Richard Gere Novels & Stories

I didn’t know how long our talk lasted but I could tell he noticed I was a bit distracted and that was when he let me go but what I didn’t expect was seeing Tessa with the same man I never wanted to see her with Richard is a cunning and a fucking bastard his father was second in command to the last leader of the Russian mafias but he was born in the United states the only resons he keeps answering his English name and she’s like one even though he had ancient Russian blood running through his veins. If there was one thing I knew about him over the years. We have learnt to stay off each other's businesses and tried our best to cooperate in ways but seeing him with Tessa raced my heart in ways

I grumbled, clearly having a death wish. Except, the man chuckled and I could bet my life savings that the alcohol was to blame because Eddie looked just as flabbergasted as I felt. "Yes, how very cliched but a fickle thing like fucking with the one and only Gunnar Astor, the man who considers himself untouchable, is also the good motive," Mickey rounded his desk, giving me a full-body image of him. He wore a Slate Gray button-down that was open around the chest and had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Inky black slacks hugged his toned legs, "the figlio di puttana will be pissed that his woman came running to me in the end. He'll be pissed that I won and that he lost. He's always hated

I questioned. Richard paused for a moment, contemplating his response. 'You know that Roger is my grandfather.' 'Is he really your grandfather?' I asked. Richard sighed and looked at me with a mix of sadness and frustration. 'He is Grandma Ruth's brother,' he admitted. 'And the only person that I can trust is not because he is my only family, but because he was the person who saved me when the whole world was trying to kill me.' Richard's words hung heavy in the air, revealing a deeper connection between him and Roger. As I absorbed this information, I couldn't help but wonder about the circumstances that led to such a desperate situation.

“Gerald, enough with the excuses. My parents are dead because of Richard. You knew. You were part of it. You’re not getting out of this clean. But if you help us, maybe you’ll still have a chance to walk away.” He swallowed hard, rubbing his hands together as though the motion could erase his guilt. “What do you want from me?” “The truth,” I said sharply. “Everything you know about Richard. His operations, his connections—anything that could lead us to the evidence we need.” Gerald hesitated, glancing nervously between Zack and me. Finally, with a defeated sigh, he spoke.

It was weird having him call me that, but I kinda liked it. “Get the men ready, we are going in. Trevor said there hasn’t been much activity and I can’t wait any longer to see if Joseph shows up.” He nodded at me and left the office. I stood up and opened the cabinet behind me. It was full of guns, knives, and anything you could think of to wipe out anyone who stood in my way.

Gerald had never needed notes for anything he'd already rehearsed in a mirror. "Richard Steele," he began, his voice carrying the way a trained voice carries, warm and full and reaching every ear without apparent effort, "was a man who believed in this family more than he believed in himself. He gave quietly. He led without announcement. He was, in every sense that matters, the foundation we all stood on without knowing we were standing." Someone near the back made a soft sound. A woman, I thought. One of Richard's old friends from before the business years.

One evening, as I sat by the fireplace with a cup of tea, the investigator finally called. My hands trembled slightly as I answered. “Margarette, this is Gerald. I’ve got some preliminary findings on Richard.” My heart pounded. “Go on.” “Richard is… an anomaly,” Gerald began. “His official records only go back about six years. Before that, there’s no trace of him. No birth certificate, no educational history, nothing.” “What?” I said, confused. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

"He refused to join me." "I know that." "So I locked him away." Nick felt his heart stop. "He's alive." Richard nodded slowly. "He has been alive every single day." Nick's eyes filled with tears. "Where is he?" Richard smiled again. "If I tell you..." "...you'll stop chasing me." Nick took one angry step forward. "I swear I'll find him." "I hope you do." Richard stood from his chair for the first time. He was tall. His hair had turned silver, but his posture remained straight. He walked toward the camera. "As much as I have enjoyed this conversation..."

“You can call me whatever you want Richard but you lost. My children are going to have a better father. One who loves them like they are his and that is all I want.” “Okay go ahead and get married. I’ll just tell the world what a fraud your future husband is.” Richard growled. “What are you talking about?”. “I know he is not who he claims to be. He’s not Raine Emerson Cruz.” Richard said. “The face of the man he is using as a camouflage is Alexandros Bertinelli. He died on the same day Emeliano Giovanni Brillantes did but his death was never recorded.” “What are you trying to say?”. She sounded bored. “No one will believe you anyway.”

“Mom, I’m so sorry.” She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Gretchen, who stiffened at first, then reluctantly hugged her back, her embrace hesitant. Gretchen pulled back, wiping her eyes quickly, and Millie asked, her voice softer, “Who's Richard?” Gretchen’s lips curved into a small, almost defiant smile, her composure returning. “Richard worked at the center. After the miscarriage, I spiraled. Ended up there for a while. He was one of the staff and helped me through it.”