Killian Jones Novels & Stories

Killian appeared in the kitchen, looking handsome in his navy suit and slightly frazzled from his morning of helping various children get ready. "Liam finally agreed to the dress shoes," he announced. "Though he negotiated for the right to change into sneakers for the reception dancing." "That seems fair," Bella said, straightening his tie. At fifty-five, Killian had silver threading through his dark hair and laugh lines around his eyes that spoke of decades of joy and laughter. His construction business had grown into one of the most respected in the region, and he had recently started mentoring young contractors, passing on not just technical skills but the integrity and work ethic that ha

Killian Miles was a resident of the complex. A few days earlier, he had risked going out to find his cousin, who worked on a construction crew. For what purpose? To blow up Ray's villa, eliminate Ray, and take his place. It was a two-pronged plan. First, lure Ray out of the villa and kill him. Second, if that failed, blow the villa apart directly. But when Killian returned to the complex, he found that it had become a city of the dead.

I was quick to interrupt my father. “—that guy! Why me? I don’t know him! Why not Lilian?” I countered back angrily. “Lilian is your cousin and you are my daughter. This has to be you or no one else. Sapphire, you have to do this. There is no option. We need the company. We have worked so hard for it—“ Mason Ronaldo, my father, continued his speech not taking measures of how his words were like a acid to ears and burn to my heart.

I was no longer trapped in that room but now in an open field where all my enemies were formed in a line and I could do what i wanted to them. “What do you have?” I ask, already planning what I’m going to do to them. They would wish for death by the time I’m done with them. “The mercenaries that were hired. One of my guys was part of the team, but he pulled out when he realized you were the target.” Killian grew up in the streets before he was adopted by a rich family. So he knew every class of people and mostly the dirty ones. “Does he know the other people on the team?” I’d almost forgotten Claude was there until he spoke. “Or if he can recognize them.”

I felt the power in my calves as I launched into a roundhouse kick, the impact vibrating through my entire frame. "Your form is slightly off on the follow-through." I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. I dropped into a defensive crouch, my fists up, my wolf snarling at the surface. Killian was leaning against a tree. He had shed his formal jacket, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle and etched with dark tattoos. He looked less like a prince now and more like a predator who had found his favorite hunting ground.

I became restless as I spoke, almost forgetting about the cameras in my room. “Celine, can you please relax? It’s so obvious I’m saying things to you right now. You keep shaking.” He uttered, letting out an obviously fake grin. “I’m sorry, but I can’t act like this isn’t shocking, okay? Kilhan is alive! Kendrick still has a father. What else could I possibly ask for? Please tell me, does he want to talk to me?” I asked eagerly, and he nodded. “I guess your father tried to put up all these acts just so you can forget about going back to him. And he did say something.”

He wore joggers and a hoodie, looking like he'd been running. "Killian? What are you doing here?" "I run through here every Saturday." His eyes moved to Zane. "Didn't expect to see you two together." "We're not together," Avelina said quickly. "He's just—we're just—" "Spending time with our son," Zane finished, standing up. He was taller than Killian by an inch. "What are you doing here, really?" "I told you. Running." Killian smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Nice to see you playing dad, though. That's new."

They pause and give each other looks. "So we just killed the leader of the obsidian mafia, and his only heir is right here." Says scary guy. "Not exactly... Nara who is his son?" "Killian ... He was adopted from Venezuela at ten years old. He's twenty right now." His son. My adopted cousin. The day I left our estate Killian was seeing it for the first time. We exchanged one glance, looking into each other's eyes. He watched our car drive away. We were two naive, young souls. Not aware of the horrid things I was separated from, or the horrid things he was just brought into.

Ricochet proceeded with the announcements, “we have Mad Dog, the President of the Hellhounds Motorcycle Club.” Raucous cheers erupted through the underground arena and charged the air. The bloodthirsty crowd all wanted to see some guts spilled, no matter whose they were. “And in the left corner, from the mountain range of Forest Hills, we have the son of Razor, and member of the Roughnecks Motorcycle Club, Kian Jones!” The name didn’t seem to fit the raging demon inside me. It felt as if Kian Jones was some guy I knew from another lifetime.

~Introduction to the Male lead~ Name: Zion Black Knight. Age: 19 years. Lives in: Manchester. A British national. Height: 6.1ft, Fair skin, black eye. He is a high schooler. He is somebody that can't be restrained or tamed. The child of world's best and richest businessman, Andrew Black Knight. The one who brought the renovation in the entire IT industry. He is rich, handsome and intelligent with a photographic memory. Perfect in every way.