Harrison Wells Dc の小説・ストーリー

"Rivera." "That's the one. Fancy clothes, dramatics, the whole package." Harrison mimed an effeminate gesture that would have been offensive if I cared about such things. "Stayed for almost two hours. Made lots of phone calls, I can only imagine he was reporting the breakin to your Ex." "Anything useful?" "Well, here's where it gets interesting." Harrison leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I did some digging on the foundation board. Guess who's sitting pretty alongside our fashion plate?"

As security guards are pushing people back, I can here them scream his infamous name. Shit. Sebastian Harrison is early. ** "No, I don't care who they are put them on hold and don't answer anything, Darcy! Do you understand?" I'm running through Harrison Inc. With my purse in my hand and heels on my feet, I'm actually running through the lobby of Harrison Inc. like a crazy woman. Sebastian, when I make it to the lobby, is no where in sight, but security is definitely heightened inside the building, as more security guards linger on the premises.

“I'm so sorry, Mrs. Harrison… I was thinking… How did Mr. Harrison find such a beautiful wife?” Heidi wrapped both arms around herself. The veil wasn't enough to prevent the cold from seeping into her body. “Do you live in this city? Mr. Harrison originates from Phoenix City and his whole family is there. Phoenix City is much more civilized than GreyHills, but he kept you in this Villa instead. Uhm, may I ask?” She lowered her voice. “Are you perhaps his…” Trailing off, the maid gave her a knowing look. As she spoke, Heidi's gentle smile gradually transformed into a subtle frown.

I walked Nathan to the entrance of the ward. Nathan nodded at me and waved goodbye to Daisy inside the room. "Goodbye, Daisy." "Goodbye, Nathan. Don't forget to visit me, okay?" ... The Third Person's POV On the opposite side of St. Paul's Hospital, a black car had been parked for half an hour. Harrison leaned against the car's body, a cigar half-smoked between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the white building across the street. "Alpha." As his beta, Rick, crossed the road, emanating a frigid aura, Harrison finally redirected his gaze.

Harrison Wells found us within ten minutes of our arrival — a compact, sharp-eyed man in his sixties who moved through the room with the authority of someone who had spent decades in boardrooms and had recently revised his understanding of what authority was for. He shook my hand with the direct, firm grip of someone who meant the gesture. "Ms. Davidson," he said. "I owe you an apology. The Cole Enterprises board should have looked harder at the governance of that family years ago." "You acted when it mattered," I said. "That's what counts." He looked at me with the assessing gaze of a man revising an estimate upward. "You are considerably more gracious than the situation requires." "I'm not

I smiled putting both my hands down to my lap, calming my legs. "Okay...I will be going now Declan. An officer would be here to assist you to your cell." Mr. Harrison said standing up, going to my side. He then bent down inching his face closer to my ears, whispering, " I hope that you are having the time of your life. But think twice, that's my only advice. To all honesty this is insane, I've read your files...and...and be careful here. Keep your eyes open, they are all watching." He tapped my shoulder lightly before he got out, leaving me alone to pend for myself. I sighed deeply. Not long after Harrison's departure, the door opened up to yet another officer.

“Yeah?” He nodded, focusing back on the road. “His name’s Carter Wells. Used to be an investigative journalist. He was looking into the Hazelwoods before Edward died. Drake had me hire him.” Something in her chest tightened. “What happened to him?” Lucas’ jaw tensed. “He stopped.” She frowned. “Why?” Lucas didn’t answer right away. Instead, he made a sharp turn, taking them off the main road and into a quieter part of the city. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting long, distorted shadows against the cracked pavement.

She’d have to actually be vulnerable. Selectively. Surgically. But actually. Something clenched in her chest. Page thirty-one, buried in the middle of a section on early business history was about a man, Harrison Cole. Senior partner at Blackwell Holdings before Xavier had graduated. The official record said he’d retired early for health reasons. A single notation at the bottom said he’d died in 2019 in a Connecticut assisted living facility having lost everything he’d once owned. There was no further context. She made a note. Harrison Cole. Find the full version.

It did look like someone had violently thrown them all to the ground, but there was not a trace of even a footprint in the house. Among them, Harrison's spies immediately reported the matter to Harrison. When Harrison heard the news, he was so shocked that he was shaking all over. He immediately called Hank, who turned to look at Charlie and asked, "Mr. Wade, it's Harrison. Should I answer it?" "Yes." Charlie nodded. "He's probably calling to ask about the operation. Just tell him that you rushed in after hearing the noises inside but didn't catch anyone. If he asks about the power outage, exaggerate it and subtly suggest that there might be a mole within the family."

Doctor Harrison gave me another quick once-over—less intense this time—then nodded. “I've put him in Room 4, down the hall, second door on your right—it's a quiet zone to keep the sensory input low. Go ahead and see him.” As we started down the hallway, I couldn't resist glancing back. Doctor Harrison was still standing there, his hands in his pockets, watching us—or rather watching me with an unreadable expression. Great. Just what I need. To be a doppelgänger for some tragic, probably deceased Kansas mystery woman.