Miltonian Milton Novels & Stories

Time seemed to crawl by until finally, a man approached us, introducing himself as Milton. “Hello, I’m Milton,” he said, his voice tinged with warmth. “I serve as the right-hand man to our leader.” Relief flooded through me as I realized we were finally getting somewhere. “Nice to meet you, Milton,” I replied, extending my hand. “I’m Ricky, and these are my brothers, Jules and Cole.” Milton shook my hand firmly before turning his attention to our reason for being there. I explained to him about our quest for the rare herb and the urgency of our situation. To my surprise, Milton nodded understandingly, his expression thoughtful.

Milton laughed and said, "Damn it. You're still so stubborn when you're about to die. I'll kill you all right now." "Wow. You truly have no regard for the law at all, huh? This is murder you're talking about," Wilbur said. Milton snorted coldly, "This is my territory. Killing you guys is just like killing ants. Do you think anyone will get themselves in trouble for killing ants like you?" "Interesting. So, you're the one calling the shots in Harvest County?" Faron pretended to ask. Milton suddenly became wary and looked at Faron, Wilbur, and Nicholas.

Milton was that bastard's name, and from their conversation, it seemed like he was Monet's right hand. A hiss left my lips as those ropes bit my skin due to my tugging at the knots on my hand. My hands were tied on the armrests of the wooden chair. "I swear, you guys are going to repent! My people will find me soon and then I will see what your dear boss does." I glared at them. While Zion stayed calm, rage flashed through Milton's eyes. "His dream to take revenge on us will never come true!" "Be quiet!" Milton snapped. "Shut your mouth or I know how to do it!"

“Is he drunk?” “How dare he interrupt His Majesty…” “That’s not right, Milton was always a careful person and won’t be that brash…” Milton knelt on the floor under the crowd’s confusion as he wiped the cold sweat off his forehead before saying in fear and respect to the New World Emperor, “Your Majesty, forgive me. I have an important matter to report to you!” Milton then pointed at Darryl and loudly said, “Luca Moonlight, is already the South Cloud World’s Prince Consort. You cannot also appoint him as your Prince Consort…”

It’s fair to say Milton’s happiness could be felt even from miles away. Milton casually picked up a drink and raised it in the air toward the couple, whose expressions were now distorted with confusion and dread. "A toast to the new couple—congratulations to you." He raised the drink to his lips but suddenly paused, as if he had just remembered something important. Milton tucked a hand into his trouser pocket and chuckled. “Right. I raise a toast to myself. Congratulations to me. Turns out our Arnoult family is celebrating two happy events today,” he cheerfully announced.

she asked. "Humor me?" I said, getting more comfortable. "The story is on how club 'Milton' got its name. There once were a pair of sisters, twins. These two daughters were of noble birth but…well like most noble families after the House Rorei purge, the two sisters found themselves homeless." -Ahh…shit.- I turned my gaze outside.

But the man restrains the animal, recognising that pursuit would only drive her further away. "You've ruined everything," he growls at Peter, rounding on his friend with barely contained fury. "I was getting through to her." Peter steps back, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Was that what you were doing? Because from where I stood, it looked like you were making promises you can't keep." "You don't know what I can and cannot do," Milton snarls, stepping closer until they're nearly chest to chest. The moonlight catches the dangerous gleam in his eyes, more wolf than man in this moment. "And you certainly don't know what's in my heart."

Even McKenzie held her breath. “I have a young man here who says his name is Will Materson the Third. And he’s got quite a—did I stutter? I don’t remember stuttering. Yes, Will Masterson the Third. Yeah, no shit he’s got a price on his head. Of course, Milton’s okay. You don’t think I’d risk our son’s life on purpose, do you?” she went on. Shep cringed when his mother said ‘Milton,’ and I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek not to laugh at his predicament. If I’d been named Milton, I might have chosen Shep instead, too.

] Under the warm, cozy lights of the trendy restaurant, Milton, dressed in a black shirt and beige pants, was chatting with a woman. [That's him. I want a picture of her face.] The woman's photo came in shortly after. I only glanced at it, but it felt familiar, like I'd seen her somewhere before. At this point, the task was technically over. But the courier, more outraged than I was, sent me over ten more photos all at once. There were shots of Milton flirting with the woman, of him fixing her hair, and even one where she leaned in to kiss him... [Miss, you don't have to pay extra. It's everyone's responsibility to fight against immoral behavior. Oh, and I overheard them talking about a hous

Ariadne’s eyes were glazed over until a familiar name caught her attention. "Milton Group..." Her heart skipped a beat as she straightened in her seat, gripping the remote tighter. The screen cut to footage of the Milton Group's towering headquarters, followed by an image of Gideon Milton, standing confidently behind a podium. The anchor’s voice continued, clear and unyielding: