Montgomery Scott Novelas e Histórias

Kylie thought inwardly as she ate. "Hmm. So good" Kylie said as she raised her left thumb up giving him a thumbs up. He nodded proudly. "Of course. I'm Scott Anderson,the great" He said proudly without blinking. "Uh...the great? As if! You're not Zeus or any other god" Kylie scoffed as she ate. "I might not be Zeus or a god but I'm a demi god" Scott said so seriously and convincing. Even Kylie was on the verge of believing he really is a demi god.

She read the plaque that revealed it was a kukri, gifted from the Nepalese to a Sgt Maddox. Sgt Maddox? She frowned at the name. It was a common name, right? She glanced over at the picture on the wall, a group of brawny uniformed men stared back at her, their faces beaming with pride. She traced her finger over the names at the bottom of the picture, finding the same name. Only this time, it was slightly different, the label read Sgt Zachary Maddox. She followed the position of names, matching it up to Archer’s face. Cara ran to the next picture she found down the hallway, a single photo of him stood to attention in his uniform, the badge on his chest read ‘Maddox’.

Scott is: - 43 years old - 6'5 - Half Australian, 1/4 Filipino, 1/4 Chinese - Unmarried - Mestizo - Entrepreneur Monte meticulously studied Mr. Scott based on the gathered data. He aims to be well-prepared for all potential investors interested in their business. Understanding their lives helps him navigate conversations and pinpoint topics that will capture their interest, as some investors choose to invest when they see genuine engagement, regardless of the subject matter, as long as it remains respectful. Wearing a simple knee-length blue dress, the fabric gracefully hugging her body, she exuded elegance. Her heels were pointed, and her makeup was understated. She walked towards their res

He was only here to toy with some woman, but he got his head cracked open instead! Drogo, who was still on the ground, smiled darkly. “Brother Theo, don’t blame me for not reminding you that Mr. Scott is not someone you can offend. Even if you’re very influential within Riverdale, Mr. Scott is from Golden City. Before him, you’re nothing!” Mr. Scott? From Golden City? Theo frowned slightly. His foot pressed down harder as he glanced at the man standing above the stairs.

He slumped back to the couch meditating on his words and the effect. On the bright side, Antony was semi out of danger. He could still for, but if he manages to survive, I won't be able to speak with him for weeks, or maybe months? He chuckled and ran his hands through his head, lowered it and shook vehemently. Not good. "Mr Scott ?" He raised his head. "And you are?" "I'm agent Michael, FBI." He introduced. Mr Scott rose up from the chair to shake his head. "I think we need to talk. I might have something that could interest us both."

Thank the Moon Goddess I didn't stay around to find or what he wanted. "What about this evening?" I ask. Instantly, it's as if I've pushed a button labeled don't touch. He stiffens, his gaze growing cold and rigid. "I don't think that's going to work," he says softly. The way he speaks the words, it's as if he's in pain, like he's fighting off an inner demon. "Maybe tomorrow, I'll be over this drug, and we can go," I say nervously, hoping I was pushing to far. I had accepted his offer as a way to continue my mission to take over an Alphas position, and achieve the goal of democracy throughout the Packs.

“Somehow Scott’s tied into this thing besides being your lawyer.” I sighed. “Do you think he could also be working for Bonner?” “Nothing would surprise me about Scott. What do we know about him?” “We know he’s my attorney and that he graduated from Wake Forest Law School.” “And he once told me he was raised in an orphanage.” “But the article said that the McGillikin raised at that orphanage died in a wreck.” “And he doesn’t look like the man in the photo, either.” The computer dinged and a message appeared on the screen. New mail has arrived. Would you like to read it now?

If Jamie wanted to hide something, whatever surfaced would be exactly what he wanted others to see. … Shayla's death anniversary was approaching. Every year, Scott would fly to Amstern City in advance to lay a bouquet of flowers for her. No matter how much he resented her for abandoning him and his brothers, she was still his mother. This day, after placing the flowers, Scott was about to leave when a frail, elderly voice called from behind. "You… Are you Scott?" Scott turned and saw an elderly woman, uncertainly staring at him. He didn't recognize her and frowned. "Who are you?"

Scott's embarrassment was overshadowed by the urgent need to disable the bomb. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed, his body shaking with desperation. He tried to steady his hands, but they trembled uncontrollably. “I still haven’t gotten a girlfriend,” Scott whispered between his tears. “She is supposed to give me an answer tomorrow.” I couldn't even cry or scream, I just shut my eyes and looked into heaven. This is it, I'm coming to you, Lord, although it's early, please welcome me with open arms. Since I’ve suffered enough on earth, I'm definitely not going to hell. Time of death: 25/9/2025

Chapter 251: Feeling Restless Back in his apartment, Scott unfastened his hair, allowing it to fall loosely around his shoulders. From a cupboard, he retrieved a bottle of Crown Royal and a glass, pouring the amber liquid over a couple of ice cubes. He wandered to the window and looked out over the city lights as he swirled the drink in his glass. His mood was quiet, contemplative. He'd enjoyed his session with the slave. And he'd achieved the sexual release he'd hoped for. But still…