Regency Novels & Stories

Smile engulfed my face as I put on my favorite suit, brushed my hair perfectly with the hair oil, wore a bright shining shoe and alluring tie. “Good!” I gasped at how charming and handsome I was. Since my mother died, this was my first entrance into the Wellson Empire. I wanted this Empire not because of greed but because it was something my mother worked hard to see become successful. It was my home and very successful. I couldn't be alive and have it passed down to someone else. Wellson Empire consists of transportation, airline, hotel, malls, clubs, parks and so many businesses all merged in the Empire.

He wanted them to watch me break. ‎‎Around us, the glittering hall fell silent. I could hear the faint clink of a champagne glass being set down, the faint shuffle of expensive heels against marble. People were staring. They loved it. They lived for it. Ava Reynolds, wife of Daniel Cobbs, the billionaire everyone called untouchable, was on her knees, pleading like a beggar at a royal court. ‎‎Daniel leaned down, close enough for only me to hear, though I knew he wanted me to repeat it aloud. “You should have thought about dignity before marrying me.”

“In human language.” “If the certificate is accepted with valid biometrics,” Luca explained, “the legacy system can treat Poppy as an internally verified descendant.” “For inheritance?” “Inheritance, trust standing, protected-person authority, certain succession access.” I laughed without humor. “That child still can’t spell spaghetti without adding two extra letters, and someone is trying to register her in a European dynasty’s inheritance system.” “Not register her,” Sebastian said. I turned sharply toward him. “I know you have a pathological need for accuracy, but maybe now isn’t the time.” “She’s already registered.”

Ember said coldly, the earlier amused smile gone from her face. “And if she doesn’t?” a cool voice said from outside. Ember frowned. Marliee? What is she doing here? Marliee walked in with a scowl, casting an angry look at Ember. “In the Hale residence, you dare to order people around? Ember, what right do you think you have?” Ember straightened her back, her gaze steady. “This residence was given to me by the king. And until Ryker’s health is fully restored, I have full authority here.”

window as the sector disappears as we enter the next one, moving along the familiar road from the south. It's not as crowded as it was yesterday, and the route is dotted with agents. "The Palace is under control," the maid had said. I think that's what she was referring to. The glittering marble wall ahead, reflecting the rising sun in the woods. I want to close my eyes, but I resist. I know I have to keep them open here. The gate is surrounded by white uniforms, agents who check incoming travelers. When the vehicle pulls over, the maid takes me out and leads me to the gate without taking the queue. No one protests or bothers to verify your identity. She must be known around here. As soon a

I had spent years chasing after her, begging for even the smallest piece of her affection. I had cherished her above everything else. A single smile from her had once been enough to make my heart race. But now, all of those beautiful memories seemed to have faded away. What remained was only the bitterness of summer's end. Firmly, I shook my head. "No, thanks." It was all in the past now, and I should let go. The distant voice let out a soft sigh and opened the gate of reincarnation for me. Beyond the radiant doorway stood a little girl holding a teddy bear.

He responds and I smile. He excuses himself for some minutes to go talk with the sales person, before returning back to me. Together we take a tour of the place and I find out that most of the cars there are not to my taste, except for a black, sleek Ferrari, but I'm not about to have him pay for that. "Seen anything you like yet?" Gregory questions after we had our fair view of the cars displayed. "Yes and no" I respond. "What do you mean by yes and no."

The 35 year old brunette sighed as she gazed upon her daughter. “She’s going to be fine, Cassie”, Jonathan assured his wife as he came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Margret”, the witch sternly corrected, moving away from her husband to check the wards around Lena’s room. “Sorry, force of habit”, the 38 year old man said, apologetically “but you do know she is going to be fine, right?” Margret turned to him, candle in hand “you don’t know that” she lit the candle with a snap of her fingers and set it down on the windowsill.

The sound of the jet's engine infiltrated the airport as it taxied to a stop, its white surface glinting in the sunlight as it came to a halt. After a moment, the stairs lowered as Arcangelo stepped out of the interior, walking down the stairs as a Rolls Royce stood awaiting him. "Welcome to America, Mr. Regnante." The man, his escort, spoke with a polite smile and a professional stance. "I hope your flight was alright." "Yes, it went well," Arcangelo informed as he turned on his phone, glancing at the lack of messages and calls before slipping it into his blazer's pocket.

** “I’ve never seen so many people gathered together, even during your father’s time.” This was the statement my mum had made to me when we went out in the Balcony to see the people and present Garret. She had said this impulsively and for her to have made such a statement, you should know that the number of Reignile werewolves that had gathered were mighty. — mightier than any crowd I had ever seen. The Canine Reigns was divided into five parts— the Northern, the Southern, the Eastern, the Western, and the Central Reigns, and from the understanding we had gotten from my mother’s guesses, the entire Central Reigns was probably occupied by the subjects in attendance.