Leonard Burns Novels & Stories

The faint scar near his temple only made him look harder. “Damon,” my father continued. “Security strategist. He coordinates everything.” Damon was slightly taller than the others, with sharp cheekbones and a stillness that felt calculated. When he looked at me, it was like he was already mapping every exit in the house. “Leonard. Former intelligence. He notices things other people miss.” Leonard’s mouth twitched as if he was trying not to smile. His gaze was quicker than the others, taking in my face, my clothes, the way I was standing.

He wants to invite Guillermo to Amberwood to talk about the tobacco plantation. … The next morning, Leonard went on his way back to the city. He met with gena at the Flavell’s building to inform her of Rio’s decision. Gena was relieved to see Leonard again after a very long time. Now she can at least have a vacation to treat herself after all the pressure in her job as the acting CEO. Leonard transferred a good amount of money to her account as a reward for her hard work. He then went to Triflers. The establishment was long closed after that incident.

“So you're still choosing them over the family that raised you?” “I am choosing the family that came from me and that's the right thing to do.” “Are you forgetting who you are?” my father yells. “I know exactly who I am.” “I don't think so. You're a Leighton. Stop acting like a lovesick fool.” “And what does being a Leighton demand?” “It means being loyal to the family name and protecting everything we built from those who try to leech on us and destroy us.” I nod. “I see.” I move closer to my father. “Does protecting our legacy also involve laundering money?”

"I'd love to hear more about what you're passionate about. What drives you. What keeps you up at night." "I'm interested in investigative journalism. Uncovering the truth, exposing corruption—" "How noble." He replied with a smile and his hand moved to my shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Beautiful and principled. You're quite remarkable." I heard Damian's fork scrape against his plate. Cole didn't seem to notice. He kept touching me; my hand, my arm, my shoulder, each contact lingering too long. His smile never wavered. Neither did his attention. "Tell me," he said, caressing the back of my hand with his thumb, "what made you choose journalism? Was it…"

June 27, 1996, THE GUEVARA’s Holding. “How can you tell me we lost to Ronald Huston?! Why the hell did you about the investors!” Leonard snapped at Theo smith, his personal assistant. Leonard ran his hand through his hair, frustration sets in, “Have you suddenly lost your tongue? Didn’t I warned you about this?” Leonard yelled. “I’m..I’m sorry, I thought I could double the profit shares higher than the Guevara. I’m sorry sire,” Theo apologized immediately—he’s on his knees.

A deep gash ran along his brow, stitched carefully by the attending doctor, but Damion barely noticed the pain. Pain didn’t matter. Not when Carmela was gone. Across the room, Leonard lay on another hospital bed, his arm immobilized in a sling. His face was battered, but he was alive. He had taken the brunt of the explosion’s force—Damion could still see the burns on his exposed skin, the way his breathing was a little more labored than usual. Yet, neither of them had said much since they arrived at the hospital. What was there to say?

A joke. One day, maybe one day, she would let Lola know that she’d meant those words she’d treated as a joke today, but for now, she had to clear out the weeds and take them out from the roots. * * * “Now don’t you shoot yourself in the foot, my proud friend? There’s still more time left.” Grandfather Sanchez cautioned Old Boyd who had rang him up via video chat to taunt him. The man was persistent and Lazarus Sanchez started to get more irritated. The door to his bedroom opened and Mr Henry walked in and bowed.

I whispered. Adrian sat beside me, pulling my feet into his lap. “Then we start editing.” “You think this can be fixed?” “I think,” he said, “you are not a headline. And you sure as hell are not the villain.” Elena gave my hand a squeeze. “You’re Aria freaking Laurent. The girl who turned heartbreak into sugar, who came back from the dead with a bakery empire and a closet full of linen. Vivienne can posture all she wants. But you? You’re the story people remember.”

The betrayal, the rejection, how Alpha Kyler sold me as though I was some sack of potatoes. Leonard cleared his throat as soon as he saw me. His smile was as irritating as it had always been. “Lena,” he said smoothly. “Such beautiful and glowing skin you have.” “I have a wonderful report for Alpha Damian.” My chest rose with anger. Such audacity! “What are you doing here, Leonard?” “What do you want?” Leonard was Damien's most trusted gamma warrior and also his assistant. He held his hands up like I was overreacting. “Relax. I’m not here to fight with you.”

He would finally be able to prove himself, not just to the council but to his family. Councilman Winston Burns was the fifth son of the Supreme Alpha liaison, Lionnel Burns. The Supreme Alpha Conway Van Wolf, liaison, had extraordinary power and status. Through these contacts, Burns acquired a position within the council. The role was initially meant to go to his brother, the fourth son, Phillip; however, due to a tragic hunting accident, Phillip died. Burns received the role by default, but he was determined to prove to his father that he could contribute to the family's status and power. He wasn’t some ornate figurehead for them, but a real contributor. He refused to be the weak link in th