Logan Phillip Henderson Novels & Stories

"Logan, what else do you have to say for yourself!" Mr. O'neill said to Logan with gleaming eyes as he held up the note. "The truth isn't what it seems. In fact, I wrote this note to help Ms. Henderson..." The only thing Logan could do now was to defend himself now, regardless of whether they believed him.

“I know how they feel.” “Yeah... That for sure.” he said absentmindedly. “Anyway, I came back here to get news about my twins but I already got the answer. I also want to tell you something. Hendrix told me this morning.” he took a deep breath. “His mother, Mrs Martha Logan, the daughter of the Godfather of the Phoenix organization, is dead.”

He grappled the keys and held the door open and when Oscar was short of words, Sofia’s father stepped in. “I think i know where he might be” He announced, instantly capturing all their attentions and Oscar bit into his teeth. “Henderson was my friend once and there was this private property we would go, he’d invite everyone close to us and we’d spend the entire time gambling. No one ever disturbed us because no one knew we were there”

Logan said, leaning back in his chair. “You have no right being here,” Mr. Henderson spat out the words. “On the contrary, I do,” Logan said as he crossed his legs. “By extension of your daughter” “The legalities haven’t been settled. So until it’s settled, you have no business being here,” Mr. Henderson barked. Logan laughed, tilting his head. “For the former, that’s just formalities, but for the latter, that’s where you are wrong.” Logan replied. “What?” Mr. Henderson barked in answer.

taking out five dollars in ones I reach out to hand them to him only for him to shack his head no. "What's your name" he asks catching me off guard, here I thought this Adonis of a man was just going to ignore me while we waited. "Harper, Harper Lewis" I hate my name with a passion, I still to this day have no idea why my mom named me Harper. I reach my hand out for him to shake and ask him what his name is. "Nixon Marsh" he shakes my hand and I feel sparks as if he was electrically charged and I pull my hand away quickly.

This contract symbolized my twisted entanglement with Logan’s world. “Must be nice,” Mr. Henderson started, a snide edge to his voice, “to have friends in high places, ensuring your return. It's quite the... luxury.” Before I could respond, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Logan’s demeanor shifted from casual indifference to menacing in a split second. His piercing eyes locked onto Mr. Henderson’s, a silent warning in their depths. The older man paled, his words sticking in his throat. The weight of that gaze, that silent promise of retribution, held him captive. After what felt like an eternity, Logan simply raised an eyebrow, and it was enough to ensure Mr. Hende

Woody replied, "Half of your assets is the medical fee for personal treatment." Logan felt that it was unnecessary for him to talk of such things, and it made him feel out of character. It seemed like he needed to get an assistant to deal with this. Then, Logan raised his voice and said in surprise, "Mr. Henderson, are you joking?" "What did I say that sounded like a joke?" Woody asked. Logan's expression darkened. "It was understandable if Kevin said such things! But for you to say that, it's a little bit too much, isn't it?

Jason said. "Okay, okay, okay." President Henderson nodded respectfully and left, almost stepping back. Jason ignored him. Over the years, he often saw some people like this. He usually didn't want to talk to them. Sometimes, he had to have small talk with them because of Madison. "Who was that young man just now?" Jason came to Jodie and her mother and asked with a smile. "President Henderson, the president of Henderson Group." Jodie's mother said with a smile.

“As you well know, Logan Henderson was estimated by Forbes to be the richest man in New York. “He was the sole owner of Apex, the highest grossing furniture company in the country, a house in Manhattan, this one, one in Connecticut, one in the Bahamas, a private island, and seven other houses overseas, as well as a dabble of businesses here and there. His words; to my lovely wife, the love of my life. You’ve stuck around this old bore all his life. To you, I give our house, you’ve always made it a home – cold and bitter sometimes, but a home nonetheless. Our Manhattan home, and an income of a million dollars each month. To Hailey, Daddy’s spoilt little princess. Of course, I leave you the ho

When Don saw Phelan, his eyes burned with hate. He bellowed—a sound that was somewhere between a yell, a moo, and a really loud belch. “Hey, Phelan,” She then shouted back. “Didn't I kill you already?” He pounded his fist into the dress she wore, and it crumpled like aluminum foil. A few dracaenae threw flaming javelins at her. She knocked them aside. A hellhound lunged, and she sidestepped. She could have stabbed it, but She hesitated. “This is not Mrs. O'Leary”, Don said to himself. This is an untamed wolf. It will kill me and all my friends.