Novel & Cerita Uncle Ian

A new message appeared,from an unknown number. Elias’s expression hardened instantly. The message read: Unknown: Stay away from Layla. Elias’s eyes darkened and slowly… he smiled. He couldn't imagine what gave the little boy the audacity. He ignored the message and went back to his work He shook his head slowly and muttered. “I'm your uncle,you brat.”

"I don't want to live anymore! My niece is driving me to death! My son is a manager at a major corporation! I'll have him expose all of you to the press!" Ian merely raised an eyebrow, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number. "Hello, Mr. Powell? It's Ian Lowe."

“Who is it?” “It’s auntie Nancy, little man. Open up!” Nancy knocked again with a grin drawn on her face. “Auntie!” Ian jumped in her arms, sobbing louder than before. “What’s wrong, Ian? Is Stella fine?” Nancy furrowed her eyebrows. “Uncle John just kidnapped mommy.” Nancy kneeled down, cupping Ian’s cheeks between her hands. “Calm down now. I’m here.” She swiped his tears with her thumbs. “I’ll call your father.”

he screamed and slammed the pen holder hard over the floor. My uncle stood up from his big chair and glared at Ivaan. What is happening here? I've never seen Ivaan talking this rudely with my uncle before, especially when we were small. He used to love this father so much, to respect him so much. Then what happened suddenly, which changed the whole personality, to his advantage? "Ivaan, uncle," I said while stepping into the office. "Bri," my uncle's eyes lit up when he saw me.

I exchanged glances with Ivan, arching my brows in question as I picked up the gun. “My uncle wants you dead by the end of today.” He announced. My head spun around, trying to process his words. He had just an uncle, and that man was Ivan’s father, Jorge Hernandez. “My father wants him dead?” Ivan repeated in shock, shaking his head in denial. “Yes, he hates Tiano, but till the point of death?” He shook his head violently, waving his words off. So trusting. After watching his father's actions during his three weeks of coma, I knew he was a bigger devil than I was.

But i immediately ask him. "Who are you?" "Where are my manners. I am Ian, your new neighbour"He tells me extending his palm towards me. I take it, my mouth forming an 'o' when everything falls into place. It was typical of my mother to tell our names to anyone new she met. Looking at him now, i saw that he was not a year older 18. He had broad shoulders which made him look older but his face made him look innocent and young.

'Here is your avocados, I picked the best for you"' 'As always uncle, you are the best!' 'Stop joking with me. Even if you praise me hundred of times you will never have another discount for today.' 'Is there discount tomorrow then?' 'Hah, you brat' 'Just kidding' And so before he leave he did the same. 'Keep the change' They both said in unison making Ian laugh 'Btw, tell Ien my greetings' The old man said as he smiled and wave Ian a goodbye. And by that, he went to the hospital where his brother is admitted.

“…is uncle Rafe.” The boys look at each other, rage and horror on their faces. Ian spells it out. “If neither of the five fallen Betas is uncle Rafe, and none of the six we saw back there are him either…” His voice fades off as he shakes his head. “Then,” Alvins says, angry and confused. “Where is Uncle Rafe?” “He is cheating,” Ian growls, rage lighting his eyes. “What a snake.” “Come on,” Alvin says, starting to climb down the tree. “We have to go tell papa!”

Mary said, getting to her feet and heading to the door. “Yes, son, go on,” Anthony said, cutting out a piece of meat. “Hey, guys! Look who it is!” “Uncle Ian!” Megan screamed, springing to her feet and then jumped on the man. “Easy there, kid.” The man said, then gently dropped her on the floor. “I came bearing gifts.” “Hey, Uncle Ian.” Liam greeted unenthusiastically. “What up, Liam?” After the exchange of pleasantries, their uncle Ian sat by the table and enjoyed dinner with them.

Uncle Grant had ordered takeout for me, and the delivery had arrived just now. After my parents passed away, not only had Uncle Grant paid for my studies, but he had also always worried I might not be eating well. That was why he would buy me good food every few days. He was the closest person I had in this world. Yet, I had almost crossed that line with him just now. I hugged my knees as I sat on the couch, staring into nothing. His reaction to me earlier had clearly been a man's reaction to a woman. How was I supposed to face Uncle Grant after this?