Thirty Years Of Adonis Novels & Stories

“That girl’s been promised to you for the past five years.” His words made me halt. I whirled around to look at his face. I surely must’ve been mistaken about what I had just heard, what he had just blatantly blurted. For the past five years. That meant they had promised Mariella to me since she was thirteen and I, twenty-seven. “You did what?” I strode toward him. “Adonis,” Dom muttered, trying to pull me away by the sleeves of my dark t-shirt, but I shoved him away.

They should also know that I am fine. As I pushed the blanket away and made to get out of bed, the door flung open and I paused my motion. With an unintended look of caution on my face, I stared hard at Adonis who had a somewhat innocent look on his face. The rough state of his hair made his face look even more admirable. I soon relaxed the expression on my face and wore a small smile. "You are finally awake," he commented. "Did I sleep for a long time?" "Just three hours," he replied and made his way towards me, his hands inside the pockets of the unzipped hoodie he had on.

Adonis twitched the corners of his mouth up in a weak smile. “I’m okay. Glad to be back.” “Sup, bro?” said Tres as James led the younger boy into the circle. “Mr. and Mrs. Richards?” he said, by way of gaining their atten- tion. “This is Adonis Hunter. A good friend of ours.” Esmeralda smiled disarmingly at the sight of the sheepish look on Adonis’s face. “It’s nice to meet you, Adonis.” Tres’s father nodded politely.

I gently stroked her rough, weathered face as a tear slipped from the corner of my eye. "Ruby." For the first time in thirty years, Ruby heard the voice she had longed for. A sob escaped her lips. "I'm here, Dad." I gently patted her head. "You're so much older now." She had grown old, too, but I kept those words to myself. From the looks of it, life had not been easy on her. Whether it was guilt that had haunted her for decades or the hardships she had endured along the way, the years had clearly left their mark.

“No, that’s not it. You don’t look old; I have had a few girls lie to me about their age. I'm not all that interested in sitting in prison." Safira laughs, "It's okay. I'm legal. I'm twenty-five years old, and you." Adonis noticed her unique but lovely hair flowing as the wind blew it, her curly locks brushing gently against her skin, heating something in him. "I just turned thirty years old.” He said, taking a sip of his juice to cool his insides as he sat silently. "Safira said. “Are you celebrating turning thirty?" "Oh no. I'm thirty what's to celebrate?"

Seasons came and went. Another year passed. To me, time had become nothing more than sunrises and sunsets, tides rising and falling. Before I knew it, I was already in my fourth year in Ardenia. Professor Peter Foster looked over my research findings, his face full of satisfaction. "Nathan, excellent work. You're the only one who's produced results in this field so far. There won't be any problems with your doctorate." I smiled. "That's thanks to your guidance, Professor."

Brielle showed a trace of shyness and surprise in her eyes, "Adonis, I don't expect you to be here." Adonis smiled and said, "I notice you just now. You haven't changed too much since high school. Instead, you've become more and more beautiful and charming. How have you been abroad these past few years?" Adonis was already a successful entrepreneur. As he moved, he exuded the demeanor of a mature man. Although it wasn't a sense of teenage in high school, it was also an elite white—collar style with a mature temperament.