Man Without Ties Novels & Stories

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.”

He scoffed lightly before he continued “You hate these kinds of things. Too many suits, too many handshakes, too many eyes watching.” “I’m aware,” Alejandro replied, his voice flat. He fastened the final button on his jacket, then reached for the black tie lying across the dresser. “But Hernandez Builders is finally being taken seriously. If I don’t show up, it’ll send the wrong message.” Lorenzo walked closer, taking the tie and beginning to knot it for him. “It still feels like yesterday you were trying to pitch the idea in the middle of that meeting.”

PIPER’S POV The man paused. For one long heartbeat, the entire world held its breath. Then, because my staff were there and because the situation would not favor a fight in broad daylight, the men released Rowan. They pulled back, mocking restraint in their faces. “You’re lucky,” the taller one said, menace coating his words. “This could have been messy.” Alexa laughed, a high, sharp sound. “Messy? For you? Please. I will make him see. You think your paper promises will hold when a man wants to break them?”

Startled, Eranthe stepped back. “What are you doing? Don't do anything reckless.” He merely lifted his hand unhurriedly and smiled. With one motion, he yanked off the dark silk tie around his neck. A soft ripping sound followed as he casually tossed the tie onto the marble floor. “I told you—don't be afraid of me.” Curling his fingers, he moved with unmistakable aggression and undid the top two buttons of his black bespoke dress shirt. His collarbone, veined and defined, was revealed, along with the powerful Adam’s apple that rose and fell wildly.

Always act in a way that your face is never worth remembering. “Alright, well give me a shout if you need anything.” The man walks by and I glance towards the door. Where is he? I'm on edge, there’s no contact for weeks prior to locking in on a target. Why is he even in this city? The door opens after a while, and a man nothing out of the ordinary enters. He’s wearing a cotton jacket over loose pants and a white shirt, a cap on his head and normal boots that any middle-aged man would wear.

His hands roamed—rough, desperate—like a man starved for touch. “Elara,” he groaned against her mouth, her name fractured into hunger. Her nails dug into his skin, pulling him down to her, gasping as the bond pulsed harder with every brush of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth. Her body ached, trembling with need, with the unbearable truth that he was hers. And then—he broke away, chest heaving, eyes blazing gold. “If I claim you now…” His voice was shredded, torn between man and beast. “There’s no turning back. You’ll be mine, bond or not. Forever.”