Liv Morgan Age Novels & Stories

The music wasn't bad, but Morgan would have preferred something with more of a country twang. He sipped his bourbon, thinking the background music was going to put people to sleep before they could sign their checks. Ah well, what did he know about business tactics and fundraising. He was a contractor. He knew nails and two-by-fours, not how to persuade people out of their money. Lily Anderson walked by on her way over to Jacqui and Morgan stopped lifting his glass to his lips as he watched her pass. I'm much better at talking women out of their skirts. I'll stick to what I know best.

I lied quickly, forcing a bright, fake smile, "Just hoping my luck holds out. I’m going to go help Mama D with the inventory in the back." In the corner, Morgan was vibrating. She was the baby of our group, barely eighteen. Her straight, jet-black hair was pulled into a high, sleek ponytail, and she kept tugging at the hem of her tight dress. She looked like she was about to go to her first prom, except the prom was a high event gala or something with men twice her age. "Are they... are they going to come here?" Morgan asked, "The Capones?" I softened, reaching over to pat her hand, "No. They stay in their castles. This place is too 'low-rent' for them."

I knew that face. I had seen it in photographs. In the framed print that sat on the credenza in Lucian's Miami office, the one he never referenced and never removed. An older architecture of the same jaw, the same gray eyes, the same quality of stillness that read as calm and meant something entirely different. Silas Morgan. Dead for ten years. Buried in a memorial service in Geneva after a private plane went down over the Atlantic with no survivors and no wreckage ever recovered.

"Uncle Morgan isn't a guest. He's always visiting, he practically lives here," Morgan would have blushed if he wasn't a thirty-six-year-old grown-ass man who had seen a lot of terrible things in his lifetime. He was bald but quite handsome with his sea-blue eyes and muscular physique. As a child, Tiana had thought he looked like some gangster and always ran away whenever he showed up. These days, however, she found herself staring at his impressive arms longer than usual, or that V on his taut stomach anytime he raised his shirt. "True that," Morgan mumbled, tearing his gaze away from his niece's hot body trying to calm his cock down. It was hard to do that.

"Ouch... Don't be naughty, Altair; the cake might fall." SLAM! The door to the room was wide open there. "Surprise!" Morgan was still there, nailing as he watched the balloons hanging from the ceiling of his room. There's a picture of him, Jessica and Altair. What is this? What surprise? "Happy birthday." Jessica approached and brought Morgan a birthday cake. Morgan took Altair from Jessica's arms and held him. Birthday? Morgan just remembered that he is now 36 years old. "I was panicking about not finding anyone at home." Morgan also took Jessica into his warm embrace and kissed the forehead and top of his wife's head.

"I'm Eli connors, I'm 22, you also can call me E." Damn, he is so fine, I would so love to hit him up. Omg what am I thinking? "I'm jace Morgan, I'm 18, I'm also the youngest, you can call me jay." Nicee but I wouldn't date somebody who is 2 years younger than me, maybe who knows? "I'm Nathan Morgan, I'm 21 years old. You can call me Nate." Ooh la laaa he is one hot brother. Then the girl speaks up

Morgan and May arrived a little after four in the afternoon, and Jessica and Terry had already tidied up the rooms they had previously stayed in. There are a total of two rooms, one that Jessica used to live in and one on the side of the yard. Four people were just enough to live in. As soon as Morgan and May entered the room, they saw the wooden coffin placed in the middle of the hall and both of them felt a bit nostalgic. Morgan turned fifty this year, the age of destiny, and increasingly felt that he was no longer young. His energy and physical strength were not as good as before.

Ash's POV Morgan stood in my office trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Her confession hung in the air between us and I could see the terror in her young eyes. Part of me wanted to be angry. This child had deceived us and gotten close to my son under pretenses and put Ross in danger. But she was just twelve years old. A kid caught in her father's twisted obsession with revenge. "Please don't hurt me," Morgan whispered. "I know what I did was wrong but I could not go through with it."

Samuel must be a big boy by now, and if he was street-wise like the other young lads, he would be commanding money and power by now. Heck, his son might even be a drug baron and a mafia by now, after all, it has been years. That imagination alone fueled Morgan’s hope to persevere. If he came out of this alive, he would return to his son and enjoy the privileges of a freaking dad. Morgan did not think much of his daughter. He could not even remember her name. She was such a little girl when he left them…always whining and crying and seeking to be touched and cuddled and lifted. Morgan had hated her. Generally, Morgan had hated women.

Chapter 1 When I arrived at the villa entrance, it was already evening. The alarm went off right on time, with a reminder: celebrate Levi's birthday. Two weeks ago, my husband Levi Morgan brought our daughter to attend a summer camp abroad. I originally wanted to come along, but Levi said there were things at the company I needed to handle, so I had to give up the idea. Levi was the only son of the Morgan family, spoiled since childhood. For his birthday, he never appreciated any gift I gave him.