Novel & Cerita 11 Minutes

First day back in the office. I was face down at my desk during lunch when the desk next to mine started rattling under a series of hard knocks. I looked up. It was the firm's new architect, Flora Reeves. "Lunch time ended five minutes ago. You're still asleep at your desk? Don't bother coming in tomorrow. You're fired!" I told her I had just come back from a client meeting. I had been pulling all-nighters on the project for a week. She looked at me like I was something on her shoe. "All you do is take clients out, drink with them, and scribble a few sketches. "You don't even punch in. You're barely in the office. What gives you the right to nap at your desk during work hours?" I almost laughed in her face! I was the firm's chief architect. The bulk of the projects on Walsh & Co.'s books had my name on them. The firm's success was, frankly, carried by me. She saw me out of the office most days. She did not see me in another city, on another job site, talking down another client. And in our industry, most of those clients had hired Walsh & Co. because of my name and reputation. I kept my composure. "You're not in HR. On what authority are you firing me?" She said, "On the authority that my husband is the president of this company." I went still. When did my boyfriend get married?

On the morning of my eighteenth birthday, I collapsed in the pack clinic after my ninety-ninth blood donation to my twin sister, Maeve. She'd been cursed since birth—a curse that could only be sustained by my blood. Our shared bond from the womb was the only thing keeping the dark magic at bay. When I woke up, the healer told me I had developed Aplastic anemia—a rare condition where my bone marrow was failing. Years of constant donations had finally broken my body down, and my wolf, Aurora, was too weak to fight it. I rushed to tell my family, hoping that this time would be different, only to find them at the bakery ordering a custom birthday cake with only Maeve's name on it. They'd forgotten my birthday entirely, even though we were twins born five minutes apart. At first, my sacrifice was met with love and praise. Now, it was nothing more than an obligation everyone expected. My family had chosen Maeve over me countless times before. This time, I decided to choose myself. I had two weeks before I would slip away from this pack house and their lives. Two weeks to prepare everything in silence while they remained oblivious. They would think I'd finally learned my place as Maeve's blood supply. But they would never realize I was counting down the days until I disappeared from their lives forever. By then, it would be too late.

Run, Run, RUN. Don’t stop. The night was falling and like the creatures of the day, I needed to hide. My heart is thundering in my chest, echoing the sounds of the war that rage from the fields of my once loved home. That was before the coven came. Surprising us and taking my home and pack. The attack happened so quickly that no one was ready. We had no warning and after hours of waiting I was found. I had to run. Don't stop running. “CRACK” the current of magic shoots by and hits the tree to my left, my bare feet crunching the earth hard and fast. My small heart fluttering faster than a hummingbird's wings, my once sparkling beautiful dress is no more. It’s tattered, dirty, and torn. The edges burnt to a crisp and coated in blood from bodies of the battlefield that I raced away from. “Come here little wolfie,” a harsh raspy voice calls out cutting through the trees I hide quickly behind a tree to take cover to breathe, “I just want a little chat!” He calls singsong like, taunting me. He wants to find me to kill me. Ducking further behind my tree I hold my breath, my young body shaking with so much force my bones ache. Holding my breath and closing my eyes hoping for safety that surely won’t come. At only 11 years of age, I can’t fight this grown warlock... he will surely kill me like he did my parents... “Wolfie princess, where are you?” He mimics the rhythm of a child’s tune, as if I’d listen. Closing my eyes tighter I don’t want to die. I’m too young. My mind is racing, and my hearts bound t....

Everyone’s turning she had witnessed came with its surprise; Camila had passed out, and Gideon had released a howl that made the pack deaf for some minutes, but finding out she was a bastard on the night of her turning was the least surprise she was expecting. Asides from the humiliation that came with it, it meant she wasn't going to be alpha, not in Craw Pack at least. Then the surprises didn't stop as she watched the man she called Father slay her mum like she wasn't Luna, she looked him straight into his eyes while he sentenced her to a lifetime of bondage. The Wells family were fighters, and so she fought for her freedom but ended up as a slave in another pack, hiding her identity to save her life. The white wolves to whom she belonged were thought to be weak, but Isha was ready to change that narrative, even if it meant getting her white dirty. From betraying the one who learned to love her, to taking the lives of the closest persons to her, she avenged her mum's death, built an army, and got everything she wanted, except the trust of the Alpha who meant the world to her. They say you can't just have anything you want, but Isha was convinced she was born to break rules, but she underestimated who was standing on the other end of the line; Holly Smearson was not the girl to cross, not with an Alpha-in-line by her side. Isha would soon understand why the love of her life had wanted Holly by his side in the beginning. Too many lies, too many ties, a white wolf, insides too dirty.

