Oscar Delancey Novels & Stories

Donovan had not come begging for it. Perhaps he was too ashamed. Perhaps he did not even know about it, or perhaps my mother-in-law had finally understood something. Either way, my connection to her ended with that money and the prepaid fees. It would be the best ending if both of us could find peace. The evening glow filtered through the balcony glass door, painting the living room in warm golden orange. I stood up, slid open the glass door, and stepped onto the balcony. The evening breeze was gentle, carrying the fresh scent of early summer plants growing.

“I hope it’s not a trap.” “And if it is, are you scared?” I tease him. “Me? Scared? Haa, I can laugh in the face of death.” He bursts out. We don’t need weapons to fight, we have our strength, which is more than enough. We go into the building, and within a few minutes, Oliver uses his sensitive nose to get Alpha Tate’s scent, and we find him. He looks so pale and white. His hands are connected to drips, he’s chained up and hanged lifeless on it.

Someone, somewhere, knew what had really happened in that village with the unpronounceable name. Conrad wanted something to humiliate his boss’s son. To prove that he was not the god of war everyone feared. And I, Dheyman Kessler, would deliver to him the body of a fallen angel. Wrapped in a dirty secret and sold at a king’s price. I drank the last sip of whisky. The taste now was one of anticipation. The hunt had begun. And the prey, without knowing it, was about to have its heart exposed on the Delyon family dining table, in front of its youngest admirer.

Jonathan's enthusiastic rundown of the grand Centennial Hall preparations fell on deaf ears. “Mr. Hill? Earth to Mr. Hill," Jonathan finally got his attention, concern creasing his brow. "Jonathan, can we… I need a moment." The car pulled up at the Centennial Hall and when they stepped out, Mr. Hill and Jonathan met Delacy in a crimson suit that exuded power, a stark contrast contrast to the last time he'd seen her - tearful and packing her desk after her unfortunate firing. There was awkwardness in the air, "Delacy," Mr. Hill managed to speak, "About what happened…"

"Elowen, my dear." The voice was warm and immediately familiar. I turned to find Evelyn Delancey moving toward me through the crowd, unhurried, the way only someone who'd been coming to this exact building since before it had a glass roof could move. She wore dark plum velvet, an old silver brooch pinned to her lapel, silver hair cropped short and sharp. Her family had owned half of Westchester before the railroads came through, but she'd spent forty years running historic trusts and treating new money like mildly interesting weather that would eventually pass.

She was Eleanor Vance, philanthropist, curator, companion. And around her throat, gleaming in the low light, was the name of her owner, her daddy, her world: DELANO. The billionaire’s challenge was complete. He had won not just her body, but her will. And in the dark, surrendered core of her soul, where shame and pleasure had fused into something new, she knew she would never want to be free again.

"Since we succeed once, it does not matter how many security or secret weapons he has; just let's wait for a little; we will find our opportunity." Oscar Astor thinks of himself as that lion; if a lion takes a step back, don't think he loses; he took the step back because he would jump in. But he didn't know he was not the lion; he was the overconfident donkey dancing overconfident. Oscar was not confident enough to break in because he knew David Xiver was waiting for him on the other side of the gate. He would never foolishly break in just because he was in a hurry to take Grace Allen back; he had to wait for her so long just because of David Xiver; now he could wait a little more, and this

***** Spade's car stopped in front of an unfamiliar building, there was a huge sign in front of the building, shinning with lights, written in bold italics were the words Saint Deluca. It looked like a club but without neon lights and it looked much bigger and less crowded ob the outside, it was already almost dark outside, Spade's eyes moved from the steering to Nate on the side, he could see the awe in his eyes as he looked through the car window Something inside Spade warmed up as he watched Nate, the mere fact that Nate was somehow pleased with whatever he was seeing made Spade kind of relax, like he had been tensed before, somehow hoping Nate would approve of wherever they were going.

Within minutes, Alice was squashed into the back of a Taxi, sat beside her Dad. The streets of London rolled past the car window in a mere few minutes. Alice knew that it could be one of her final times seeing London. Whenever she felt like crying, she pushed her emotions firmly downwards imaging her dream life in Sheffield. Her fingers sought the comfort of her red polka dot bag and the dandelion bracelet dangling loosely around her wrist. The smooth metal carving of the dandelion made Alice cherish the good times that she had in London. She only hoped that she could make even better memories like that in Sheffield.

A strong arm helped me up. After I stood up, I thanked the man who helped me. I carefully looked at the man. He had really prominent features and curly black hair. “Elena, I’m Andrew Edwards.” “Edwards? Edwards Corporation?” “You’ve helped me in the past. Even though it was nothing to you, I wanted to repay your kindness.” “I… I don’t remember.”