C.c X Gregory Romane & Geschichten

3P POV: Cassandra was in her late forties, but Gregg was 12 years younger than her. He came from a rich family, and he was a well-known playboy who got in the news for more wrong reasons than good. Elena pretty much expected to meet him but not so fast. Gregg was tall, handsome with sharp features, and his thick brown hair like his sister could make any of the two genders envy. He almost always wore vested suits. “You won’t run away from home again, will you?” Gregg asked, taking out a flower from inside his vest. It was a rose that got roughed up a bit. “I picked it up from the garden… just for you.”

Now it looked like it wouldn’t be just the two of them this year. “Oh, I’m sure no one will find me even if they dig up the whole place.” He shot a secret grin at his son as they heard the woman groan, her consciousness returning. Gregory was a foot shorter than Dorian, making him almost the same height as the woman on the chair who was now glaring daggers at them with her vibrant green eyes. Like most hunters, she wore black leather pants and jacket paired with a dark green turtleneck sweater to keep away the cold. Her short black hair was in a ponytail on top of her head. Gregory took a seat on the chair next to her. A smile was on his face even as the woman bore holes in him with her glar

I exhaled sharply and pressed the intercom button on my desk. "Yes, Mr. Cross?" my assistant's voice came through immediately. "Send Gregor in," I said. "Right away, sir." Gregor was one of the men I'd inherited along with the company — loyal, discreet, efficient. The kind of person who asked no questions and delivered results. My father had trusted him implicitly, and so far, I'd found no reason not to do the same. He entered moments later, tall and composed, his expression neutral. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

" Tracy staggered back. The name registered somewhere. There was only one person in her mind… Greg. Gregory Knox.

His mischief drove me crazy, further igniting my mind to create stories and explore surprising and varied orgasms. A gentle knock on the door caught my attention, and I saw Greg’s silhouette on the other side of the glass door. “Come in.” I said, ending the call. “Perfect, Celdric Forbs, follow the guidelines, and soon we’ll be able to expand to new horizons.”

Or worse — leave me with those men with empty eyes, who didn’t seem to have the slightest hesitation in using violence. “I don’t know exactly where he is,” I began, my voice trembling. “But I know someone who might be able to find out. Someone who has access to his communication system. Not directly, but… through transactions. Through payments. Tristan is careful, but he’s not invisible. Everything he spends leaves a trail.” “Who?” “A man. His name is Gregor. He works with cryptocurrencies and financial tracking. He’s discreet. Expensive. But efficient.” I lied about the last part. Gregor was efficient, yes, but not reliable. He worked for whoever paid more. And Cassius paid a lot.

After two rings, the recipient picked up, and Greg said, “Harrison Brown. Blonde. Six-and-a-half feet. About 165 pounds. I want to know everything, especially who he’s been in contact with in the last three weeks.” “Yes, your Grace.” Greg hung up and drove home before drowning down two bottles of scotch. After that, he let his tears flow, and he threw an empty bottle at the kitchen wall with force before he gave way to his weakening feet as he fell to sit on the floor. His eyes reddened, and he thought about all the things he was going to do to avenge Lucianne if his contact told him that Harrison Brown was a hired assassin.

The men held him back. “First the information,” Goran said. “Then the reunion.” Greg handed over a folder. “Everything about the X-City development. Phase two and three. All of it.” Goran flipped through it. Smiled. “Excellent. You’ve been very helpful, Mr. Greg.” “Now let my son go.” “Of course.” Goran nodded at his men. They shoved Greg’s son forward. He stumbled. Ran to his father. Then Goran pulled out a gun.

This time, Greg was driving. - I know this evening was not leisurely for you, but can I ask you a question? - Prince asked when they left the castle, which was again invisible under the illusion. - Sure. - Katherine replied. - If it is too hard for you, there is no need to answer. When Xavier talked to you about this sadness and stuff, did you feel anything? - Greg asked her carefully. Katherine was thinking about his words long enough to make Greg regret his question. - I am sorry; it was so reckless of me to make you talk about that. - He apologized as the woman was still quiet.

Harris snorted before covering his mouth, trying to hide his laughter. Gregory looked at Harris, shocked that he was laughing at him. Gregory straightened his shirt, tugging down on it before turning and ushering his people to their feet. He turns back as if he has something to say and pauses while combing his fingers through his hair. “Are. Are there other shifters here that we should know about?” Gregory asked. Atticus sucked a breath in through his teeth as he rocked back onto his heels, shoving his fingers into his front pockets.