Rory Gilmore Novels & Stories

Forbidden. Rory swallowed hard and followed the click of the assistant’s heels across polished marble. Her mind raced with reminders: *Stay professional. This is your shot. Do not embarrass Dad.* But her body had other ideas. A low, insistent warmth had already begun pooling low in her belly at the mere thought of seeing him again. The assistant knocked once on a set of heavy oak doors and pushed them open without waiting for a response. And there he was.

He’s cut off as Rory sidles up to our table. “Here’s your waters,” Rory says, placing the waters in front of us. “Let me know if you need anything,” she flushes before leaving us alone again. Nash smirks as he watches me watch Rory… I really can’t seem to control my eyes from roaming her beautiful body, the gentle sway of her thin hips that lull me into a stupor… Still it looks like she could stand to eat a few more meals… I could help with that…

“Wow, what a cunt!” Rory was on her third Long Island; and being the lightweight she is, all sense of propriety had left a long time ago. Rory had started coming along to our weekly nights shortly after we met at one of the first of Cam’s family’s get togethers that I had been invited to a little over three years ago. We got on like a house on fire, and soon started hanging out regularly outside of those family events. She integrated into the group very easily, winning the girls over with her crass charm.

In a certain private villa. Rory sat in the living room, watching international financial news on the TV. The villa’s housekeeper left after finishing cooking dinner, leaving Rory alone in the spacious villa. Ding! His phone rang. Rory picked up the phone and read the message from Mable. It only had one sentence. [I got Blair’s blood sample.] Rory smiled and replied, [I’ll come over early tomorrow.] After putting down the phone, he walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of wine. His distinct facial features were shrouded in a chilling aura.

“Actually that’s my question. Who got shot?” Rory is stepping out of the car now. Her fire engine red heels make an appearance before she does. She’s in one of those pencil skirts that look painted on and a white long-sleeve button down. I’m willing to bet a million fuck dollars that the top two buttons are undone. I don’t know if she does that with the sole intention of driving me fucking crazy but it works, all right. I didn’t see her before she left this morning and it’s a good thing I didn’t because I’m not sure I would have been able to resist bending her over in that hot-as-sin outfit.

I believe she did not hold the same significance in Celine's heart as Kenzie did. Grayson responded, "Yes, Rory wasn't difficult to investigate. We've managed to confirm most of the basic information. I've got a detailed report, which I'll give to you once I'm back. I just returned from the neighboring city and didn't have time to get it. Also, I looked into Rory's wife." Grayson glanced at me. "His wife is quite the character. No one would have expected that Louis's assistant has a wife with such a hidden and illustrious background."

I tilted my head to the side to stare at my mother and father who were seated at the front row. Their eyes were happy and filled with hope, a little look of confusion included, seated next to them were his parents who also had that look of pride on their faces. I turned my eyes back to focus on Philip who had the 'I know what you're thinking but don't try it' look on his face. Taking a deep breath I began monotonously, "I Giordana Eleanor Quinton, take thee..." The vows left a bitter taste on my tongue when I completed them. We exchanged the rings and the minister said,

Scarlett I entered a beautiful, warmly lit room with a polished, four-sitter, premium-crafted wooden dining table. The type my father had. The wood shined, and it was beautiful. The dining room was a bit ostentatious, but the alpha was rich, so he had money to spare. I was given a place to sit, I was the only one there, and I felt a bit weird. The beige dinner gown I wore was the only reason I didn't feel out of place. Who would have thought a random man I stopped on the highway would lead me here?

But this is another level of bullshit! What the fuck is wrong with the moon goddess? Is she on some kind of drug? I didn't even realize when my razor claws replaced my nails. My hand swings swiftly, piercing through Jax's abdomen. Blood, along with some jelly thingy, sluggishly seep out from the deep slice on his stomach. Probably his intestines. Ewww. My gaze falls on my bloodstained hands, an air of melancholy cloaks me from everywhere, making me feel dark and gloomy. Today, I didn’t enjoy my favorite hobby, killing rogues. I didn’t savor his shrill screams, his horror face, nothing.

The sun had already set by the time I finished work. Jaime always called this place a remote village. Every minute here felt like torture to her. I thought she would not be able to stand it and would leave. To my surprise, she waited outside my office door. When she saw me, she stood up at once and hurried to my side. “Joseph, you still haven’t told me what happened. Did your mother really die?” I stopped walking and looked at her. A cold laugh escaped me. “My mother died. Isn’t that what you wanted? Your mother’s so‑called killer finally paid the price. Are you satisfied now?”