Private Desmond Doss Novels & Stories

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

It looks like an office from thirty years ago, before the internet, before fast computers, before modern cellphones. On the desk is a placard. "Damien Debrassy". From the files I've read, I know that is Desmond Debrassy's grandfather--the founder of the Downtown Devils and the man who raised the monster we're hunting now. This space must have been his office once. But there isn't a speck of dust. It's either been cleaned recently, or it's still in use. This must be the place. It has to be.

“Not the kind you're thinking of.” My palms are starting to get clammy. “Do you traffic women? Children?” The disgust that flashes across his face seems genuine. “Absolutely not.” I let out a breath. At least there's that. There's a long silence, while the gravity of what he’s said hits me. Desmond is not only an alpha wolf shifter, he’s one of the five most powerful ones on the continent. I knew he was dangerous. I knew he was powerful. But this is beyond my wildest imaginings.

"Must have been hard for you. I'm sorry" He waved her off with a slight chuckle. "You don't need to apologize, it's fine" he gulped down his shot then leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bar, and with the way his arms bulged against his shirt, It took all of Dawn's willpower not to stare. "So what about you, what do you do?" "Uh, I'm a canvasser at New York daily" "How lovely" She shrugged a shoulder. "Not exactly. It's more like I get paid to run crappy errands for my boss and still do all the work"

Then two men in the front row caught her attention—and refused to let go. The older one sat like a king on his throne. Nico Rossi, forty-six, underboss of the Rossi empire. Broad shoulders filled his black suit perfectly. Silver threaded through his dark hair at the temples, giving him a distinguished, dangerous edge. His face was carved stone—sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and eyes like frozen steel. He watched her with unnerving intensity, one finger tapping slowly on the arm of his chair.

Mason said and with the help of his walking cane, he stood up. "What if they are fabricated?" Camilla asked, stopping Mason. "Desmond, bring me the proof," Mason hit his cane on the floor, "I have some documents to review, excuse me." Desmond was a lower class who got married into a rich family, he doesn't work for the Mosiah group but works for Kenzal. "I will be in my studies," Mr Mosiah wiped his mouth with the napkin and left the dining room. "Hmmm…Desmond and I have to catch up with his family, excuse us," Camilla dragged her husband by the hand and left.

Desmond played it again. “We don’t have anything to do with Abigail Levisay. She is no more a part of Levisay International. No more a part of my life. This is the final official statement. We expect you all to please spare our lives and do something productive. It's been only two days! Have patience. Wait for four to five days.” He then took off his glasses showing that amazing pair of blue orbs. “We have better things to do than hanging on to this not-so-important case. So a word of rose. Do something productive.”

His voice made her nipples tighten under her blouse. “Elena,” he snapped suddenly through the intercom. “In here. Now.” She jumped up, smoothing her tight pencil skirt, and walked in. Damon sat behind his massive desk in a perfectly tailored black suit, looking every inch the ruthless billionaire. His eyes flicked over her body like he owned it. Which, after last night, he kind of did. “Yes, Mr. Voss?” she asked, trying to sound professional. Her voice came out breathy. He leaned back, staring. “You’re walking funny today. Sore, are we?”

A voice said from the door and the doctors, including jasmine turn to look at the owner of the voice. "Who the f"ck is he? Is he a lunatic or something?" Jasmine thought staring at the guy at the door strangely "I'm desmond and i'm not a lunatic. Call me a lunatic one more time and i'll stop your existance" Desmond replied coldly and Jasmine eyes widdened. "How did he know what i was thinking? "Jasmine thought again.. But desmond ignored her and walk out of the hospital "Jasmine" Sandra called as she stared at desmond as he left

Desmond did not go any further; he calmly walked up to her, threw back a sentence: 'Get coffee,' then turned around to return to the restaurant. Fiona Forger glared at the tall figure of the man; hm, could she wave her hand and leave? Can't, she doesn't dare! How, say, Boss Desmond is also the biggest creditor of Forger Corporation today. If she knows what, it's best not to anger him. Come on, drink coffee, drink coffee! Who would have thought that a busy person like Boss Desmond would have time to drink afternoon tea with Fiona Forger? Sitting down, Damian Desmond took off his vest, slipped it on the chair's armrest, then unbuttoned his sleeve and flipped it up twice to reveal his strong ar