Mister Stark Novels & Stories

"I'm the dark lord," Vador replied with a sly smile and this is Aleister," he said pointing to Alei. "The dark lord," Ava laughed which only irritated the lord. "Be quiet," he ordered in disgust "You think I'm a joke?"He asked removing his mask from his face. "You think I'm one too? For all I know you're just the guy dressed in a dark hoodie pretending to be badass. You just turned my brother's body into ashes, you rotten bastard.

Stan assured. There's one thing I know about Stark, and that was the fact that he wouldn't dare to make problems on a very important occasion such as this. I waited patiently for Stark and Alan, who cake all the way to where I sat. I signaled for an extra seat to be provided for both mortal enemies of mine. Not only that, I saw another man among then, especially next Stark. Though I've not met him before, from the pictures shown to me while I was investigating Stark, it turns out that he was Alpha Tristan.

Who the hell am I? Talia (online) — A married woman, no children. I play for just over a month every day, usually in the morning. But lately... I’m playing at night. RLC has become my big distraction to my loneliness... Now enough about me, who is Mr. X? Mr. X is typing... Mr. X is typing... Mr. X is typing... Mr. X seems to be typing infinitely, or it was just my anxiety to know more about him...

“To whom?” “To those bastards who brought me here,” Svetlana blurted, then paused, as if some hidden realization dawned on her. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him more closely. “Dio mio…” she whispered, lifting a trembling hand to her lips. “You’re one of them.” Dante tilted his head, his expression unreadable—somewhere between amusement and indifference. “That expensive suit, that smug attitude…” she went on, pointing at him as if she’d uncovered something monstrous. “You must be one of the capo’s men.”

We were sitting in her room catching up, we hadn't seen each other in two weeks. "Yeah, he should be here soon." Mia replies. Diego Garcia is our other best friend, Mia, Diego, and I have been inseparable since we were seven years old. Suddenly, the door opened, "I've arrived," Diego shouts. He always does this. He's a very dramatic person. Diego Garcia is a hacker for our mafia, along with Mia, much like me, Diego and Mia never go on missions. We mostly work from our warehouses. "Stop screaming, Diego." I scold him jokingly.

“I don’t want to see those assholes in there again, including everybody that works here. Deal with them.” A whole lot of questions flood my head as I make my way to my car and drive off. Who dares to cross me? But, then again, mafia business hasn’t been one made known to the public. Except the police. To the public’s eye, I am the CEO and elite billionaire of the Stark company. I grab my phone and dial his number. If anything, he can help trace who is behind this. “Dravik.” His similarly cold tone conveys my last name over the phone. “What is it?” he inquires, tone bored.

Mr Stark said. This was no surprise to anyone. Mr Stark has always been like this. His money before anything else. Have i mentioned how much i hate this man? If i haven't then now i have. He just executes everything the way it will be of benefit to him and himself alone. He never thinks about his people. The mere sight of such a selfish person irritates me. He is also very rude. It's kind of a surprise to me he even greeted us. "Note that nobody will be given a day of for any reason at all." Mr Stark added.

The air around our small table didn’t just grow cold; it became a vacuum, sucking all the sound from the cozy coffee shop. His grey eyes, which usually held a glint of malicious amusement, turned flat and dead, like chips of frosted granite. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe. He just stared at me, and in that stare, I saw the true man—the one without the charming, wolfish facade. A man who could dismantle empires and ruin lives without a flicker of emotion. Why was he so angry? I wasn’t sure, but he was fuming. “That,” he said, his voice a low, quiet rasp that held no warmth, no mockery, only a promise of something dark, “is a very dangerous assumption to make, Miss Carter.”

Sheraton Group of Companies had grown over the years to surpass even the companies it had come to meet, SkyNet being one of them. His name was Edmund Hamilton, the billionaire's only son and heir. He had a face that looked like it was carved by angels and a body that looked like it was sculpted by a god. She knew that much because she read his section on the tabloid every week and as she did so, she fantasised about being with him. But she knew it was a pipe dream.

Ruth said a sudden bout of excitement taking over her as she pushed Ruth's hands off her phone and shoved a picture of a dark, muscular man in Christine's face. He did look cute but he looked like a thug and that was not a company Christine approved of. He reminded Christine of Michael and she had her suspicions on why he was getting Ruth so excited. Ruth had always said she did not have a type and she liked men who were willing to do bad things, an analogy she always ended with a giggle but at this point, Christine realized that her friend did have a type and that type was Michael. Ruth seemed to be obsessed with him and she did not even want to know why.