Novel & Cerita Richard Sterling Story

"We really did try to accept you. But you've made it impossible. The paranoia, the accusations, the investigation into Sophia, and now this violence. You've proven exactly what we suspected from the beginning. You're not equipped to be a Sterling." "I never wanted to be a Sterling. I wanted to be Damon's wife." "Well you've failed at that too, haven't you? Because he's not here. He's with the woman who's carrying his child. The woman who actually belongs in this family." "The baby might not be his..." "The baby is his," Richard said firmly. "We've seen the ultrasounds, we've spoken with her doctors, we have medical confirmation. Your conspiracy theories don't change reality." "Then why did s

"Why, Ryan? What could Julian Sterling possibly have done to make you strip your own patch and declare war?" "He has something that belongs to me." I said, keeping my voice dangerously low. "And he is holding my club hostage to keep it." Richard studied my face. He was a master at reading people; he had built an empire by knowing exactly what his enemies were hiding. I saw the exact moment the puzzle pieces clicked together in his mind. "A woman." Richard stated, a sudden sneer curling his upper lip. "Isn’t it?” I didn’t say anything. “Sterling’s wife ran away a few months ago. The tabloids said she had a mental break. But she didn't run to a spa, did she?" He asked.

“R-Right. It was pretty silly, huh? I hope you can forgive my idiotic son, Mr. Brighthall!” Brendan hummed off-handedly. “I’m here to see Sterling. I want to talk to him, but I don’t know if he’s up to it.” “O-Oh!” Richard paused. Deirdre could hear someone shuffling close to the older man and whisper something about him having “the living daylights knocked out of him”. Then, she heard Richard say hesitantly, “Mr. Brighthall, your personal visit here means a lot to us, and we really, really want to honor your request. But Sterling, well, he’s—”

He also loves to pretend he's self-made when he inherited his entire fortune from his father. Richard's smile tightened. Always so direct, Damien. It's one of your more… abrasive qualities. "I prefer honesty." Damien's voice had gone dangerously soft. Now if you'll excuse us, I see someone I actually want to talk to. He guided me away before Richard could respond, steering us toward the bar with practised ease. "Friend of yours?" I asked. Vulture would be more accurate. He signalled the bartender. Richard Sterling has been trying to undermine my acquisitions for years. He also spreads rumours about anyone who threatens his position.

THE CLEANUP CREW ~DAVID'S POV~ I stepped over the threshold, my boots sticking slightly to the floor. Brad Sterling lay face down on his expensive Persian rug, a halo of dark blood rising around his head. The bronze statue Richard had used—a heavy, modernist abstract piece—lay dumped next to him. "What the hell happened?" I demanded, my voice tight. Richard shrugged, wiping a splatter of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. It just spread it further.

Moriah’s POV “Sorry I’m late.” Michael Sterling said as he walked majestically to where I was sitting and grabbed the seat in front of me. He looked haggard like he was coming from the pit of hell. He wasn’t the Michael Sterling I used to know, the Michael Sterling I married. The huge masculine Michael Sterling now looked like a beggar. He looked pale and hungry with visible scars on his arms and neck. Just how much was he suffering and what kind of life was he living? Not like I cared though, he was no longer my business.

The passenger manifest is encrypted, but the billing address is tied to a Montgomery Holdings subsidiary. I locked the screen, the pale blue light reflecting off the dark glass. Richard wasn't waiting for next week. He was bringing the ghost into the city tonight. I walked into my study, sat behind the massive mahogany desk, and opened my laptop. If Marcus Sterling thought he could return to this city and finish what he started twenty years ago, he was severely mistaken. I wasn't the helpless teenager he left behind in a ruined house anymore. I had the resources, the power, and the absolute lack of mercy required to bury both him and Richard Montgomery under the weight of their own greed.

"Yara, this is Richard Sterling. He owns the ice we play on." "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sterling," I said, offering a polite, measured smile as I extended my hand. Sterling looked slightly surprised by my composure, but he took my hand, bowing his head slightly. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Quinn. It takes a very brave woman to handle our captain here. He isn't exactly known for his charm off the ice." "We understand each other's boundaries, Mr. Sterling," I replied smoothly, a double meaning that only Kieran would truly catch.

"Women who carried the Thorne blood and were thrown away when they became 'unstable.' Mothers who refused to let the Council take their children. Daughters who ran before the 'tests' could break them." A younger woman stepped forward. She had a jagged scar across her throat and eyes the color of a stormy sea. She looked at my tattered blue dress and my muddied face. "She’s fresh," the younger woman said. Her voice was harsh. "She smells like him. The King of the Tower." "She is the Sterling girl," the old woman said, and a hush fell over the cavern. The only sound was the crackling of the fires and the distant drip of water. "She survived the fever in his own bed. And she carries a Prime Hei