Julian Morrow The Secret History Novels & Stories

He closed the door behind him, the lock engaging with a sound that felt like a coffin lid snapping shut. With terrifying slowness, Julian unbuttoned his damp overcoat and tossed it onto a chair. He walked toward the bed, his footsteps completely silent against the plush carpet. I tried to pull the sheets over my lap, but he was too fast. He reached out, his large hand wrapping around the edge of the duvet, and ripped it away from me in one violent motion. There, sitting on the dark mattress, was the glowing tablet. Julian looked down at it. A dark, pitying smile spread across his lips—a smile that chilled me to the very marrow of my bones. He reached down, picked up the device, and tapped th

" He passed a file to Alex. Alex took it and opened it. "And sir, here's the bullet of the gun aimed at you.." He gave Alex a plastic bag with a bullet in it. Alex collected it and smirked. "Fine, but I want the secret spy in the institute in no time.." He ordered and they will bowed gently. "You can leave now.." He dispersed them. He stood up and looked at the plastic bag of bullet and then smirked again. "This bullet is connected to my past. Who's the secret spy and what does he/she know about my past.." He mumbled and took a sip from the glasscup. Suddenly he remembered her. JEANNE! A smile escaped his lips unconsciously.

The fifth night was steeped in the scent of old paper and dust, a quiet reverence that stood in stark contrast to the previous evening’s tempest. The master bedroom had been transformed into a sanctuary of memory, a deliberate rejection of the sterile interrogation room or the chaotic storm. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, carefully borrowed from the library and arranged in a protective semicircle around the bed, created an intimate alcove lit only by the warm, amber glow of a single brass reading lamp. The air was thick with the weight of decades, the silence not empty but saturated with the voices of those who had come before. Julian sat cross-legged on the floor, dressed in a simple linen s

Troy is at very high end expensive boarding school for the gifted in Canada, there he'll be able to receive all the help he can get to help with his trauma and her job as Eros PA pays that and her own lifestyle. She was able to move out of her old apartment and got a studio apartment for herself, As much as she hated the fact that she had to lie and conceal her relationship status and be her real self just to maintain her job ate at her but there was nothing she could do. It was what Eros stated that he wanted 2 years ago. A secretary who looks like a schoolmarm, unattractive and ugly and wouldn't dare to seduce him either... Funny as it seems karma has finally came to bite her ass. It's jus

"What exactly did you hear?" In the faint torchlight, her eyes were dark pools. "Kier Malen has been collecting forbidden texts. Scrolls about dragon ancestry, bloodline experiments—things that were banned after the Purge." A chill ran down my spine. "That's..." "Treason?" Julise finished. "Yes. Which is why he keeps them hidden in a private archive behind his chambers." "How do you know where—" "Because the head chambermaid is sleeping with his valet," she said flatly. "And drunk people share pillow talk."

AVA I stood in the war room we had created in a hidden apartment Sophia helped secure, staring at the wall covered with timelines, documents, and red strings connecting every piece of Julian’s crimes. My hands trembled slightly as I pinned the final piece of evidence…the damning proof of the doctor’s murder Julian had ordered to cover up my miscarriage. This was it. The culmination of years of pain, planning, and sacrifice. “Everything is in place,” Ameera said from behind me, her voice steady but tired. Sophia stood beside her, looking pale but determined.

It was cool and smelled of old paper and dust. The red emergency lights did not reach this far into the back of the house. The only light came from the moon shining through a high, narrow window. Iris pulled out a small flashlight and clicked it on. The beam of light danced over thousands of gold-lettered book spines. According to the map, the secret was not in a computer. It was in the Blackwood history. Her family had been part of the city for a long time, and Julian had always told her that the past held the keys to the future. She began to walk down the long rows of mahogany shelves, her footsteps silent on the thick carpet. She was looking for a specific section: The History of the Nort

"You possess absolutely zero capital. You are simply a loose end." Marcus raised his suppressed weapon, aiming it directly at the center of Liam chest. "Wait!" Liam shrieked, his eyes wide with absolute terror. "I know a secret! Julian has a woman! She built a universal backdoor into the global financial networks! I can tell you exactly who she is! You can rule the world!" In the dark ventilation shaft, Julian entire body went completely rigid. His hand flew to his holstered weapon, fully prepared to kick the grate open and murder Marcus before the traitor could process the information.

Determination and confusion surged through Dez. "After you were turned, did you ever wonder why we are always alone? Why so few of us are allowed to seek out our true mates." He half smiled. Viktor had turned hundreds but Dezmond was his favorite child. "No, this life was always better than the one I left behind. I never wanted a mate." Dez rarely brought up his previous life, it was so painful. Searching for a true mate was strictly forbidden. I was turned after the wars. It is not clear what all happened and how that ties into searching for mates. The history is kept secret.

To look after his pride, I hadn't told him I possessed a manor of several thousand square meters in Narshe, complete with a full staff and bodyguards. I left the manor uninhabited to squeeze into this tiny house with him, living with his parents day in and day out. Originally, I had planned to reveal my identity to him after the wedding. Looking at it now, though, there was no need. With a single phone call, several black business vans pulled up outside the door in less than twenty minutes. My assistant, James, brought my men inside, and they methodically organized my belongings. Clothes, jewelry, documents… each item was packed into boxes.