Emperor Mark Grayson の小説・ストーリー

"I am infertile. So, what's the use of sexual intercourse when I can't get pregnant? I know you only meant that so I would conceive, letting this nasty empire practice on my child like a lab rat." Hannah Grace's dead glare was chilling. Gray looked away as he stood. He realized she was right; the Charles Empire would use his attraction toward Hannah Grace as an opportunity to create a perfect, natural killing machine. "You still don't realize it," she scoffed, looking down at him. "They are using you, too." She jumped down and continued playing with her brother. They both enjoyed themselves while Grayson stayed in the corner, rethinking everything she had said. "I can use a condom!" Gray sho

the emperor whispered before getting out of his seat and quickly headed to his mother’s side. Carefully, the emperor supported his mother until she was safely seated next to him on the platform. “Sorry, I’m late…” Shin whispered to me as he came to stand by my side. “Thank you, Shin,” I whispered back before I smiled at him. “You will tell me everything about this later…” Ren hissed. I could feel the Dowager Empress’s eyes on me, and I wondered if Shin had told him about my pregnancy yet. He probably has; otherwise, there was no way that he could convince someone like her to come here.

"I thought you said the Emperor did not want to be disturbed?" Inal asked stepping back out of the dark room. "The emperor has gone on a stroll and asked that if anyone comes looking for him I should tell them that he doesn't want to be disturbed," Tiartu said. "Mother, I am glad to have found you here, "Aranar Enlim said. Aranar Enlim was the crown prince and he was just nine years of age. He had been looking around for his mom for a while.

He was already displeased by the presence of an outsider in there but had no choice but to keep quiet about it since everyone else thought it was too tedious to go down every time to order drinks. There was no way he was going to tolerate Rose’s unreasonable babbling over that. “And I can expect some respect from you at least in front of an outsider, yeah?” Rose spat in annoyance as she mimicked Ryan’s tone to rile him up more. “If you two are eager to grab each other’s throats, do us a favor and take it somewhere else.” Alfred Grayson, the next heir to Grayson & Co. and a corporate attorney, overlooks the legal matter of most of the top empires in the city including, the Evening Conglomerat

he leaves the word unsaid. “Or else what?” Malisha asks angrily knowing exactly what he means. “You know what I mean Malisha, and I am sure Mark here knows what I mean to,” he says. “His name is John,” Malisha says angrily. “I don’t give a flying fuck what his name is Malisha. I will end his life if he should be here. Tell him to leave,” Grayson says. “Since when did I obey your commands? I’m not your subject, Grayson,” she says sternly.

Everyone wanted to know the guy with no expression on his lower face and a black mask covering his upper face who could dance too well to be a mafian. Curiosity. That's what is going to make them so invested. That's what is going to make me so announced. I, Ariel Winter D'Angelo, the next ruler of the Empire. I'd finally gotten what I wanted. What I spent 12 years of my life targeting. My hand went to my leg in that instant and I swiftly removed the knife which I had placed there in the restroom. With the last beautiful and glorious turn, I pulled closer to The Viper's chest and sent the knife in.

Back when Summer and the others treated her that way, wasn’t it because they were certain she would never be able to turn things around in this lifetime? Well, now she had. Not only had she turned things around, but the person backing her was Christian from Hogarth Group. Evan looked at Gray. “Don’t you know what kind of place this is? Is this somewhere you people can act wild?” “Whether we can or not, haven’t we already done it?” Gray was a refined, middle-aged gentleman from Eirden. Even now, he still carried a mild, elegant grace. Yet even so, there was a sharpness in his bones that could not be ignored.

“Sir, the Mark angle is working. Look!” The central screen shifted. Headlines updated in real time: “New Allegations Emerge: Mark Grayson’s History of Abuse Surfaces.” “Leaked Recordings Show Grayson hitting his wife until she passed out.” Good. Good. Push harder. “Don’t stop until Mark’s name is rotting in the gutter,” I growled. The kid nodded like his life depended on it. I shut my eyes, locking my hands behind my back, forcing myself still. The storm was shifting, the tide rolling in my favor.

He sat in his driver seat and looked at nothing. The phone was in his hand and his hand was at his side and the screen was black and somewhere behind him through the closed doors the celebration was continuing. Marcus Grey. In one week that name had gone from a piece of information delivered by a president in his living room to a commissioner flipping fifteen years of loyalty with the casual confidence of a man who believed he had just upgraded his protection. Marcus Grey had been back for three weeks and he had already turned one of Dimitri's most reliable assets.