Nathaniel Flint Novels & Stories

Jason said, his voice casual but with a hint of teasing. Nathaniel glanced at the file, then back at Jason with a slight smirk. “Early? I’m Nathaniel Hawthorne. This is my company. I walk into my office whenever I feel like it.” Jason chuckled, clearly unbothered by Nathaniel’s response. “Of course. Just making sure you’re on top of things,” he teased, folding his arms. Nathaniel waved him off, his attention drifting back to the window, the view of the busy city below. “I’ll get to it when I get to it. No need to rush.”

'I think we can use this to ruin the reputation of Nathan and demand him to resign from his position' he suggested. And Flinn who received the picture looked equally excited to ruin Nathan. His ego was hurt when the person whom he was supporting lost and their opponent won. Now he got an opportunity to ruin Nathan. 'Done' he replied and started working on an article to ruin Nathan. 'Pedophile' He typed and attached the picture of Nathan and Cathy before he started typing vile things about Nathan.

"What's on your mind, Nathaniel?" Nathaniel's smile masked his turmoil. "Nothing," he muttered, shrugging. Before Kilo could press further, Tristian burst in, his face etched with worry. "Thank the goddess you're alright!" Tristian exclaimed. He enveloped Nathaniel in a tight hug. Nathaniel's eyes met Kilo's over Tristian's shoulder. Kilo's gaze held a mix of relief and concern. “I am a Hawthorne, and we aren’t easy to kill,” Nathaniel muttered cockily, a hint of pride in his voice.

“A—are you sure, sir?” “If I want an advantage over the Montgomerys, I’ll have to set aside my pride,” Nathaniel said calmly. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to win Serena back. Do as I say.” “Yes, sir,” Gavin replied. “Right away.” At exactly two in the afternoon, the draft arrived on his desk. Nathaniel approved it immediately and left for the airport. By five, he was standing inside a private suite at Stonewatch Rehabilitation Network in Greyhold. An older man, well into his nineties, sat on a sofa, his eyes wet with emotion. A decorated soldier still revered by the nation, yet to Nathaniel, he was only an old man who had abandoned his own blood.

Nathaniel Across the city, Nathaniel Crane leaned back in his leather chair, ice pressed to his bruised jaw. His men stood around him, waiting for orders. “Blackwood thinks he’s won,” he muttered, swirling whiskey in his glass. “But he doesn’t understand. Winning her in a fight doesn’t mean keeping her.” He smirked, though the bruise on his lip tugged painfully. “She came to me once. That seed is planted. Next time she runs, she won’t be walking into my den—she’ll be begging for sanctuary.”

I whisper, barely audible, but the glass catches the sound and throws it back at me like a vow. “Not until he begs.” The screen flickers again, cutting to Nathaniel. Standing on a stage, too polished, too smooth. He’s spinning the story, brushing off the lawsuits, swearing the company is stable. His grin is wide. Too wide. But his eyes. His eyes flicker. Just for a second. And I feel it in my bones. The cracks are reaching him. Soon. Very soon.

Nathaniel looked like the sort to hurt your feelings without even trying. I stared at him now. Soft auburn hair fell in short ringlets over full eye brows. He had the sort of sharp, bony features that screamed aristocratic. Well proportioned waist to torso ratio. Nathaniel’s was the kind of handsome that belonged in the lyrics of a Taylor Swift song. He was nursing a whisky glass, swirling the liquid, as he continued to access my frame in that slightly bored, slightly detached manner.

(Audrey's POV) Florian leaning against the doorframe with that infuriating lazy smile of his, golden wolf eyes gleaming with amusement. "My, my, what have we here? The Snowfang heir playing pack real estate agent?" Nathan's body language shifted immediately, his shoulders tensing as he positioned himself slightly in front of me. It was a subtle protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Florian, whose smile only widened. "Florian," Nathan greeted coolly. "I wasn't aware you frequented this area."

He was taken to Fredrick. Nathaniel didn’t know what to think of Fredrick. He knew him by name, knew him by his wealth, and had passed him on the streets numerous times yet just like everyone else in town he barely knew Fredrick. What he and everyone else did know though was he wasn’t a kind man. Many hopeful miners had gone to him for employment, hoping to make their fortune off him and he turned down every single one, opting only to buy the children of poor families who would sell their children for a little cash.

Abraham feared his son’s power. Flint knew his father well. Abraham was not just a father—he was first the Wolf King. Suspicious, cautious, always balancing power. Flint gave a small nod, hiding the frustration that built inside him. “I understand.” “Good,” Abraham said. His attention had already shifted back to the papers on his desk. Flint left the study with measured steps, his thoughts a storm beneath his calm exterior. Later, his phone buzzed. Amy’s name lit the screen. He answered with little patience. “What do you want?”