Starr Carter Novels & Stories

We both sat down, and he started, “Why did you change your name?” “I didn’t. He forced it on me”. I narrated the whole ordeal to Zayn from when I woke up from coma until now. “In summary, It’s been hell. The Carter we knew back then isn’t the same one in this house.” “And I swear, I would kill him!” Zayn seethed, his hands clenching and I immediately interlocked our hands, “We need a solid plan. Carter has so much authority and power in this country.” I said, trying to calm him down. “I think he has mental issues, I think he gets the thrill from killing people.”

Yvette thought for a while and said, “Sister Yuna, this is just a trivial matter. Maybe he wants to leave because there’s something urgent. Let him go.” “No, the venue’s just been cleaned up. I’ll be showing my basketball skills on the stage in a while.” Carter Coen suddenly intervened coldly. “What if he got some sand on the stage and it affects my performance?” “Where’s the security? What are you waiting for? Quickly take him away!” Carter became popular by showcasing his basketball skills in his performances. In truth, he didn’t enjoy basketball at all. On the contrary, he was obsessed with cleanliness. Therefore, he often pressured the staff into making sure that the stage was absolutely

“May I come in?” “No.” The answer came instantly. Elena nodded, almost approvingly. “Good. You shouldn’t trust me.” Sheila folded her arms across her chest. “Start talking.” Elena exhaled softly, shifting her weight as she leaned against the hallway wall. “Three years ago, Carter orchestrated a scandal involving Atticus,” she began. “A fabricated doping allegation. False, obviously. But convincing enough to nearly end his career.” Sheila’s heart skipped. “I’ve never heard about that.”

“Yeah, that’s Logan Carter.” There was a round of Oh's and ahs from the group at the window. I heard my phone buzz on the table with a notification. I closed my laptop down and grabbed my things. A lot of the office stayed at the window watching as I exited. I must admit they were correct; he looked exceptional. He was wearing dark jeans, a crisp white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. He was leaning against the bonnet of a car I didn’t recognise.

But Sarah had no excitement, as she knew who the hell was CEO, Niall Carter. The person whose all the managers leave the post after working with him for a month only. The Ambition, stopped by Mr Johnathan Edward Carter, Niall Carter's father twenty-five years ago was the company that has never dropped down from the top five best companies of Asia since its last twenty years. After Mr Johnathan joined politics he handed over his company to his son Niall Carter.

“There was one person Maria trusted. Her personal accountant. Carter Reynolds.” Caroline’s stomach twisted. She remembered Carter well. Quiet, reserved, always lingering in the background. The perfect person to keep secrets. “If anyone knows where Sarah is, it’s him,” Caroline said. “We need to find him.” *** Tracking Carter down wasn’t hard. He still operated from his luxury office downtown, pretending nothing had changed. Caroline and Ancelotti walked in, pushing past his secretary without a word. Carter looked up from his desk, his expression turning to panic the moment he saw them.

CNN: “SEX RING LINKED TO BILLIONAIRE DAMIAN CARTER—47TB LEAK SHOWS YEARS OF ABUSE” BBC: “VICTIMS ARE MODELS, RICH KIDS, RUNAWAYS—WORLD AUCTION SYSTEM BROKEN” Vice: “THE GHOST STAR WHO TOOK DOWN THE CARTERS” My face—from the pool, water on lips, eyes wide after everything—was on screens everywhere, from New York to Tokyo. I looked like a story. Like a danger sign. I shut the laptop. The radiator made noise. A siren passed outside, lights flashing red-blue on the alley, then gone.

Combat boots. Cropped black hair. Tanned skin. Sharp, angular features. A cigarette hung from the corner of his lips like it belonged there. He moved like a man who owned the place. With a low whistle, he flicked his car keys into the air. The valet caught them cleanly with practiced ease. “Good evening, Mr. Carter!” the valet greeted, bowing slightly. Bruce Carter—the name carried weight. Heir to the Carter family, one of the city’s top four households. A childhood friend of Everett.

Adam "Staff Sergeant Adam Carter took command when his squad leader, Captain Pablo Herrera, was wounded and unable to lead during an attack on the US embassy in Syria. Carter heroically began to battle the attackers, allowing his squad to escape. Unfortunately, Carter was captured and held prisoner for several months. While a POW, Carter was brutally beaten and stabbed repeatedly. After several months of searching, a rescue unit of Navy SEALs located Carter at a hidden base in southern Syria. Carter had multiple stab wounds, burns, and other unspeakable injuries. The doctors' main concern was Carter's leg, nearly shattered after suffering twenty-five bullet wounds. Carter had MRSA and gangre

he said, his attempt at politeness grating. I didn’t move, just shifted my eyes to his hand and back to his face, making it clear I had no intention of shaking it. He withdrew it awkwardly and stood there, stiff. I walked to the table in the center of the room, ignoring his nervous movements as he turned to face me. “Name’s Carter,” he said, his voice low and firm, no trace of hesitation. “I’m new to these parts. Spent my time running things back in Texas—kept it clean, sharp, and profitable. But Los Angeles? Different beast. Thought it was time to expand.”