Willard Stiles Novels & Stories

he then faced the entire employees who stood up shortly after he had stood up “Meeting dismissed” Stiles arrived at his office and was dumbstruck to see a document on his desk. Having a puzzled expression on his face, Stiles spoke through the intercom “Anita you are needed in my office right now” He leaned down on his chair and crossed his arms on his chest as he stared at the document in front of him boldly written *A letter of appeal*

She has not seen Alden in a while, but Reagan, who had access to the pack house, said that he looked unhappy, and even the king spoke about it. She was aware of the reason for his moodiness. If all this could just end and they would allow them to be together, she would put the Stiles incident behind her. Sadly, Stiles probably had people watching them. He was a beast. Alden would never rape a woman, no matter how endearing he found her. Stiles said that he found her lovely and attractive after having a wife. It was appalling, and the incident was still fresh in her mind. Stiles made her shiver in bad ways.

I tried to lift my arm, to reach out and take his offered hand, but the pain searing through my muscles was excruciating. My bones felt like they were made of liquid lead. My arm dropped back down into the bloody snow, entirely useless. I was completely naked, shivering so violently my teeth were clicking together. Stiles noticed. He didn’t hesitate. He immediately dropped his outstretched hand, shifting Mael securely into the crook of his left arm. He stepped carefully over the gruesome, decapitated remains of the wererat and crouched down right beside me in the snow.

Dominick asked as Paxton shrugged. They went through the files and found Stiles’s recent killings. Somehow Dominick froze upon seeing his birthday. The day and year when Lord Stiles’s wife died unexpectedly. He picked it up and all of them were silent. There’s a small flat phone and somehow, it turns on and there it plays. Uncle Stiles in his tuxedo, strangling his wife. “You sl*t! I will fucking kill you! You won’t have the throne, but my children will. Useless piece of shit!” He even spat on her face while the woman was struggling to breathe until he broke her neck. Instead of remorse~~there’s craziness in his eyes.

Riven. As much as I didn't want to think of what I had just seen, I couldn't really help it. My mind was stuck, like fucking stuck and glued to what my eyes had seen today. First of all, I knew Stiles to be a Casanova, a very promiscuous dude—flirty, always engaged, with women of course—and I thought that it could be the reason why he had created that space for himself because I already knew his dorm was a no-no.

Howard staggered and narrowly missed hitting his head on the wall as he fell to the ground. He spat out and realized his saliva had turned bloody. “Damn…when did you get so much strength….” He groaned as he clutched his chin. He looked up to see Eleanor glaring down at him. “I told you don’t touch my stickers! Stay the heck away from my stuff! Hand them back to me this minute!” “No…” he refused, hiding the stickers behind him. Eleanor became very furious. Her fists clenched and her breathing suddenly hiked heavily.

The billionaire prince that was caught up in some sort of trouble. This time was something else. It felt as though people were expecting something more of him. That what it is. Expectation, Will thought. He’d showed his cards, and now they waited for him to play his hand. “Excuse me,” a timid voice spoke. Will looked and an older man was trying to speak to him. “Yes?” “You don’t know me, but I worked for Stewart Industries as a young man many, many years ago. It was still a small company then. I met Mr. Conrad Stewart. He was a good man. I was devastated to learn of his passing.”

He nods, looking like he's a second away from weeping. "Let's go, Roger." I look at the man. "My name's Stiles Weddler," he says stiffly. "I'm the CEO's assistant." "Then perhaps next time start off with introducing yourself instead of barking orders," I say scathingly. He flinches. Whatever power trip Stiles is on is not my business. But I have no problem burning any and all bridges right now. I'm already planning to resign, so I don't really care who I offend. And I don't really like Stiles. He's too arrogant.

I hand the controller to Dean and stand, following Jake to a quieter corner of the room. "I just received a random call from a guy named Harvey Stiles," he begins, his tone cautious. I frown, waiting for him to say more. "Apparently, there’s a will reading for William Crawford... and I am invited," he blurts out. My brows knit together, confusion etching my face. "It’s been years since he was killed," I clarify, trying to piece it together. Jake nods, his gaze shifting to Dean before meeting mine again. "I know! That’s what makes this so strange."

After the woods has been arranged and the corpses have been put on it, all the Alphas who are present, are given a stick with fire, to light up the wood. Alpha Elias wanted me to give a motivational speech to the werewolves. But I tell him. “If they are not motivated by these dead, innocent, werewolves on this ground, no words can motivate them.” After lightening the bodies up, we all stand there in absolute silence. No words is said to anyone. After a few minutes, they start to leave the territory. Each Alpha approach me, telling me it’s good of me for doing this for Alpha Tate. What they don’t understand is, I did this for my own peace of mind. I didn’t want to thoughts of leaving the bodi