Richard Price Novels & Stories

"No matter how hard they try, no one can compare to you. You’re my masterpiece… You’re simply perfect." I heard footsteps approaching, and soon enough, I felt George standing in front of me. He casually kicked the corner of the garbage bag I was in with his shoe, probably curious to see who had the audacity to break into his estate. However, the stench of blood and garbage must have hit him hard because he abruptly stopped. Covering his nose, he stepped back a couple of paces. "Disgusting. Get rid of it, now."

“You forgot your glasses “ he said to me as he walked towards me with a smile. “Hey, Grace. How do you feel now?” He asked my mom. “I’m good. Thanks to you Leonard” “Are you done for the day?, Sophia came back early” mom added. “She did didn’t she?” “Is that allowed?”she asked. “Yes, she’s special, so she gets a pass”he said as I blushed . “Who are you?” Brian said in his thick British accent. “Leonard Shiva” “What are you doing here then?” He asked as I stared at his stupid face angrily.

She ended up in prison, while he lost both legs in the accident. Bound to a wheelchair for life, Elias was soon let go by his company. Jobless and with no family left, he was left to struggle for survival. When he saw me again, tears welled up in his eyes as he pleaded. "Look at me, Renee. Look at what I've become. It's all because of you. And yet, you still won't forgive me? Please, get back to me. I can't bear living alone anymore." I let out a derisive snort. "You have no one to blame but yourself, Elias. Don't twist it by saying it was all for me. Even now, you're still trying to manipulate me. How can you stoop so low?"

Freya's anger carried her straight to her father's study, her heels striking the polished floors like hammer blows. She threw open the heavy wooden doors, ready for battle. The scent of leather and old books – usually so comforting – now felt suffocating. "How dare you use David to manipulate me! After everything he did—” Mr Peterson Hart didn't even look up from his desk. Instead, he simply pushed a document toward her, the paper sliding across the smooth surface of his massive desk. The casual gesture stopped her mid-sentence.

"So?" "So you're betting I'll take whatever you offer because I'm desperate." I pick up the watch. The leather is warm from his handling. I hate that. "But this belonged to a man who refused a $500,000 bribe to stay silent about corporate fraud. His daughter inherited that trait." The broker leans back, crossing his arms. "Doesn't change the market value." "Market value is what someone will pay. And you'll pay $8,000 because this isn't just a Rolex. It's the watch worn by Patrick Bennett. The whistle-blower. The man Richard Sterling murdered."

Because it was too large. It had too many dead bodies inside it. Too much smoke. Too much broken barrier. Too many names that would hurt him before they made sense. Elaine. Nyra. Tobias Viremont. Lucian. Edenwood. Vandwood. Calista. Beverly. Prima betrayal. Dragon kings. Wraiths. Extinction. All of it pressed against my chest at once, and for a second, I did not know where to begin.

But I mean, if he was able to get my number, I’m sure he has the resources to find my address. I’m not ashamed to admit I had also googled him, after all he had plagued my mind since that day, it was only right that I did some digging. Anderson Jeremy, CEO of Amery Empire, known to not be affiliated with any woman for more than one night—clear commitment issues— hyper focused and ruthless CEO. All of a sudden, it dawns on me how I spoke to him. I’ve never been one to be rude to people, I probably could have been more civil to him. I just didn’t appreciate how he spoke to me.

"Every time, you hesitated. You felt for them—those who would see our kingdom burn rather than kneel. That compassion will be the death of everything sacred." Memory crashed over him like a poisoned tide. Standing in the courtyard of Ravenshollow. Watching smoke rise from cottages where families had barricaded themselves rather than surrender their sons to conscription. His mother beside him, beautiful and immutable as winter itself. Mercy is a luxury kings cannot afford. He had given the order to fire the buildings. But he had wept for them afterward. In the darkness of his chambers, where no one could witness a prince's weakness. "You knew," he whispered. Understanding flooded through him

As a senior elite, he could tell when a woman was endowed with wisdom but Richard thought differently and said confidently, "every woman has a price. She just has to name it." A small smile crept onto his fathers' lips and afterwards, he said no more. Richard walked out of the room with his father to the large conference room, meeting the guests, the press, the elders of both families and of course, the outgoing President Ivy Wrights, together with the Incoming President, Tony Wright and his little wife Abigail Wright. With the swiftness of the wind, Richard had developed a keen interest in Abigail. He was curious to know the family in which she was brought up, her educational background and

But his support system was himself in a helpless condition, so how was he supposed to land her a helping hand? At that time, he wished he could see through her heart so that he would be able to know what was the source of her strength. Except for the fact that Nicholas Price was the son of the richest business tycoon in the city, he didn't think that punk was worthy to stand against him. No matter what, he couldn't let them leave because he might not get the opportunity to implement his plan again that easily.