Steven Collier Novels & Stories

His name is Steven and he is a human. Steven: Hello sir. Me: Hello Steven. Steven: Hope you have not forgotten that you have twenty places to model tomorrow. Me: I have forgotten, can't you for God sake help me reduce the list. Steven: Okay sir, but I can only cut out five companies that are willing to pay fifty million dollars. Me: Yeah, do so.

That single sight killed the remnant of affection I held for my girlfriend—or rather, my ex-girlfriend. Steven, responding in kind, wrapped his arm around Charlotte's waist with a smug look on his face. "Men who sponge off women will never amount to anything." I narrowed my eyes and offered a chilling, mirthless laugh. "You think you're better than me, huh, Mr. Zimmerman?" Steven watched me set myself up and roared with delight. "Of course! I landed the deal in Barovia for Ward Group, while all you ever did was sleep your way to the top with Charlotte. Keeping a gigolo like you here is a total waste of company resources!"

We had lost more then half our crew in that battle. I looked out into the bliss. Out towards the direction they had left. Jazzy cautiously approached me. Looking towards the same direction. Followed by Caleb, and James. Last, Colonel Coelhelm. "We'll find them Selene... we'll find them eventually... and when we do-" Colonel said. "I will make Damian pay. I will rip his head off with my bare hands and burn him to the stake." I said. End of Flashback

“Do whatever you want. All my relatives are dead anyway.” Steven pulled out a bunch of fries like he was making conversation. He smiled. “Are you pretending you don’t know, or do you really not know? You still have family back in your hometown. You just chose to forget about them. I was deciding who to visit next. Now I don’t have to think too hard.” Victor’s eyes flew open. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Why wouldn’t I?” Steven’s tone stayed light. “Don’t forget where you are. This is East Coast. And I happen to work for Zachary Reynolds.”

His closest friend was Peter Cooley, an attorney, whom Steven had known for several years. Peter was very handsome and like Steven, very self assured. At 6'4", very muscular, he had a very commanding presence. I have never really cared for facial hair, but with his closely trimmed beard and always impeccable dress, Peter pulled it off. He was a very friendly and charming man, who seemed to like me as well. I was very glad about this, because that seemed important to Steven.

“Ty?” “NO, EM! I already lost you once; I won't lose you again,” he says, making me dumbfounded. What did he mean again? Like a flash, he was gone, leaving me with most women and kids, along with a few guards ordered to protect us. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ Lucian's POV "Lucian Dannelly. You should give up now!" I hear the voice of my tormentor snicker as silver shackles strain my hands and feet. Wesley Slate has captured me along with his sadist girlfriend, Hope. She's an evil sadist.

' thought Annie. Francois watches Annie leave while he answers his phone. “Hello.” “Hey Frans. It's me. So, I had a look on the name that you gave me, and we have about three people in the Uk who have the name of Steven Cole. One is, as you already know, the friend of the dead Dr. Kenny Jones that you asked before. The second one is a teenager in Belfast and the third one is a pseudonym of a writer in one of the magazines. I’ve already checked that out and there is nothing fishy about it. Also, there is a Steven Cole on one of those dating site but it was a fake name. The user had left the site so his profile was already deleted," he explained.

I cock it, ensuring they can hear the imminent trouble approaching. Among the group, I choose to press the barrel against the head of a newer hunter, though I know the names of all the men who work for me. He has black hair and a tattoo adorning the side of his neck. Logan. His shoulders tense as he feels the cold metal of my gun against his skin. "Mr. Morris," he greets me, his voice trembling weakly. "Have... have I done something wrong?" His friends shift their attention from him to me, their beers held tightly in their hands.

“You're right. When we find that bastard, we are going to make him pay with his life. Blood must spill, Moreno.” “And blood will definitely spill, but we need to work together. Pull our resources together because, let me tell you, we aren't fighting against a street thug. Damien is working with a man named Steven Crowley, who is an ex-military strategist, which means that he has a lot of weapons and tools at his disposal, and we need to tread carefully when it comes to him.”

Clinton stood beside me as the instructor set up the board. As we climbed onto the board, Clinton took the lead. He positioned himself first, feeling out the balance and control of the flyboard. With a powerful surge of water from the jets, he lifted off the surface, rising into the air with ease. I watched, breathless, as he soared above the water, his movements smooth and confident.