Steve Adventures Novels & Stories

Katherine’s voice was calm, but her fingers tightened around her parents’ hands as she gently led them toward the living room where Steve was standing. “Mom, Dad… I want you to meet Steve. He’s my husband.” She swallowed before continuing. “This is Nerine, his daughter. And this is Luke, his friend.” David and Leonor both looked at Steve at the same time. If they were judging purely by appearance, the difference between him and Richard was obvious. Steve stood tall and composed, even with a bandage wrapped around his arm. There was something solid about him—quiet confidence, the kind that didn’t need to prove itself.

Steve replaces my need for caffeine. Mr. Steve: Visit my warehouse after you are free from school. Let's discuss a few things about your interests, my business, and your future. Aunt Mary and Loraine have been right. Mr. Steve has got something shady rolled up his sleeve. But I've got nothing to lose so I send him an okay. My future. Nobody knows what will happen an hour later. My choice of career and his business are too far to foresee. I just want a content life, rescued from my past and with Celeste in it.

I ask him warily, trying to wrack my brain to remember where I know him from, but I draw a blank. “Oh, you don’t recognize me?” “No, I don’t.” “I’m the male lead actor on the project you're working on, but I can see why you don’t recognize me. We haven't officially met, but I do recognize you. My name is Stephen Adams, but you can call me Steve.” He introduces himself. It is then I realize why he looks so familiar. Steve is one of the most famous actors in the country and has been named the sexiest and most handsome man of the year several times by several magazines.

I gasp. Inside the secret room, a blond, middle-aged man—Steve—is frantically stuffing jewelry into a travel bag. He spins around at the sound of my voice, the bag slipping from his grasp. Seeing me, his eyes widen in shock. “Rylee? What are you doing here? You’re not—” He hesitates, his face twisting with some unspoken emotion. “Forget it. This isn’t the time to talk. Get out of here. Leave me alone.” I glance at the open travel bag on the floor. It’s filled with gold and clothes. I recall Steve’s complaints about the pack’s financial struggles. Where did all this golds and jewelries come from?

His eyes were wide and they began to look over my body, the clothes I wore the first day were covered in blood and barely hanging on my body, he was wearing a black shirt and a pair of shorts. He had a large cut on his forehead and there was blood surrounding it, that's probably where Jonas knocked him out. How did he get to Steve? I looked back at Jonas and he was smiling at me. "Why is Steve here Jonas?" He approached me and placed his hands on the arm of the chair. He leaned closer and I leaned back. His eyes hardened and he slapped me. "Dont fucking move away from me bitch, dear Steve is here because first he is going to act as a representative of Adrian, since the little fucker is dead

Adrian was looking a bit weak, but he walked closer and closer to the chair as if he’d want to sit on it to catch some breath. And it’s only when Steve heard the voice that he realized that Peter wasn’t at least joking, and he’s pretty right this time more than times when Steve had to get fooled by Peter’s pranks—and he hated those moments so he tried to be careful about falling for his pranks. “Master,” Steve muttered. He dashed forward in an instant and caught up with Adrian who seemed like he’d drop to the floor at any second now.

"Too many people don't know how to have fun." Erin laughed as she shook her head. "Peter, the philosopher." "He's right, though," Chelsea said. "Too many people get stuck in their routines and become sedentary in life. They need to get out and explore more. Take some chances. Have adventures." Marybeth tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "Chelsea Davenport likes taking chances? When did this happen?"

Even Steve's employees don't know who Steve is; he keeps his identity a secret. Shane Morris, a longtime buddy of his, is the only person who is aware of his true identity. No one else does. Before Steve's return to Western Australia to take over the family business, he was hidden away in another nation for several years so that the press would not discover his true identity. Even since he was born, Steve was a strange entity, and neither of Steve's parents could explain how he had come to be that way. They take care to conceal him, and maintain his profile as low as possible rather than letting him interact with the outside world.

The faint smell of rubber mats, metal, and sharp cologne. No one at the front desk. Just the low hum of the air conditioner. I’m still looking around when I hear boots—heavy, deliberate—coming from the hallway that leads to the offices. The next second, Steve appears. No gym shirt this time. Just black joggers slung low on his hips and nothing else. The tattoo sleeve on his left arm continues across his chest—one long thin line under his left pec, another across his lower ribs. He doesn’t smile. He just looks at me.