Mha Rody Novels & Stories

Andrew said, enthusiastic about the fight. "Good evening. Welcome to The Patio at Rudy's. My name is Raine, I will be your server this evening. Can I start you guys off with a drink and appetizers?" the young girl with black hair and beautiful tanned skin, full lips, and hourglass body features says, holding menus and handing the, out to us. "Yes, can I have a glass of Chardonnay?" Phoebe says. "I'll have a beer." uncle Fred orders.

FERRIS' POV I rubbed my temple, trying to ignore the mounting frustration as Alpha Pretel Rodriguez—better known as Alpha Rod—stared back at me. His arms were crossed and his jaw was set in a stubborn expression. The old Alpha’s graying hair, thick beard, and stubborm face made him look as immovable as the mountains that held his iron ore. I’d come into this meeting hopeful, ready to strike a mutually beneficial deal, but Rod had been more difficult than I expected.

He was trying to sound calm, but the gritty growl at the back of his throat gave another message. “Mason challenged Roderick for the Alpha position” I whispered out, glancing at the two red wolves in the centre of the clearing. Roderick was watching Brody and I carefully, but Mason was observing Roderick cautiously as he was worried he was going to jump him suddenly and catch him off guard.

He said casually. “Madeline would accept anyone's presence as long as it is not us and it is not any other man that she's going to break the heart of and be called for it.” I said, looking at him over my shoulder. I took a step back and put the glass back on the table, knowing that taking another one was not going to do me any good. “Keep me updated with what is going to happen. I want the men to be ready at all times, and I want this to be settled. The second rogue walks inside.” “Yes, Alpha.”

“Just a friendly observation, Aleksei. After all, alliances are fragile things, aren’t they? One wrong move and everything crumbles.” "True that." I replied coolly. “Alliances only crumble when the weak can’t hold their end of the bargain. Are you worried about yours, Hardin?” The room felt like it had shrunk, the tension between us thick enough to cut through paper. Hardin's smile never wavered, but I could see the slight tick in his jaw. Before he could respond, the door opened, and Mikhail stepped in, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. “Apologies for the interruption,” he said, his voice low. “But we have an issue that requires your attention.”

When it sank in that she was the one behind the paper causing such a commotion in the AI world, Rodney stood up in surprise and walked over to her, offering a handshake and greeting her politely. "Hello, Ms. Rodriguez. I'm Rodney Milford from Yardley University. My research over the years has focused on fundamental AI theory and applied development. It's a pleasure to meet you." Celeste also stood and shook his hand, replying, "Hello, Professor Milford. You're too kind. It's an honor to meet you." Rodney's humility and courtesy were evident—so much so that anyone watching might've assumed he was the junior and Celeste the senior.

The man quickly changed his tone into a softer one as he reached his hand to grab Rose's hand but she quickly avoided his touch. “Ha, I see you're a bit wary because I haven't introduced myself, beautiful lady. “My name is Rey Mason, the general manager of HYL entertainment industry. I'm sure you've heard a lot about me?” The man introduced himself, stumbling a bit. He was obviously drunk and wasted. Rose's frown deepened as she watched him. “I have never heard of that name before, excuse me.” She said as she was about to walk away but he quickly blocked the road with his hand.

"I am Heather Daniels. I'm here to discuss an important contract—" Before she could finish, a hoarse, thick baritone voice interrupted from the shadows. "Who dares address me without proper introduction?" Heather turned cold when she finally saw Eamon Rodge, who was not the elderly man she had imagined. Instead, a very young man with a dark aura sat on a stool near a wine cellar section, not far from the entrance. He wore dark lenses and held a walking cane, his presence exuding an unsettling mixture of charm and menace. "Mr. Rodge?" Heather stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Next, he flew from the building, bursting through the roof with his large wings. "Tammy!!". Rhea's voice filtered into my ears. As a result of being tied to the chair, I couldn't look around to find her. She ran into the room, dressed in a nun uniform, holding a gun. "Oh my God! Are you okay?" She asked, voice breaking with concern as tears sprang to her eyes. She rushed to me and flung the tubes from my arms. Thereafter, she moved on to untie me but then, Mrs. Hernandez who had been lying dead on the floor rose, flinging her off me.

“After everything we’ve been through, don’t you think we’ve earned nickname privileges? Dyssy? You can give me one too—Dev, Vin... Big D?” “He does have a big one,” Ma says to Meredith. Rowen and I both groan, hands flying to our ears. “Ma!” Rowen complains. “Still not over that hotel in Hawaii with the paper-thin walls.” Laughter erupts around us—Summer, Jared, even Meredith—everyone but Odysseus, who looks completely lost. “I don’t understand,” he says, confused. Pop, ever the opportunist, opens his mouth—“It means I have a big—”