Uncle Ian Novels & Stories

Darren shook his head at him mockingly. “Don't you think your father should give you some explanation before coming here? Prince?” I chuckled, enjoying his miserable look… “Uncle — you are letting me go?” He swallowed hard looking at the guards behind him. “Your grandfather asked me to inform him before I make him a chief mourner, and I forgot to call him before you get here. I guess you are lucky today. You might not get that chance every day.” I smirked. “Thank you Uncle” he bowed, and bowed slightly to Darren as well. “Stay away from my wife to survive properly” I warned, and he nodded.

He looked at me like he was shocked to see a girl with Ian before. "Master," he called. "Your mother doesn't want you going out," he said. I looked at Ian for a second. Ian sighed. "I'll be back soon," he replied. The man looked a me. "This is Willow. Willow, meet my uncle...David," Ian said. In a way, I doubted that he was his uncle with the way he was looking at him when he mentioned him. David stared at him in shock. But didn't he just call him master? Or did I hear it wrong?

“Why don't you tell your uncle about it? “It’s nothing serious, Mum,” Julian said quietly like he was embarrassed. “Don’t be silly,” She chuckled. “It’s nothing interesting, Mum,” He said firmly. “I don't want to bore him.” “Unsolved cases would not bore me,” I said, leaning my elbows on the table. I could see his breath hitch in his throat. “Try me,” I raised my brows.

He glared at me, his eyes held so much hate that I couldn't even spot the warmth he had for me years ago. “They asked you a question, don't keep them waiting,” he sneered. Caleb and Lulu worked in his favor as they curiously looked at me, waiting for an answer. I didn't know what to say, they had lived calling Jun their father. I didn't want to confuse them. “Uncle Clinton,” little Chris, walked in and ran to Clinton's side. He hugged his legs.

Marcus's jaw tightened, but he stepped back, some old habit of deference winning out over whatever bitterness was clearly still eating at him. "Congratulations, Uncle," he said, and the word came out like an insult. "To both of you." He walked away without waiting for a response, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, watching his back disappear into the crowd with a knot forming in my stomach that told me this wasn't the last time I would have to deal with whatever he was still carrying for me. "Are you all right?" Damien asked, once Marcus was far enough away not to hear.

she rubbed his chest, "probably seduce you in a bit." He watched as his soon-to-be wife left the room. He exhaled and stared at the screen until the tracking dot was destroyed. They had likely cremated the body. He was about to turn off his computer when Ian’s number popped up. It was already afternoon, and he guessed his uncle would arrive at any moment. A few minutes later, MJ returned with snacks. "By the way, your uncle is here." "Hmm, let him in then." "He won't come upstairs, Harvey. He’s too lazy."

“I'm so happy to see you again.” “Me too, Nana,” Sabrina grinned. “Where's uncle Ian?” “Ian is currently in France,” Grandma said. “But he will see you soon, okay?” “Okay, Nana.” A while ago, Ian would have informed me about his travels but now, I had to learn that he wasn't in the country from grandma. I didn't need to put two and two together to realize that Ian was avoiding me. “Alright, Jo,” Grandma said. “We will talk again. Take care.” “You too, ma.” I replied, before ending the call.

He dialed Jake’s number as he locked up. Jake answered quickly. “Hey.” “Just letting you know I’m on my way. I should be there in about ten.” “All right. We’re ready,” Jake confirmed. “Marcus is here.” Marcus Channing was one of Ian’s oldest friends and someone he could always call on if he needed a hand. Marcus and his wife, Tori, were the guardians of his four siblings ranging from thirteen to twenty-one years old. It’d taken one phone call to Marcus. Ian’s lifelong friend hadn’t batted an eye when he’d explained he needed help tonight.

Everyone was having a blast on the yacht for Valentine’s Day when my boyfriend, Ethan Hayes, asked me to go tell his uncle I fancied him. “Go on, tell him. You’re a lucky girl if he actually takes a liking to you! Next time we meet, I might even have to call you auntie!” Vivian Lawrence, his childhood sweetheart, was by my boyfriend’s side, smiling triumphantly. Just a few minutes ago, they had shared a glass of cocktail. I clutched the watch in my pocket—bought with two months of my savings to make peace—my heart riddled with holes. Suddenly, a line of live comment lit up before my eyes: “I’m sick of this jerk. Girl, go for the uncle. He’s the real big shot. He’s fancied you for a long time

So he stayed hiding at the corner, watching and listening in secret. “Father is so sad,” a woman’s voice Cassius heard. Even though he could not see the woman’s face, he can recognized that it is own by his auntie, Sherly. “It is only natural for dad to fall in grimace,” a man answered. It is Cassius’s uncle, Finn; the younger brother of his father. “After all, Ian is dad’s favorite.” “Finn, lower you voice,” his wife warned her. “We came here to mourn over your brother’s death. If someone heard you, they will think that you aren’t even sad that you lost your one and only sibling.”