Paris Reid Novels & Stories

M in my own handwriting. I was at my desk going through Xavier’s legal filings and I heard the silence so I looked up. Reid was holding the file open. Looking at a newspaper clipping from 2017. To Morana Mortaine at twenty-two winning the pharmaceutical industry’s emerging researcher award. Her first major press. She was laughing at something outside the frame and her PhD was three months old and she had absolutely no idea that a twenty-six year old across the city had read her dissertation twice and annotated the entire thing in red pen.

Asides from the danger and adventure that Marilla invited and the fact that she was in New York about the same time the Senator sent a package just didn’t seat well with me, she had dropped a message. An even more disturbing message. She had managed to tell me even with Emma sitting across that Victoria was rounding up her tours in Paris. Victoria was another story for another day, but have it in mind that she is one of the most demonic person you’d ever meet. All of these existed and I knew of it, the PI was still tracking the Senator and doing what he did best, Marilla Wilcox was a distraction, and Victoria would have to wait till my happy ending began. Tonight was for sparkling wine and g

Genuinely asking, not performing the question. "Yes," she said. "This is okay." He nodded and went back to the call, and she went back to her sketches, letting the sound of his voice fill the apartment around her — logistics, dates, contingencies, all of it in service of something that mattered to her, not to him. Twenty minutes later, her phone buzzed. Caden. *Reid just told me you're going to Paris. I'm devastated I wasn't consulted.* *You're not coming,* she typed back.

Just enough to see who it was. Reid.

These were ghosts from the Maddox family’s more shadowed corners, men whose histories were scrubbed and rewritten with Maddox money. Reid, stocky with an eternal five o'clock shadow and a stare that could freeze a bullet mid-air, was bent over his laptop. He’d been on camera duty all night, scanning public footage, digging into anything with a digital trace. His tattoos curled up his neck and under his ear like smoke.

“Dad, I know you have an important meeting today with the council. And mom, I know grandma is sick. She needs you. You two can always come anytime to my shop! I won't be mad or anything,” My parents didn’t fight with me anymore. They nodded as I exited our house. I’m waiting for a taxi to pick me up. At the age of 19, I have already finished College. I have a degree in Arts. And I don’t intend to study for a master’s or to take a doctorate degree anymore. I’m already okay with my degree. I want to put up a business that is in line with my passion. And that is art supplies. During my free time, I also love to draw and paint. Well, I, Daphne Steele, have lots of interest. I love helping people

I say, and Wyatt nods and Jagger stays still next to me. “I found something you might like to know,” Travis says on the other side of the line. I had even forgotten he was there. Looking at the screen, another photo appears and I snarl as I see Parisi in Harlem. “Parisi has been going to that side of town frequently. It’s not like he deals with the low-lives drug dealers he has selling drugs for him. There’s something more there,” Travis says. “Find out everything you can, send it all to me,” Wyatt announces.

he said, then lifted his eyes with a slow smile. Adrian followed his gaze and saw a CCTV camera positioned above them, silently recording. In an instant, he released Reid as though he had been holding fire. “You’re insane!” Adrian spat, anger boiling over at being trapped again. “You wanted to make me your next victim, didn’t you? The Frenchman wasn’t enough,you needed me gone to erase every witness, Reid said, confidence creeping into his tone. Just imagine how ruthless you can be, Adrian Hudson?” he asked.

She nudged her again and said, “Oh… It seems that you like Xander Reid. Good, good. Finally, you took an interest in something after a month. I thought you have become a soulless wooden doll.” “What did you say? Xander Reid? Who is Xander Reid?” Abigail asked in a state of stupor. She tore off her gaze from the phone and looked at Lilian. “You don’t know who Xander Reid is!” Lilian gawked at her with disbelief. Abigail shook her head in a trance. “Oh… How will you know? Let me tell you… Owen Reid is the owner of Pinnacles, the top most business empire in our country. Xander Reid is his only son who returned after twenty years.”