This Man Book Novels & Stories

I tucked her into bed and said gently, "Tomorrow, you'll go to your new school and make new friends. Let's leave all the unhappy things behind us, okay?" Yvette nodded. That night, I lay down beside her. We'd both had a long, exhausting day. Soon, we drifted off to sleep. After dropping Yvette off at school the next morning, I headed to report in at my new company. On the way, I happened to scroll past a new post from Susan on Instagram. It was a photo of Harold and Jacob. In the picture, Harold was listening intently to a doctor in a white coat, while Jacob sat obediently beside him.

I stretched my hand towards the box perfectly aware that whenever I corrected him about this kind of reference that he made towards me, he got pissed. "It just contains brief reports about him. His business and wealth, extensions and bla bla bla. It's not as if he is going to be interviewing you or something. Just so ..." "So you guys actually published a book about this man?" I ask in disbelief as I handled the spiral bound pieces of sheets that had turned to a heavy book. Just yesterday he had thrown the bomb at me about Rodrig coming to the villa and now he was here with a textbook that I needed to finish? "Not me. You did." He coughs.

Portraits lined the walls ancestors, perhaps, or trophies of conquest. Her guide led her through a long corridor and stopped before two tall oak doors. “Wait here.” He disappeared within, leaving her alone in the dim light of the corridor. Amelia’s pulse thundered. She wanted to flee, to run back into the storm, but her pride anchored her feet. Moments later, the doors opened. “Enter.” The voice was deep, measured unmistakably English. She stepped inside. The study was vast, its walls lined with books and ledgers. A fire burned low in the hearth, casting amber light across a large mahogany desk. Behind it stood Ryan Ashford, taller than she remembered, his shoulders broader, his expression c

I blushed, shook my head, and cleared my throat. “I mean, I’ve been planning to give you since you solved the assignment. The book is very important, it costs the owner’s life.” “What?” he asked in surprise. He’s too young to know the story of the book. The book isn’t popular because it’s the author’s first book. He was a psychologist and also labelled a psychopath. What he wrote in the book was facts about human nature, how to read people and how to make them respect you at all costs as their boss.

I preferred my books to people, and my imaginations to reality. One evening, as I was casually returning back a stack of books to the shelves, my eyes scanning the names for their proper places, I noticed a man sitting in the far corner of the library. He was deeply focused on a large, ancient-looking book, his brow furrowed in concentration. I paused, looking at him curiously, and I found myself stealing glances at him, intrigued by his presence and level of concentration in my peaceful domain.

It might not have been this severe, but he had also fallen into drugs. Returning to the country without them triggered violent withdrawals, and he frequently harmed himself. Instinctively, I stepped back. As I passed, Thayer’s eyes widened, locking on mine. Then, with immense effort, he raised a trembling hand, freezing everyone in place. I took a few steps forward, my gaze hard, knowing he had words for me. Through clenched teeth, he said, “The Fairchilds chose you for profit. This marriage… You won’t find happiness.” I smiled faintly and replied in a voice only he could hear, “It doesn’t matter.”

Even most of the nine could not compete with him on that level. After Mane picked that manual, the other books disappeared. A bright light was once again released from the 3rd mountain. This time, a prepared Mane did not have to close his eyes. When the lights faded, there were a cluster of books hovering around him. Unlike before, he did not read their descriptions before making his decision. No, his hand reached for a manual before he could even think.

“I’m with Maven.” “Oh?” My eyes went on the man reading a thick book next to my Tia. He’s my cousin from my father’s side. He’s five years older than me. We were close, but not really that kind of close. We’re just casual with each other as Zero. “Maven.” He closed the human anatomy book before meeting my gaze. He’s wearing specs, making him look like a hottie nerd. When she left, he buried himself in medical books. We were surprised when he told us that he would pursue the medicine.

Another one roared. "Can someone call security?" The others suggested. "Don't worry, ladies. I'll handle this." They all looked satisfied when a man walked towards Marionne. He looked like in his mid-40s, yet still, look formidable and elegant. "I know you, Marionne, right?" Marianne felt like he was showered with ice-cold water. The man in front of him was the father of Ava. "Uhm—yes—yes, sir." He struggled to answer.

He is a man, a mafia man. I slowly walked over to the car. He didn’t look too pleased with my actions, but hey, what the fuck did I care? He was just a big bulky gangster man, a mafia man. I took my bag off my shoulder, slipping in, placing it on the floor of the car. He slid in, closing the door. “Belt.” “Yes sir.” I said sarcastically. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you Kacey.” “Really I thought it did.” I said, strapping in. He did the same and the car pulled away. “So what business do you want to talk with me about?”