Novel & Cerita The Legend Of Old Gregg

He turned to me and smiled brightly, “I know we don’t look much alike anymore, but that’s just because she has aged.” I glanced at the wrinkle free dummy before I looked at Greg, not able to miss the look of expectation in his eyes. “It’s lovely to meet you, ma’am,” I choked out, struggling to keep my thoughts to myself. Greg scowled at the dummy, huffing slightly as he muttered in a barely audible voice, “no, Grandma. She is nothing like Lucy.” He must have seen the confusion on my face as he shrugged and said very nonchalantly, “Lucy was my ex wife. We had to let her go… she just didn’t fit.”

“But what I am about to say may be difficult for you to accept.” I hold his gaze. “Then say it already. What do you seek in my territory?” Greg clenches his fists at his sides, his jaw set before he speaks. “Your pack holds something that is ours.” Whispers ripple through my warriors, but I remain still, watching him closely. “And what exactly would that be?” Greg swallows, drawing in a slow breath. “Our Alpha had a mate before he went missing during a war,” he begins, his voice calm, though there’s weight behind it. “We searched for him for weeks, until news reached us that he was dead. Soon after… his Luna disappeared. She ran.”

Greg only realized the question when he heard it come out of his mouth. There was a time, though brief, when he had been mad at his father. He remembered asking the same thing at his mother’s funeral. Watching them lower her casket to the ground brought out all the emotions he had bottled up for so long, so when everyone else had gone, he lashed out of the last person by his mother’s grave—his father. A glare was all he got in return, though. And Greg had been scared by the domineering Alpha leader of one of the most prominent packs in the country to ask again. But he was older now. Stronger. He had someone he loved now.

he agreed, “And look at the authorization signature at the bottom.” My eyes traveled down the page to the scrawled, sharp signature in black ink. I recognized it instantly. It was the same signature on the land deeds I first thought Lucian had snatched for himself when we just got married. Until I learned whose signature it was. Gregory Blackwell. “Your father,” I whispered. “He’s dead,” Melanie said, leaning in. “Everyone knows Gregory died in the rogue wars like Twelve... fifteen years ago.” “Dead men don’t sign shipping manifests for illegal nuclear material a month ago,” Lucian growled. “He’s been alive this whole time, operating from the shadows.”

Thankfully he was feeling refreshed, he donned a shirt and picked his armor and sword and put them in place. Gregg was probably waiting for him in the courtyard; they had arranged a duel to help them forget the pain for a while, and to help Earl think. When he reached the courtyard, as expected, Gregg was already waiting there for him, he appeared to be in a very deep thought as well. With his back to him, Gregg was dressed in a simple shirt, trouser and shirt, his sharp blonde hair was glistering and flying with the wing. Earl thought Gregg looked very beautiful standing there, it was a wolf blood thing, something to do with his wolf regularly being fed. Unlike Earl, Gregg enjoyed taking ne

She felt like throwing up as she frowned and looked at Greg in shock. He actually did it. What a brutal man. "My leg… Greg, you… My leg!" "My dear sister, you're a darn cripple now, too," Greg said as he played with the pist in his hand, the smile on his pale face sending chills to everyone's spine. Winnie was shaking as she gritted her teeth and stared at Greg. "Why, Greg? Why did you… I knew it… The company in South Astram... It's you… It's you, isn't it?"

"It's the elderly man, Mr. Gregory; he is in Pennsylvania now and wants to meet you. We still need that old undying bone; his status in the country is enough as long as he is still alive. I want you to accompany him in Pennsylvania and convince him to invest in our company. Remember, our company, not yours. We don't need his money; we just want to make use of his face to handle most problems. If others hear that he is part of our business, they will have to tread carefully." "You know that old man and her grandfather are very fond of you. I'm sure you will get his approval faster; he currently stays in Hershey Hotel. Take care, grandson." The phone beeped and disconnected. I held his phone,

Claire hummed softly as she leaned against the wall with her eyes closed. It was an old French song that Elias sang to her years ago. Some sort of lullaby sung during to the royal children the early Capetian dynasty, back when the French were called ‘Francs.’ It was originally a Troubadour’s ballad about a young noblewoman learning to dance with her milk brother, and how they secretly fell in love. He had hummed it in the beginning, back when the pain kept her awake and paralyzed, when it was all that she could think of. She hadn’t even remembered that he was the one who taught it to her until she went to sing the words under her breath and realized they were Old French, not English. That ma

It was like trying to put out a forest fire with a water pistol. Greg was laughing on the other end of the phone. A deep, belly laugh. "Man, listen to that zoo," Greg chuckled. "Since you had kids, you never want to go honey-hunting anymore, dude. You’re always too busy 'babysitting.' You used to be fun, Ben. You used to be a legend."

" The old man is very accomodating, he does not have too much visitors on his place. and when he recievea news that Gregory Smith wants to meet him he readilly agreed. "The young man beside you is my grandson." Gregory declared to the shocked of both men. "How can you say that? Lucas is my son. I have lost him for a year and now he's back." The old man contradicted. "How can you say that considering you didn't see his face? You just realy on the words of others that says he looks like your son." Gregory said. He doesn't want to break the old man's beliefs but surely the man infront of him is his beloved grandson.