Novel Legacy Novels & Stories

Chapter 1 I'm lying on my couch, staring at the ceiling of my apartment. Today, I turned eighteen. I also learned that I've become Tim Frost's heir. If something happens to him, I'll inherit his entire fortune. I don't know how much he has, but I've heard that it's substantial. They also say that, in addition to his legitimate business, Tim influences certain criminal circles. I don't want his inheritance; I want Tim Frost himself. But he made it clear that nothing can happen between us. He said I must forget him.

Nathan quickly interjected with tangible vexation at the sound of my father's choice of words, earning himself a scowl from him. "You shut up," He swiftly bit back at him with a pointed look, making him bristle as he peered between the two of us, but thankfully didn't continue arguing. Blowing out a tired sigh, my father lowered himself into a crouching position so that he could be at the same eye-level with me, resting his elbows over his knees as he started to explain, "Carina, we're...You, and me and your sister, we're not humans either. We share an ancient bloodline, the shaman bloodline. Our veins are filled with magic,"

And that was a legacy worth fighting for. **THE END**

Just reached over, brushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “They took it,” he said finally. Quiet. Devastated. Savannah closed her eyes. “Weren’t we supposed to hold truth in our hands?” Outside, the world blurred into smears of gold and black. Streetlamps became ghosts on the windshield. Her voice trembled now, stripped bare: “Legacy… legacy isn’t serum or names. It’s memory. That’s all we ever had.” Lightning clawed the skyline, revealing scars and scaffolds. Thunder stitched the world together for one aching breath.

‘I guess you are flattering me Sir,’ Ima said yieldingly. ‘You should know that am not the type of men who shower flatteries anyhow, I call the truth as it is. The old woman, May her soul continue resting in peace, wasn’t wrong when she named you the sole heir to her empire. She saw what thousands failed to spot in you and am sure wherever she is, she is very proud of you.’

That night, as they stood side by side watching the city lights, Emma whispered, "You know what I want to call it?" "What?" "Legacy. Not just for me. For everyone who rises again." And so, as the stars stretched across the sky and the city pulsed with possibility, a new chapter began. Not one of survival. But of becoming. Of loving. Of lingering, even when the world tried to forget. A love that didn’t fade. A love that lingered. Forever.

His jaw clenched. “Watch your big mouth, little nosy bastard,” he said. The oldest of the lot—a Fat Man with the stained silk tie and short temper—leaned back in his chair and tapped the edge of his glass. “Calm down everybody! You can’t have both the girl and your legacy, Elky Jennings. You have to pick one or another.” Legacy? What a poetic word for a stash of blood money in a dodgy Swiss account and multiple floors of empty rooms with 18th century closets full of skeletons. I swallowed a smirk with my wine but my face didn’t move a muscle.

"No, it wasn't me—it was Ellen! I was just following orders…" "Is that so?" Chase raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to Ellen, who stood frozen in shock. "I…" Ellen opened her mouth, but no words came out. Chase sighed as he shook his head. "You're no match for me. Hand over the so-called Saint's Legacy, and I might consider sparing your life," he said coolly. The Saint's Legacy was a treasure passed down through the Stark family for generations. It was rumored to be invaluable, a key to ascending the path of a martial arts saint.