Theodore Laurence Novels & Stories

“Hm. My brother is a little confused. He is mistaken. He doesn't mean what he said. How can it be that you…” Before Lotus could complete her words, Theodore tucked his hands into his pocket and straightened his back cockily. He brushed the both of them with a blasé gaze and pronounced, “A certain Mr. Zaire Ludovic is a manipulative, cocky bastard who will resort to scheming in order to get what he wants.”

The heaviness eased without disappearing completely. Serena knew the public version of his story. Five years ago, Theodore Laurent had been a three-time GT champion with multiple endurance wins behind him when a crash ended a career that should have had years left in it. “What was it like for you?” she asked. “After the crash, I mean. Not the version they printed.” Theo was quiet for a moment. “Ugly, for a while. I kept thinking if I worked harder, recovered faster, wanted it badly enough, eventually someone would tell me I could have my old life back.” He looked toward the water. “Nobody did.”

Part of me wanted to throw a drink in his face. The conflicting emotions left me frozen. Within moments, he reached us. The tension was immediate. Palpable. "Lucas." Theodore's voice was calm. Too calm. Lucas looked at him. Then at me. Then back at him. "I see the rumors are true." Theodore didn't answer. Lucas laughed. The sound lacked humor. "You move fast." "Is there a point to this conversation?" Theodore asked. Lucas ignored him. His attention remained fixed on me.

“At least he talked. It something. Oh, Theodore I’m so exhausted. Too exhausted to even mourn my father. If I ever set my eyes on that witch, I will rip her apart.” “That makes two of us.” Theodore said. There was a momentary pause after that. I opened my eyes and glanced at Theodore. He was fumbling with his hands and keeping quiet. A small smile curled up my lips immediately. Theodore was hiding something. He was never good at hiding anything he found difficult to say. I shut my eyes again. “Go on. Just spill it out. I’m going to know sooner or later.” I kicked his leg, signaling him to open up. He looked at me, pitifully and he said.

Theo felt a pang of emotion as he waved goodbye, watching the wheels begin to turn and the carriage roll away. Theo stood for a moment, lost in thought as the sound of hooves faded into the distance. This was his life now. A life of simple joys and familial love. He had made peace with the world he'd left behind and now for Damian Clarke, who was now known as Theodore Mitchell, this life was a second chance and he intended to cherish every moment of it.

said Theodore in a dramatic tone for emotionally blackmail him. “Stop acting like a teenage girl! You are such a drama queen! But my answer is still no!” said Evandor calmly without showing any interest in his drama. “Okay, I thought it’s the least you can do after I killed the whole Cave wolves, Midnight Walker and Moonlight pack all together. With just that bang bang bang, they were all dead” said Theodore while making a gun from his forefinger and thumb when he was saying, ‘bang, bang, bang’

He turns around, looking at me with an unreadable expression before he sticks his index finger into the air. "Theodore," he corrects me. "My name is Theodore. You can call me Theo if that's easier for your small brain to handle," he says with much irritation. Gosh, this guy is grumpy. I finally caught up with him. We're making our way through the forest. It's darker now, and I'm wondering where we are, but I have to ask him my first of many questions. "You said Lucy's dad. Who is Lucy's dad, and why would he kill her?" I ask.

“No! It isn't rude, but it will be better if you do not feed your curiosity.” “Were you ordered to go to this meeting?” “Ordered? In what way and by whom?” “Erm… by.. the person who is paying you to teach me.” “Luca?” Mr Theodore said, laughing rhetorically. I didn't speak or respond, just watching him, feeling uneasy in my stomach. Was Mr Theodore a part of the Mafias’? “Well, if it will make you feel better, No!” “Okay. So who's the new tutor that I'm assigned to?”

Wait, was he the only fool here? So, that shattered heart on the ground—it was his? Ha. It was no wonder they called Finnegan a model soldier. Even if the world crumbled around him, he remained unshaken. But in reality? Theodore was pretty damn sure Finnegan was holding himself back with everything he had. If it weren't for Elara, he'd probably have rushed forward and punched that rascal Lesley twice already. Theodore took a deep breath. He needed to learn a thing or two from Lt. Lloyd. If he wanted to be the perfect homewrecker, he had to build up some patience!

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.