Tristan Rory Novels & Stories

Vivienne was stunned by Tristan's question, unable to hide the shock on her face. She lowered her voice and said reproachfully, "What nonsense are you talking about? Of course, he's your father. Everyone knows you as Tristan Carlson." "No, I'm not Tristan! I'm Ricky!" Tristan suddenly roared, his white teeth biting down on his lower lip. He tried to contain the emotions building up inside him for too long with every fiber of his being. The name "Tristan Carlson" had always felt like a shackle, binding him from a very young age. He had assumed becoming Tristan would mean having a father but realized he was still fatherless, even without a mother now.

Gritting his teeth, Tristan speaks with a low, seething voice, his words laced with anger and warning. “I am not my cousin,” He asserts his identity, forcefully reminding Elizabeth that he is not Dominic Bradford. “My name is Tristan. And you get this in this tiny mind of yours, “The underlying implication is clear that she should be cautious with her words and actions, for he is a different person with different boundaries.

There was no way my heart could take another heartbreak. I saw that Tristan was on Tv now with a reporter. Why is he granting an interview right now? “…there has been significant speculation regarding your relationship with Miss Cross,” the interviewer was saying. “There is no speculation,” Tristan replied evenly. “Seraphina Cross is my wife.”

He lazily looked at the older man. Tristan was the grandson of Gerome Crawford, his grandfather’s best friend and a previous senior member of the board. Tristan replaced his grandfather when the old man retired five years ago. Currently, he was also the vice-chairman of Rosworth Pharmaceuticals. Like Calix and Wren, they grew up together and he treated him as his older brother. His forehead was wrinkled in a frown and his green eyes were asking if he was okay. Sven could feel that all eyes were now on him and when he means all, that includes Rune who like Tristan, had curiosity obvious on her face. She would surely blush if she knew that she was the reason why his mind was floating in the mi

"What are you thinking about so intently?" "Nothing," I lied, my voice sounding thin and brittle. "Just the celebration. It’s... a lot to take in." Tristan stepped closer, the scent of pine and sharp anxiety filling the space between us. "You’re a terrible liar. You’ve been staring at those woods for twenty minutes." He caught my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Don't worry about Rune. He might be coming, but I promise you, he won't be leaving. I’m going to kill him tonight, right in front of you."

"Don't make it up. Don't poison me with fake news. I am Tristan Quartararo, the only son of Andrew John Quartararo and Gracia Floy Quartararo." Once again, Alfonso laughed, seeing how Tristan was trying to deny the reality in front of his eyes. But he tried to understand it. "I'm not making this up. You need to know when the accident happened to you a few days ago. Did you know that Raphael donated your blood for you? Yes, your blood types are the same because they are related." "It could be a coincidence," said Tristan disapprovingly. "My blood type is even the same as Edward's father. So I'm the son of the Cullen aristocrat who got mixed up?" he said mockingly.

Then Declan grudgingly pulled his weapon, offering it to me hilt-first. I curled my fingers around the leather handle, feeling the weight of it. Feeling the rightness of it. Behind Alpha Orion, his Beta Zachary began to dismount, but Alpha Orion shook his head at him and looked to the dark-haired warrior I’d flirted with on the shore. Tristan, you will test Andronika ’s prowess.” Tristan. My confidence crumbled at his name, realization of who he was hit me like a battering ram to the gut. He was Alpha Orion’s son and an Alpha in making.

Roth rolled his eyes exasperatedly, “Tristan, could you drop the act already? I know you are mad, else you would have never called Craig. I know you well enough.” At this, Tristan looked up at Roth and said coldly, “Learn the difference between mad and hurt, Roth, and you don’t know me half as well as you think you do.” With sorrow clouding his eyes faintly, he rested his head on the crown of his bed, closing his eyes and softly said, “I need to rest - hit the lights on your way out please.”

Zoriana melted into the lavender aroma of her bath. She had spent over an hour soaking in the bubbles, desperate to scrub away the feeling of the rogue leader’s dirty gaze clinging to her skin. Now, she lay surrounded by foam, her eyes closed as her body finally began to relax. Despite the warmth, she couldn’t escape the cold reality: Tristan had deals with the rogues. How could the same man who told her the truth about her mate—clearing Gael’s name even though he despised him—have arrangements with criminals? This was the man who loved his son, who was brutally honest, and even kind in his own silent way.

Tristan said. Billy as been Tristan's friend since they were young and he became his personal assistant when he started his company ten years ago. Billy was the only person that knew Tristan's face. Tristan and Billy had another friend named Ethan, he is the owner of Lamwills Entertainment where Tristan and Billy often spend their free time. Not even Ethan knows that Tristan was the owner of Grayson. Tristan decided not to tell Ethan because he was known to have a big mouth. "Do you want me to find out more about her?" Billy asked Tristan.