked him to go to her. I didn't get angry. I simply sent her an encrypted message. [Don't forget to transfer the payment on time. Late fees will be charged separately.] Later, when I had an attack of appendicitis, St

“Raphael, you really are a hopeless bastard.” Seeing me cry, his body flinched, and he moved toward me on instinct. But Daphne suddenly caught his arm and said softly, “But Donna, the Don is only stating a fact.” “Seven years of marriage. You really haven't given him an heir.” “Any other man would have dumped you long ago, but the Don put up with you for seven whole years!” “He never said a word, and you're the one asking for a divorce. Aren't you being selfish? You don't spare a thought for how hard this is on him.”