This Man Series Books Novels & Stories

And he had a long nose that looked like a cursive L – L. “Sal Maan Roos Dee. He is a big writer. One of the biggest of all times. This man, see,” revealed my brother, showing the back cover of the book he had in his hands. The passport size photograph of the man on the back cover was exactly like the man I saw in my visions. I AM NOT KIDDING! I mean it! The front cover read: “An Extraordinary Novel” – The New York Review of Books ________________________________________________ MIDNIGHT’S CHILDREN

“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.

Apparently he really wants to help a handful of striving small businesses and enterprises to grow across the country. "Hey," I jump back startled causing my phone to fall in my lap. My eyes flicker over to the man sitting across from me. The same man who hit me with a fucking freezer door yesterday, the same man who I cursed out in Walmart, the same man who offered to give me a 'thorough examination' and offered to pay for my stuff. That's the same man who now sits across from me. His brown eyes earnestly search every inch of my face. "I'm sorry," he says at last. His soothing voice fill my ears. "About yesterday—"

Man of shade manor 2 My breath comes out in pants as my mind races with what to say. I close my eyes taking in a couple of deep breaths. "I...I-I'm alright," I whimper. I watch as he wipes the blood off his hand into his clothes. He sighs, running a hand through his long hair. He begins to undo my restraints. His soft fingers lightly caress my wrists as he removes the ropes. Once I'm released I bring my hands to my chest running my fingers over the raw flesh. The man offers me a hand pulling me to my feet. My legs tremble beneath me but the man continues to hold me upright.

I opened the door—but didn’t step aside. He looked exhausted. Tie loosened. Jacket wrinkled. The man who never lost control looked like he’d been holding himself together with thread. “You shouldn’t be here,” I said. “I know,” he replied. “But you disappeared.” “I told you I needed space.” “You resigned from everything,” he said. “That’s not space. That’s exile.” I let out a slow breath. “It was survival.” He nodded slowly. “Then let me help you survive.” “No,” I said quietly.

" CRIMSON 'Il Velo di MINE' [The Veil of Mine] Book 1 from 'MAFIA DARK ROMANCE MINE' series ________________________ **AUTHOR NOTES** Meet the 'Mafia Second Chance Romance MINE series' Family member's books:- Book 1: CRIMSON 'Il Velo di MINE' [The Veil of Mine] story of Azrael Sartori Book 2: CORAZON 'MINE Ombra' [MINE Shadow] story of Draven Sartori & Throne Sartori Book 3: CIELO 'MINE Custodi' [MINE Guardian] story of Cassius Sartori Book 4: PEONY 'MINE Sussurro' [MINE Whisper] story of Magnus Sartori Book 5: LUZ 'MINE Segreto' [MINE Secret] story of the youngest member named Seraphim Sartori.

Big enough to fit two humans because Analiese is right next to me, also trying to orientate herself. A big man in camo-type clothing was standing next to Edgar. This must be "Leader Dude'. He was oozing confidence and an I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. His face was still covered. He doesn't want to be recognized. That means they don't intend to kill us. A strange type of relief fills me. At the same time, dread fills me because he is scarier than Edgar. He's larger, more filled out with huge muscles across his broad chest and almost vulgar-sized biceps. He's wearing guns in holsters at his sides, and he has knives strapped to his legs. This man is no joke. Edgar, on the other hand, looks tiny

My gaze slowly lifted toward him. My jaw nearly dropped open when I saw the man holding a gun. He wore a red long-sleeved polo with the upper buttons left undone, exposing the tattoos crawling across his neck and chest. Even his arms were covered in ink because he had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. His hair was cut clean and short, almost military-style. I still couldn’t fully see his face in the dim light, but his presence alone was overwhelming. “So there are no more women here willing to get paid to touch you, huh? That’s why you’re forcing yourself on someone now?” the man with the gun asked coldly.

Instinctively, I stepped backward, afraid he might try something inappropriate like before. This time, the man spoke first. "Don't be scared, miss. Can't we at least be friends?" "Sorry, I'm married." There was no way I was becoming friends with some creep, so I rejected him immediately. The man didn't seem discouraged at all. Instead, he slowly leaned closer and whispered into my ear, "I know where you live. I know where your husband works, too. You wouldn't want anything happening to him, right?"

I sat in the chair nearest the door because sitting nearest the door felt like the right instinct, and I waited, and the house waited around me, and nobody spoke. Then the front door opened. The man who walked in was tall, not as tall as Damien but close, with lighter colouring and a face that shared certain features with Damien's the way different editions of the same book share a cover. You could see the connection if you were looking for it. The jaw, the set of the eyes, the particular way he held himself like he had grown up being told he was important and then at some point stopped believing it. He was maybe thirty. He was wearing a jacket that had been expensive once and was not anymor