Mike Hanlon It Novels & Stories

It was a long night at the office for Mr. Hill Hamilton, a handsome billionaire with dark brown hair and almond eyes. He had a powerful presence that commanded respect. “Alright Mike, see you tommorow.” Mr. Hill said as he headed towards his bently. He was done for the night but Mike didn’t think so. Mike was next in command at Mr. Hill’s company, he was the COO and Mr. Hill’s very good friend. “Come on Hill, are you really gonna spend the night alone again?” Mike asked with furrowed brows.

“Security flagged a hospital on your alert grid—from last quarter. Want it addressed?” “Queue the calls. I want eyes everywhere but my family’s doorstep.” She nodded, silent. We moved together into my office—glass, steel, and a desk carved from centuries of deals. Here, power lived; here, threats were measured and weighed. The inner sanctum was disturbed by Hanlon’s entrance—no knock, no apology. His umbrella dripped in the hands of my assistant. Dominic Hanlon: the rival, the predator, the pain in my neck since I outmaneuvered him five years ago.