Man Without Ties Mga Nobela at Kwento

The velvet rope was unhooked without a word A man sat on the couch inside the cordoned area, a huge cigar resting between two fingers, a glass of something deeply expensive in his other hand. He looked like he was in his early thirties — lean with blond hair that caught the red light in a way that made it look almost copper, blue eyes that were sharp and amused, already assessing me before I’d fully stepped into the place. He wore his wealth easy, like a second skin—unbuttoned shirt opened all the way to the bottom of his sternum , no tie, sleeves rolled up to show forearms with veins. “Donovan!” He yelled, standing up from his chair to hug him. “So good to see you. Wow, you never stop with

His sleeves rolled up. His tie…missing.

I locked the door, heart hammering hard enough to crack ribs. No time to calm down. I dove under the covers and pulled up my phone. On Mischief & Mayhem, the post had gone nuclear. OP had updated with a photo that reeked of despair. That priceless tie had been brutally knotted into a massive lump, cinched just below the man's Adam's apple. The knot was so tight it had warped the shirt collar, making him look like a survivor who'd just escaped an execution.

Not bothering to even look at them again, he roared, "Now, get out! I bought this place because it was previously occupied by the top scorer. It's supposed to bring us good luck. I don't want your bad energy here! Get out, right now!" With that, he shoved the couple out the door and slammed the door shut behind them with a loud bang. The sound of the door locking echoed before the hallway fell completely silent. Mom leaned against the wall, her vision swimming. The only things running through her head were the phrases "one million dollars" and "Jethroville's top scorer". "Earl, do you think that man was telling the truth? But how can Kathleen be Jethroville's top scorer? Her grades were so a

Beside him walked a man I had never seen before. Tall. Commanding. He wasn’t just handsome — he was polished. White shirt so crisp it could cut glass, No tie. One button undone. Casual, yet impossibly dominant. His hair was dark, swept back like it had been told exactly where to stay and actually listened. His jawline… well, let’s just say he could have sold it to a sculptor. Not that he was my taste. Too… pristine. The type who probably spent more time on his reflection than on real conversation.

] His reply was instant. [I’m busy.] And that was it. No follow-up. No concern. Just like every other time Caleb had gotten himself into a mess, William had no interest in dealing with it. Fine. If he wasn’t going, then neither was I.

Even at his worst, he maintained an air of sharpness, an effortless control that kept people at arm’s length. But now? Now, he was a mess. His usually neat hair was in complete disarray, unruly strands falling into his eyes. His clothes—a thin, loose innerwear set—hung off him in a way that exposed more skin than was appropriate for my sanity. The collar of his shirt had slipped off his shoulder, revealing a stretch of pale skin, the curve of his collarbone catching the light. My eyes dragged lower, tracing the way his shirt clung to his lean frame, hinting at the heat of his bare skin beneath.

Mason growled. My legs buckled in relief as Mason stepped between me and the man. His posture was rigid, his fists clenched at his sides. The air around him practically vibrated with restrained rage. The drunk man staggered to his feet, sneering. “What’s it to you? She wanted it.” Mason didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. His fist connected with the man’s jaw with a sickening crack, sending him crashing back to the ground. “Get out,” Mason growled, his voice low and deadly. “Before I do something worse.”

"Is she connected to him?" "Hmmm. . I'm not sure. It's kind of hard to tell," The first said. "She’s not acting like someone with personal ties. They don't hang around. There was no form of chitchat whatsoever. She just comes in, talks to the crew, and leaves." The driver scratched his jaw. "Maybe it's just business ties." "You're right but it could also be something else," His colleague replied. "The boss wants to know if she’s close to Alejandro. So far? It doesn’t look like it."