The Chestnut Man Novels & Stories

Roseane didn't lie to her. There was no ambiguous photo in Chester's folder. Some of them were all about a few schemes and forms. The earliest one had been five or six years ago. Eliza frowned and silently clicked open the document. There were some photos of the road view. Chester looked older than he was now. He wore tattered clothes and stood in a cold courtyard, washing dishes. The man's hands were frozen red, but his eyes were very focused. The next one was him mopping the floor.

Xander That night, Father stands from his seat next to me. “As a token of gratitude for how you’ve welcomed us, we would like to offer you this chest, hand-painted by my own mother in anticipation of our trip.” That is our cue. I reach under the table, and at the same moment as my Beta, Corwyn, lift the three-foot-long chest onto the edge of the partially cleared banquet table. Nonna’s delicate brushstrokes swirl across the slick, black surface in reds, greens, and purples. Father is lying, of course. Nonna’s hands shake like the last autumn leaves of late; she painted this chest some years ago, and he stored it in one of our rare water-tight rooms for an occasion such as this. But it has th

Or that the door had not been fully shut. Half-asleep, I felt something large rubbing against my chest like a giant cat, ticklish and impossible to ignore. Frowning, I pushed at it with my hand. But it only pressed closer this time, becoming bolder, shamelessly teasing the most sensitive parts of my body. "Mmm… stop…" I slowly opened my eyes, dazed, then froze in shock. That was no cat. It was a living, breathing man. He was shirtless, his bronze skin strikingly sensual under the light. His chest was broad, his abs sharply defined, the lines running down his waist disappearing beneath the blanket.

he mutters, tugging the jacket tighter around her. “You should see what he keeps in the glove compartment,” River adds, smugly. “It’s either a hoarder’s shrine or he’s starting a cult.” The man’s jaw tightens. “You went through my stuff?” River shrugs. “Your stuff was already going through a crisis.” “Also, who pees in a bottle and lets it rest?” A flicker of something — maybe guilt, maybe regret — moves across Chester’s face. He doesn’t say anything. Just look at the girl in the jacket, far too big for her, her messy hair tied with an elastic band that used to be on someone’s wrist.

It wasn't until Chester appeared that the atmosphere began to let up a little. Chested walked down the stairs. He was wearing a loose white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up slightly, exposing his muscular forearms. He looked very classy and elegant as he descended the stairs with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses framing his face. Jonathan's face was tense. He didn't say a word. Richard stabbed him with his staff. "Greet him!" Half a minute later, Jonathan finally opened his mouth and greeted Chester with great dissatisfaction. "Uncle Chester."

I felt like I was floating on a cloud of gold and magic. The introduction with the Businessmen in the room went smoothly. I got lots of deals from a few people. This stirred more happiness in me. It turned out that the masquerade ball was not a bad idea after all. We just finished speaking to Rowan, the richest man who deals with online businesses, when another man approached us, and Alexander's face immediately darkened as his grip on my waist tightened. “Long time no see Alexander. I see you got yourself yet another toy to play with. You never seem to change”, the man said with a chuckle.

Some murmured and some gawked at the magnificent man who killed the meat on his bare hands alone. Six months ago Knight Ambrose had been wandering through the forest outside of Winterberg late one nightfall when he had unfortunately lost his way. Spotting a minor lodge he had ridden to it and knocked on the door needing to get guidance. The old squeaky door had been answered by a white-haired middle-aged woman who had invited him in. The shack was full of spices and herbs. Their aroma was almost too much to withstand, regardless, Ambrose soon got used to it. After inquiring and receiving directions over a tea to the village he interrogated the woman what it was she did there.

I expected the woods to feel ominous, but I felt like I owned them. We hadn't even cleared the perimeter of the hut when a man stepped out from behind a massive oak tree. He wasn't a wolf—I could tell that immediately—but he wasn't a normal human either. He was tall, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit that looked entirely out of place in the mud. I recognized him. I’d seen him in the periphery of the pack's business, a shadow in the background of the local government offices. "You're the one," the man said, his voice a smooth baritone. "The woman making Rohan absolutely lose his sanity."

He despised socializing or staying out in public and always sneaked around the shadows like a rat. He enjoyed hunting women as if they were prey, quietly observing with none the wiser. Such excitement only drove him crazier with delight. - Ten minutes later, the door lock clicked audibly, and Zac sneaked into my room, clearly sober. I felt his weight pressing down on the couch as he sat right beside me. He didn't touch me even though I had supposedly passed out. I hid a smile and decided to raise the bet and turned as if bothered, my fingers brushing against his cheek.

Chapter 14 1213 words Update date:2026-03-02 00:38:22 Cathy recoiled in disgust, her fear momentarily forgotten as she took in the man's appearance. His skin was caked with grime, his nails blackened with dirt, and his hair hung in greasy tangles around his gaunt face. Even in her terrified state, Cathy couldn't help but compare him to Magnus, with his clean, muscular form and piercing blue eyes. Everything about this creature was the opposite of Magnus. "Who... who are you?" Cathy stammered, trying to keep her gaze averted from the man's nakedness. "What do you want?" Though she had a sinking feeling she already knew. The man grinned, revealing a mouthful of rotting teeth. "I've been watchi