Now I'm Gonna Starve Patrick Novels & Stories

*Stuart's POV – the flashback* It has been five months since I last spoke with Patricia, but until now, she has yet to sign the divorce papers. I have promised Sandra to file my divorce first before I go back to London and marry her, but I could not do it because Patricia is trying to make things hard for me. I have to do something, or nothing will ever happen. "Are you bribing me, Stuart?" Mr. Sandoval asked. "I don't need to bribe you, Mr. Sandoval," I faked a smile, "I know how much you need money to save your company."

" I chuckled at this sentence. I knew someone influential. I knew Jeremy. There was that. "So tell me, how did you get a job at one of the Deluca companies? I feel like you're hiding something away from me, Nadi. Tell me, we are friends, we are best friends for crying out loud." She pressed on, her persistence making my skin itch. "My dad has been sick, Steph, you know that. I have been working my ass off to make ends meet. Mom has been trying to, but the hustle hasn't been easy."

As if sensing my gaze, he turned around with a spatula in hand and smiled at me. "Go sit on the sofa for a bit. Dinner's almost ready." I gave a quiet acknowledgment and walked toward the couch. Before I could sit down, a frantic knock sounded at the door. "Baron, please come take a look… It's Sandy… She suddenly has a high fever. She can't keep anything down. Please help me… I really don't know what to do…" Her words dissolved into sobs. I had to admit, Michelle was beautiful. The kind of striking beauty that commanded attention. With tears streaming down her face, she looked fragile and pitiful, enough to stir even my sympathy.

My stomach rumbled with hunger. “You can go in your room for the time being.” He scoffed. I immediately came in my room and fell on the bed. So hungry. It has probably been a day since I ate because of noodles being finished and now that I had bought, it’s left in the kitchen. What should I do. I feel like a starved chicken. ********* Ashton was feeling very sad because of the way Siena talked to him. What did he do to deserve being spoken like this?

My heart still pounding. “What happened to you?” “Whadya mean?” I groggily sat up. “It’s 5 pm already, love. Did you leave the bed?” he asked as he eyed my pajamas. I shook my head but it’s obvious. “Have you eaten lunch, at least?” I sighed. “I’m not hungry.” “You always say that. You have to eat. Something, anything. Come on, I’ll cook.” “I’m not in the mood, Austin,” I grumbled in protest. I just want to sleep some more. Maybe a few more minutes before it’s officially nighttime and the vigil starts again.

This one was so strong that a fit of cough threatened to end the small amount of life he still had in him. My eyes narrowed and I had to even stare at my men to be sure that I wasn’t the only one seeing this. Patrick the most famous rogue turned out to be physically sick and now it seemed he was also mentally unstable. “You think Keith cares about me?” Patrick said when he had calmed down. He shook his head and stared straight into my eyes. “Keith hates me that’s why he kept me in here. If you take me to him, you will only be wasting your time. My advice to you will be that you worry about your mate and son…”

“Oh Elena, if you only knew how much I love you. - Patrick said to the darkness of his room. “If you only knew how much I wish our lives had been designed differently. With less dark features. He would give anything to have her in his arms. Including his desire for revenge. Of course, if he hadn't promised the only other woman he loved that he wouldn't leave this world without making Luís Fernando pay for her crime. It was impossible to forget. The heat was so intense that day. It looked like he was in the bakery where he worked, more precisely inside the oven. Patrick looked around, opening his eyes, and saw his mother sleeping soundly on the bed next to the little shack he called home. The

TATE Staring into his eyes, I felt my chest tighten with shame, repulsion and anger for the things that he did to me last night. I couldn't hold eye contact with him for long, so I glanced away. “Parker.” He called, his voice irritatingly gentle. “You’re awake. You must be hungry. Come sit and eat with me.” “I'm not hungry.” I said quietly, not looking up. “I'd like to go home now.” Patrick, who stood by my side, suddenly turned and left. Best guess is that this inhumane bastard has signalled him to leave.

Patrick says softly. "I can't wait till all the masters are gone and the evil behind it no longer exists. I especially can't wait for Lena to feel safe and not afraid to walk around the pack. "I rub my neck as I talk. We clean up the kitchen before we check on Lena, who is still sleeping. I got to our home gym and worked out until I got hungry. Once in the kitchen, I see Patrick cooking, so I sit and watch. He looks over his shoulder and smiles.

None of them had ice-blue eyes that saw too much while pretending they saw nothing at all. Dr. Patel was still talking logistics—keys to his place would be waiting at the security desk, a driver en route, confidentiality paperwork already signed on his end. I murmured the right responses, but my brain kept looping on one thought: living with him. Sharing the same air. Watching that wall of his crack wider in real time while I tried not to let my own nerves show. Because the truth was simpler and scarier than any re-tear. Ronan Hale in my professional space was manageable.