Nika Bradford Novels & Stories

So that is odd. The front door opens and I see Bradford walk in. He is the chief of police and a good friend to the club. What is he doing here? He never just stops by. I straighten up “ Bradford.” He nods “ Viper. When this came to the station I thought I would bring it myself.” he says handing me a manila envelope. “ What is this?” I ask. “ I don’t know. But consider yourself served.” he says and leaves. What the fuck? I have never been served papers like that before.But before I can even look at the envelope Lug comes charging in.

It was already too late. A tear leaked out, tracing a path down my temple and soaking into my hair. I pressed my palm against my stomach, wishing I could somehow turn back the clock. Bradley is going to be so heartbroken, I thought, a sob catching in my throat. Bradley Norwood. My husband. The billionaire captain of the city’s hockey team, a man who literally had the world at his fingertips. He was larger than life, a fierce competitor who hated losing more than anything. And underneath all that rough, athletic exterior, he had this quiet obsession with the future.

Mr. Lorenzo Junior's POV "Yes, I know I am a fool, and that is why this fool would not listen to you. I will end up marrying the love of my life, and there's nothing you or anyone would do about this," I said firmly. "And you wonder why I always compare you to Bradford, you disappointing ingrate." Bradford is the name of the guy he had brought into the company. I never really understood why he had to bring in a stranger, and not just that—he brought him in and didn't place him as a

His face was still hidden. Christian stopped dead in his tracks. The man stepped fully into the light. Noah Bradford. The ultimate playboy. In London. And standing right in front of him.

No matter how much she searched through the profile, she could not find any recent photo, but this man before them undoubtedly was Clinton Bradford. "The Bradfords' estimated net worth is a hundred million dollars!" Mara read with eyes rounding. "Jackpot!" "He looks really familiar, though," Claire said, but no matter how much he stared at the man, she couldn't remember where he had seen him. "It doesn't matter because he is coming our way!" Mara exclaimed, and before they knew it, Clinton Bradford stood before them, exuding grace and confidence. "Clinton Bradford," the man introduced himself. "I am sorry, but I could not help but stare at your beauty -"

"Clancy's grandson bought that mansion over on Bakersridge." "What nonsense are you saying? The man's a biker; for heaven's sake, where would he get that kind of money?" Natalie took a sip of the water the waitress had placed in front of her as she savored the look on Jen's face. Oh, this was going to be good.

His wife had passed away a few years ago. “Is everyone here?” Bradford entered the hall with the support of his son and daughter-in-law. Wearing a black suit and leaning on his walking cane, he sat on the main seat with a smile on his face. A bunch of relatives also got up at this time, congratulating Bradford on his birthday. Then, they presented him with their gifts.

replied Charles. You are a funny man Charles. I wonder what a kid like that had to do to break into the cold heart of a man like you. said Brad in a quick laughter. As for the kid, yeah I can help my best friend get him out in one piece. But for one thing it is not going to be easy dude. Since when did breaking into a building become uneasy for a fifty-nine year old dude called Brad Simpson? asked Charles.

"So what if you're Abigail Bradford? The Bradfords are finished. You might've been untouchable once, but that was in the past. The Bradfords don't even rank in Gryndon nowadays!" "Is that so?" A mocking smile tugged at my lips as I leaned back lazily into the couch. I lifted my hands in a careless shrug, saying, "Then go ahead and call your families. See if they're willing to stand against the Bradfords." The men's expressions lit up. They began digging out their phones. "Just wait! You'll be done for once my people get here, slut!" "That's right! No matter how arrogant she is, she's still a lone woman!"

He wanted to be in a position close enough to the platform for his bids to register, but at the same time — for no good reason — he wanted to be out of the sight line of the people on the stage, the girls being auctioned off, and one girl in particular. Brad was 29 years old. He had his MBA from University of California in marketing, and had been with Aerospace Technologies for three years. Prior to his graduate work at Cal, he had been a lieutenant in the Army Rangers. From his very first day at AT, he had been its top salesman. (His leading position resulted from having made a sale on his very first sales call.) At six feet three with sandy hair and brilliant blue eyes, he was very attract