Rowan Blanchard Ethnicity Novels & Stories

Seeing how lifeless Jade seemed, Blaze was shocked and heartbroken, immediately asking, “Why is my mom in such a state? What even happened?” Zendaya looked at him. “You are…” “Blaze, I’m Blaze Rowan. I used to have her last name, Benmore.” Zendaya immediately remembered the name since Blaze had lived with the Rockefellers for a short period. However, he was just a small child at the time. Unexpectedly, he managed to grow this much in such a short time. “You’re not a fake, are you?” “I know Blaze. I even carried him before. He’s much younger than you are.” Zendaya said.

Rowan knew that Calista had a couple of interviews set up for after graduation; the only problem was that the jobs and careers connected to those interviews would take Calista away from him. Rowan was the 3rd son of the most feared and dangerous mafia family in the country, the Cromwell Mafia. Being part of that family, Rowan was used to getting what he wanted, so he couldn’t let Calista leave him. He couldn’t think or even imagine what his life would be like if he didn’t get to see Calista every day. Rowan knew that she would probably hate him to start with, but eventually Calista would forgive him and he could trust her to stay with him always.

I wear my blonde wavy hair down, adjusting Rowan's collar on my neck. My makeup is ridiculously light with a nude lipstick and nude three inch heels. I wonder if Rowan will think that I'm underdoing it. We're going to a public place, he might get embarrassed of me. I cancel all the negative thoughts in my head before I leave my room and head downstairs where Rowan is already dressed and ready. Unlike other days, he isn't dressed in a suit. Instead, he's wearing a dark blue vintage shirt with black pants. If I didn't know better, I would say Rowan and I are matching. There's no small talk when he leads me to his car and starts the drive to the bar.

He continued to stroke the top of her hair while reading through some documents. Alicia stared at his features under the sunlight. The wind blew his dark locks gently against the top of his forehead. Instead of his usual suits, Rowan wore a white button down, the top couple of buttons undone revealing some of his tanned, muscular chest. She just wanted to nip the collarbones on display. Swallowing, and ignoring the rising heat in her body, Alicia then stated something that was a little outlandish. “Could the witch be CONNECTED to the royal family?” Rowan’s hand paused.

Rowan nodded with a huge grin, dropped his gaze, and continued walking, holding onto Nana’s hand. Suddenly, he let go of Nana's hand and ran forward, as if he were running towards someone. “Rowan!” Nana called after him. “You shouldn’t run after a stranger, Rowan,” Nana cautioned, but gave up when Rowan wrapped his tiny arms around the person’s leg. “My friend!” Rowan’s childish voice echoed through the air. “Mr. Miller, w-we are sorry; don’t be mad at him,” Nana stuttered shakily after realizing that the man Rowan had gone to hug was none other than the renowned legendary lawyer, Ethan Miller.

"We're Howell’s Ava. I dare anyone to come at you.” There was that name again. Rowan told me that Iris’s last name is Howell. It sounded really familiar. Like I’d heard it somewhere. I think about declining, but I decide otherwise. Maybe I could get more answers concerning Ethan. Sure, Rowan told me that he was remorseful, but to me, he sounded like a complete psychopath. “Okay then” I agree and she squeals in delight. She tells me that they’ll be by in a few minutes before hanging up.

If she was smoking, she was ready for war. "He’s Rowan Ashcroft, Grandmother. I met him recently. He took me to New York, and a woman who hasn't accepted his rejection from years ago decided to stage an ambush. She tried to assault me in the den, so Rowan’s cousin had her removed. This video is her retaliation. They weren't a couple. They were never a couple. Rowan is a high-ranking male; she’s just a trust-fund pup who can't handle a 'no'."

My dick twitched in response. “She's an outsider.” Rowan gave me a wry smile, waiting for his cup to fill. “Nothing to do with our world.” I shot him a look. “I can read, you know?” “Just saying.” He shrugged. “Doubt she'll live long if you drag her into this.” I turned another page and breathed out a chuckle. “She'll live.” Rowan scratched his chin. “She's not a Mafia Princess. She may not have a clue—”

“Of course she does. She has been putting the blame on people all the time. Rowan leaned on the table. There was something else he said, too, that she is not alone. There’s a man with her.” I frowned. “Ethan?” That was what it sounded like, my lord. The outcast named him the forgotten Alpha. I clenched my fists. So she was able to draw the fellow into one of her silly plans. Rowan did not reply immediately. Rather he rolled out another parchment. This was in his pack, he said, and gave it me.

"One thing I've wanted to ask. You all speak Angladian perfectly, but you don't look Angladian. You look Farshyan." Aria met his gaze. "That's because Mr. Millard and I are ethnically Farshyan. We haven't made it public. There's a lot of anti-Farshya sentiment overseas, so we hid our heritage." Braddell's voice turned cold. "I see. I already sent someone to investigate, so I hope you're telling the truth." While Aria, Braddell, and Landon faced off, Sam tinkered with his laptop at the side.