John C Thompson Novels & Stories

Nancy answered, giving me a reassuring smile. "He?" "Alex, Mr. Thompson. Not only did he create the vision behind this museum but this room as well. Like I said, he's a methodical man. A man who craves discipline in every aspect of his life.”

I wrinkle my nose in disgust, my irritated gaze locking onto Vivian’s serene expression, unfazed by the suffocating atmosphere. "Vivi, who did you say is coming here again? He doesn't even have the decency to be punctual. How is he going to help us?" I growl, unable to mask my irritation. Before she can respond, a elderly, raspy voice cuts through the room. "My apologies, young lad. Traffic, they say, is a bitch," the man announces, his footsteps slow but deliberate. I glance up sharply, and my breath hitches. No way... It’s not just any middle-aged man—it’s Clement Thompson, the ruthless CEO of one of the largest corporations in San Diego. His tailored suit clings to his protruding belly, e

"It's fine, Mr. Gonzalez. Even Ms. Valmont didn't know I had this clearance and credentials until a few days ago." "But how did you get all these credentials when you've been Nichole's butler since you were fifteen?" I never did think about that. Thompson had never left my side since I was little, except when I was out of the house to a place where I knew I didn't want him to be. And then when I left the house and the company three years ago. How was he able to get those credentials? "The truth is—" he paused, bowing his head. "Thompson, are you alright?" I asked, moving closer to him.

He smiled. The house was exactly like the one I described to him. Within a week we moved out of the apartment and into the house. I officially joined Thorn cider and helped Nick with running a branch of the company. My admin skills came in handy and my new skills I learned from my promotions came in handy with promoting one of their new lines along with handling the business meetings to secure new contracts. I was also given an opportunity to design a new label for their new launch. Life could not be going any better.

The conversation unfolded more smoothly than I had anticipated, and for that, I was truly grateful. Back in the common room of the house, I settled down beside Josephine. Following suit with everyone else, I selected a document to peruse, all the while engaging in a mental link conversation with her to exchange insights. As per the records, it turned out that Thompson had amassed an array of implicating documents. Among these were records detailing the influx of illicit weaponry, unverified ammunition, and narcotics—some entries concealed behind cryptic aliases that only those involved could decipher. A striking observation was that Thompson was determined to keep these documents hidden, ref