Mr Gold Ouat Novels & Stories

A shimmer of moonlight on steel. Elira’s dagger was in her hand instantly. “We’re not alone.” Figures emerged from the shadows—tall, cloaked, their eyes glinting like stars. Their movements were silent, precise, deadly. Elves. One stepped forward, lowering his hood. His hair was gold as wheat, his features sharp and cold. His gaze swept over Kaelen before settling on Elira. “Liraethiel,” he said, voice like steel wrapped in velvet. “You’ve broken exile.”

“Sure, Mr. Moody. I’d be happy to help.” Mr. Moody slams his hands down excitedly and rises from the desk with an enthusiastic grin. “Fantastic, Ms. Vega! I will set up an introduction with your tutor in the library this afternoon. He’ll be waiting for you there.” Feeling just as ecstatic by my choice, I rise from the chair. Mr. Moody is the most exuberant person I’ve ever met. He’s a portly guy with a balding head, rosy cheeks, and large dark eyes. He’s always wearing dark suits with funny ties that make us kids roll our eyes. The tie he’s wearing today is of Snoopy flying in the sky with Woodstock behind him.

Guevara Villa “Welcome home, my beloved! I’m sorry it took so long before I found you,” Leonard Guevara exclaimed and 10 other maids lined up to welcome Camille. Camille stood at the door-way and looked at the man before her, it was truly the billionaire. Leonard Guevara. He owned lots of companies in the city likewise the top notch hotels, he’s filthy rich even the Rodrigo can’t beat him to it. ‘How is he suddenly my father?’ Camille wondered.

"Yes, I did. Since I own Merrigold with all her paperwork, I'm very well in ownership of anything that comes out of her. You need my guidance even till this age so, I'm doing you a favor." "Do you hear yourself? Does that sound right to you? You ignorantly speak as if Merrigold is one of the cattle or horses in your stable. She is a person, she is pregnant with my children." With a sigh, Austin father replied. "I own Merrigold, I'm not selling her to you. You're not allowed to see her, you will not be allowed to see her kids... either. They're not your kids. You kids would be full born and bread Caucasians. They're her kids because they're black. There is no mulatto. They're black. They're n

"Hi, beautiful!" Oliver's deep voice whispered into the receiver. I chuckled. "Hi, Oly," I shyly replied. "How is your day going?" "Not so great, but your call did the magic." "I'm glad. Did you enjoy your breakfast?" "It was delicious," I giggled. "Are you done with the board meeting?" "Yeah, I'm exhausted." "Do you need a massage?" He laughed so loudly on the phone, "I would love that; only we might indulge in another form of massage."

Why is he so irritated this time? When Mr. Johnson exits the elevator, I'm surprised. He's young. Well, younger than I imagined. I mentally thank myself for dressing up a bit more today. He is tall, with blonde hair cut just above his shoulders, blue eyes, and a thick beard. Based on his size, I can imagine his physique underneath the suit. I stand up to greet him. He is almost as big as Ryan. "Mr. Johnson! Good afternoon!" "Good afternoon!" He quickly looked me up and down, making me blush. "Follow me. Mr. Ryan is waiting," he nods.