Theodore Dreiser Novels & Stories

"Mr. Grant, don't you think you're flattering yourself? Revenge against you? Who do you think you are? "If anything, I should thank you for being so determined in stopping your parents from taking me back. Otherwise, Carl Simpson wouldn't have adopted me as his granddaughter, nor would I gain my present accomplishments… So why would I hate you at all?" My words were indifferent, but also knives that cut deep into Harry's heart. Still, his eyes soon lit up, and he laughed as if he had won. "Carl Simpson?! Bullshit! Did you think that changing your last name to Simpson makes you related to Carl?! Dream on! Someone like you won't even make it through their front door!"

Opening the door, Christiana stood in front of her. "I forgot my handbag and umbrella at your house." "So sorry for the inconvenience." Her voice was laced with remorse. Staring at her, Daisy Hunter said," What, No, it's really okay…I too forget my stuff in people's homes." Daisy Hunter said, smiling gleefully, exposing her perfect dentition. Stepping into the dimly lit room, Christiana spotted her handbag and umbrella, grabbing it, she thanked Daisy and stepped out immediately.

Maybe I really wanted to go home, and didn't notice it immediately, I just only realized when we had already left the bar. I am Kimora Beatrix Lucien Gomez, daughter of the fucking Alessandro Gomez. I can't just agree with what men want. That will never occur. The moment won’t come. Never in my current lifetime and never in the one after that. I have already sworn that for a long time. On Monday, I got out of bed early. I have to commute since I don't have a car. I decided to have breakfast at Starbucks first. I was quietly eating my ensaymada when some guy approached me.

Fred says as his voice begins to break and his eyes fill with tears. "And it tore me apart to see you so sad. I decided to make it my mission to get my shit together for you. Because I wanted you to see that even though I was the total opposite from your pops...a man that had it all. A good family, a good business, and a good career. Then, look at me? A high school drop out, struggling from pay check to pay check. You remember when you came? We lived in the outskirts of town on a rundown mobile home." Russell smiles, lowering his head and sighing.

It's like I've stepped back in time. I make my way to what looks like a formal dining room, taking in the luxurious drapes pooling on the floor and the enormous crystal chandelier sparkling over the massive dining table. My eyes pan right and I stop, suddenly drawn to the fireplace mantle. Above it is what looks like a family portrait and as I take a few steps closer, I instantly spot him. Atticus.

I got off Nicholas’s land and went back to my home. It was nothing more than a shell except for the garage. Everything I owned had been in that house. I had always moved everything with me because I didn’t own much. I had other cars in other areas, and my finances were in banks, so I was still okay financially. It was the emotional things I had lost. I went to where the garage used to be. This was going to be a mess to clean up. My anger took over again, and I went hunting.

he said, "What do you want to know?" I thought for a moment. "What's your name?" I asked, "Your real name." He smiled, "Theodore." "Theodore," I repeated. He let out a short laugh, "Not what you were expecting?" I shrugged, "I was expecting Lucifer or Hades or something along those lines," I said. "No. Not quite," he said with a grin, "The name Theodore means a gift from the Goddesses." I narrowed my eyes, "Hmmm. A gift to who exactly?"

THEODORE Novaris Holdings was an enterprise built from loss, sweat, and toil. At the top of the empire sat Theodore Lucian Banks, on his black leather throne, carved from the quiet arrogance of success and the cold permanence of survival. The chair had been commissioned from Italian craftsmen who spoke reverently about legacy while measuring angles and stitching perfection into every seam, yet Theodore often thought it less a symbol of victory and more a monument to endurance - proof that he had outlived every circumstance designed to break him.

It was all too much to bear. Drake, despite being one of the most sought-after Hollywood actors, felt small in comparison. Sure, he was famous—adored by millions, the subject of gossip, headlines, and countless interviews. But none of that seemed to hold the same weight as Theodore’s quiet, deliberate success. Theodore wasn’t just a public figure; he was a force in the business world, commanding respect from those who mattered, making decisions that shaped the future of the Thatcher family. It wasn't just about cameras and red carpets for him—it was about control, influence, and power. And Theodore was born with that ability, as though the world simply handed it to him.

“I have not actually thought of that because, all I have been thinking is that there is no way I would win. How would I make her fall for me, when I am someone else in the day and someone else in the night? ‘’ “How soon is the full moon?” “It’s four months away.” “Wow! Then you have wasted enough time. You need to start acting fast Ichab. Odin is not resting you know.” “I know.” He replied sadly. “I just don’t know where to start from.” “Wait, what kind of a lame name is Ichabristhough? Is that a first name or what?” “It’s IchabrisNuel. When the witch kept casting the spell, she kept mentioning ‘Odin’ and that was how I became someone with double personalities. I guess it was just okay for u