Voice Of Eugene In Tangled Novels & Stories

“Mr. Boucher, do you want to watch them yourself?” Eugene grabbed the phone. Katrina shouted. “No!” Unfortunately, Eugene had already tapped on a video, and the unbearable voices that came out of the loudspeaker caught him off guard. They were his and her voice. Even Samantha’s expression changed at that moment. It now looked rather awkward. Eugene was stunned in place, and his aura became gloomier and gloomier as time went by.

"He didn't touch a strand of my hair." "I know that too. If he had, I wouldn't be here now; I'd be ending his life." "Then why are you so displeased?" Eugene asked, observing in turn Valentine's hardened eyes, the fine wrinkles between his brows, and the savage smile playing on his lips. He was visibly very displeased. "Because just imagining the possibility is unpleasant." "...Stop acting like a child." Eugene muttered with a smirk. Despite having his windpipe gripped by the hands of a killer who had likely taken hundreds of lives, he felt no sense of danger. Rather than feeling threatened, he felt...

“Rue, let’s go.” Rue obeyed him very well, completely admiring him like he was an amazing older brother and followed him obediently to play with action figures. Eugene glanced at them, then brought the tablet over to the window. “Eugene, what are you doing? Acting so mysteriously.” Why had she not noticed usually that he had so many things he wanted to talk about with her?

Eugen had a great physique, with a golden ratio and well-defined eight-pack abs that looked like they were sculpted. "Nat, there's no need to be shy. We've already done more explicit things, haven't we?" Mr. Eugen suddenly spoke up. The temperature on my face rose even higher, and I tried to cover it up by saying, "Hurry up and get dressed, I need to rest!" Mr. Eugen's hand paused, pressing on the last button, his gaze deepening. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed my head, swiftly intertwining his lips with mine.

He lifted a brow. “What?” “That the reason you’re so upset…” She tapped him lightly on the chest. “Is because you’re the most well-mannered, civilized, chivalrous Alpha I’ve ever met and obviously Max needs to catch up.” Eugene stared at her for one second then burst out laughing. A deep, warm laugh that made his shoulders shake and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Oh, please,” he said through his grin. “Are you complimenting me or teasing me?”

I lowered to her ear like it was a whisper, but it truly wasn't. "He's not my spec. I like men with broader muscles, thick voices—so I can have a child as sweet as you. Just like your father has you." I tossed her auburn hair, which was in a neatly packed ponytail and flowed down to her waist. Hearing that made her cackle heartily before the door got pushed open by Jayden, like he'd been picking on our conversation. His eyes lost their hue. "How could you say you prefer a Delta over an Alpha?" He asked sharply.

But then Carter added, “Cute, though. Investors love a good underdog act.” Something inside her snapped. She pivoted, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she faced him head-on. Her voice was calm, but her words sharp enough to slice the smirk off his face. “Cute’s fine,” she said evenly. “As long as it gets results. Mr. Chen seemed to appreciate it. Maybe you should try it sometime.” The silence that followed was almost comical. A few jaws slackened. Someone coughed awkwardly. Melissa covered her mouth, eyes wide.

A man's cologne. They walk around me, stopping behind the chair. Goosebumps rise on my skin when I felt their fingers wrap around my hair and tugged my head back harshly, causing me to choke on a cry. "Finally awake baby?" That voice. I know that voice.

"What are you waiting for? An audience?" Evangeline's perfectly sculpted eyebrows rise slightly as a smirk curls her lips. "Oh, darling. But I want you to see it coming. That's half the satisfaction." Her gaze flicks between them. "The culmination of everything we've built together." She stops behind Lucas and brushes a possessive hand over his shoulder, fingers lingering on his collarbone. He jerks away with what little strength remains in his battered body.

My hair was swept back, my heels were too high, and every eye followed me when I walked in. Including his. Dominic stood near the bar in a black tuxedo, talking to a board member. He didn’t approach. He didn’t wave. But his stare burned into me like a promise. And then Rafael walked up. Tall. Bronze-skinned. With a Spanish accent that could melt glaciers and a smile like sin. “Lana Lane,” he said, offering his hand with a sly grin. “Dominic’s intern, yes?” “I’m not an intern,” I replied.