Mr King Novels & Stories

My heart is literally breaking and I wish I can just march over to that bastard and rip his head off. "What news, Jimmy?" The Inspector General asks in a pissed voice. "Guess who I have here with me," Jimmy purrs, still smiling. “Who?” "Come on sir. Guess. Go on and guess." "I don't have time for games Jimmy—" "Sebastian King," Jimmy cuts him off. "I have Sebastian King here with me. He is the CEO of King Industries and equally the rich asshole who is on every magazine cover in the country." My blood goes cold.

As soon he saw RK, he greeted him. After that everyone inside the room stop doing what they were doing and called him "Mr. Kingston." But no one dare to call him by his name as that man did. The man, James Miller, come over and put his arm around RK's shoulder, and said, "RK come, sit here! We haven't seen each other for so long. It was hard to meet you than meeting a King!" "That's right! Mr. RK, we are looking for you many times. It was hard for to friends get together. Today you are not allowed to leave early!" The speaker was the other person sitting on the sofa.

His blue eyes settled on the guests, especially on Silence. Silence felt his heart warm up instantly, his gaze not leaving the figure. “That must be Mr. King's first son. Dylan King… the one who recently became the president of the King's Entertainment Industry,” Zade whispered to Rosa. “Damn… he’s a copy of Cassius King.” "You sure know a lot about the family." Rosa muttered. "I'm a big fan," Zade grinned. Dylan approached them, his gaze locked with Silence. He stopped to stand beside his father.

He seems polite and kind, and with such empathy in his eyes, I’m inclined to step forward and let him lead me away. My plans are ruined when Garth steps forward, nearly knocking me into the wall. “And just who may you be?” His voice is authoritative, as if Mr. Lake is somehow infringing upon something that belongs to him. Mr. Lake is a bit taller than Garth and broader, which is saying something because I’ve never imagined a man could be bigger than Garth. He clears his throat, but his charming disposition doesn’t waiver. “I’m an advisor to the king,” he says with a smile. “And you are?” He lifts a hand, and I imagine him crushing a watermelon in his palm.

Marcus whispered, “He’s the king of your world?” Richard’s breath hitched. The same thought echoing like thunder in both their minds.

Before William could finish his speech, he was interrupted by Catherine's father who yelled their names from the entrance. "Catherine? William? What are you two doing over there? Come on inside!" Mr. McKellen gestured. He turned around and opened the door slightly and yelled to his wife, "Honey! Catherine and William are here." With a grin on his face, he was too happy to notice Catherine and William were quarreling over something. "You better behave!" William whispered to Catherine and then plastered a fake smile on his face he adjusted his suit and pulled her to the house thereby putting up a font.

That he'll kill her. Fuck. I can't wait to get my hands on him, though there's now a line of people wanting to fuck him up before Alyssa takes the final shot. King picks up on the third ring. "What's up, prez?" "You busy?" I ask, even though I can hear the muffled crying and shouting in the background. "Not really," King replies dryly. "Just visiting our friend, Mr. Rivera." "King, you're making a mess," Mason grumbles in the background.

Tristan yelled, Josh and Tristan’s hands colliding in a flash of plastered joy. The second point was given to them once again, forcing Jam to take a break to speak with his teammates. “Mr. President, not bad,” Tristan clicked his tongue. Josh rolled his eyes and replied with a cold tone, “Yes, you too.” Suddenly, the door burst open. A man in a tight black shirt with a muscular body and a buzz cut entered—it was River. Behind him was his stepfather, wearing a mask of disappointment and dissatisfaction, dressed in a suit that looked terrifyingly professional.

Of fucking course. I stabbed my fork into the chicken on my plate, not even tasting it. This was the shit that got me heated. Holland didn't know the first thing about my finals or my major or literally anything about me, but here he was asking Kelvin about his semester like they were having some meaningful father-son moment. Kelvin's voice came out soft and humble like it always did. "Yeah, it's going great. Thank you for asking, sir." *Sir.* Who the fuck says sir to their dad in 2026?

“Ten percent? That’s quite significant, Julian. Are we to understand this is a permanent arrangement?” “Yes,” Julian replied smoothly. “Sophia brings fresh strategic insight and proven expertise in brand development. This strengthens our leadership.” “May I know your name Sir?” I asked the gentleman who has just spoken. He seemed quite surprised at my question but he eventually answered. “You can call me Mr. Thompson.” “I would really appreciate it if anyone wishing to talk could briefly introduce themselves first before saying what they have to say. Thank you so much for your understanding.” I said, everyone's facial expression was saying one thing or the other but I couldn’t care less.