On the day my twin sister, Alexia Cavanaugh, and I turn 22, I collapse and find out that I have late-stage cancer. Ignoring the doctor's advice to be admitted, I walk out of the hospital. All I want is to spend one final birthday with my family without a single worry. But when I arrive at the party, a server stops me at the door and tells me the venue has been reserved exclusively for Alexia. Outsiders aren't allowed in. Through the glass, I watch as my brother holds a cake and my father places a birthday hat on Alexia's head. Even my boyfriend is there, smiling as Alexia makes a wish. I stand there for half an hour, gripping my phone, before my boyfriend finally answers my call. "I was just at the hospital. I—" He cuts me off. "Ophelia, you've always been healthy. It's Lexi's birthday today. We should talk later." Isn't today my birthday too? My mother died giving birth to me. The doctor later explained that I deprived Alexia of nutrients before birth, which left her frail from the start. And just like that, everyone decided I should always step aside for my twin, who was born five minutes before me. I ball up the report with my cancer diagnosis and toss it in the trash. I'm done letting their favoritism hurt me. I've never received their love anyway, so I choose to leave for good.

Before I could shove my wife, Cheryl Craig, into the ocean, I turned myself in. The security guard frowned. "What? Are you saying that you're going to kill someone on this cruise?" I nodded. "It's 5:05 p.m. right now. In 20 minutes, I'll push my wife off this cruise ship. You need to arrest me, now." He stared at me like I had lost my mind. "You've got to be kidding! I've never seen anyone confess before the crime." He waved me off and started to walk away, so I had no choice but to start smashing things in the lobby. Only when the cuffs snapped around my wrists did I finally breathe again. In my last life, Cheryl was pushed off this very ship and fell into the ocean. Before I could even finish arranging her funeral, the police came for me. The ship's security footage clearly showed me pushing her overboard, but at that exact time, I was in a room with my father. There was no way I could've done it. I asked my father to testify for me, but he said I had already been planning to kill Cheryl for the insurance money because my company was falling apart. In the end, I was sentenced to death for murder. Even as I faced execution, I still couldn't understand it. I didn't do it, so why did everyone insist that I had? When I opened my eyes again, I was back to before Cheryl fell into the ocean.

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

It was finally the day of the auction "And now we are presented with a human who looks a little unkempt right now, but with a little care from her owner would be as good as new" the hosts voice rang over the speakers in what seemed like a dungeon used for illegal gambling. But I couldn't look much, being locked in a basement for three months without any form of light coming in, and suddenly being on stage where all attention and the center light was on me was enough to just make me shut my eyes and wait for what was to come. "We'll start with $25,000" is that really my worth. Do I really amount to nothing, that I have to be sold at an auction. "$26,000" "$26,500" "$30,000" "$30,000, is there anyone who wants to bid higher? Going once, going twice... This went in for a few more minutes and I gave up hope. This was it, this is where my life journey ends. I will get sold here then if my buyer is an organ trafficker he would probably kill me and sell off my organs. "Five hundred million dollars" a deep manly voice grunted from the corner of the room "Wow that's a very high bid...I doubt if anyone is willing to go higher than that. Going once, going twice, sold. Congratulations Mr Jimmie Hendrix, you just won yourself a hot looking toy...everyone is left to wonder what you will be doing with her tonight." Jimmie who was sitting in a dark corner of the room gave a sinister smirk and uttered under his breath "Found you!!!"

Everyone in Ieplad knows Leopoldo Vece, the Don of the Vece family, loves guns but not women—until me. Ten years into our marriage, my adoptive father, Raffaello Conti, lies dying of kidney failure. Leopoldo launches a global hunt for a donor, sparing no expense to save him. He finds her—a young, fragile woman—and spends millions solving her every problem to ensure she is ready for the transplant. On the day of the surgery, she vanishes. I rush to her home in a panic, only to find my husband holding her gently in his arms, soothing her in a soft voice. "If you're afraid of the pain, don't donate then. I'll find another donor." "Is there time?" she asks quietly. "I heard Lucia's adoptive father is at death's door." Leopoldo brushes his hand over her hair, his voice indulgent. "I'll search the world again if I have to. You're still young; this burden isn't yours to carry." As my heart shatters, my phone rings. I answer numbly. The person on the other end of the line says, "Signora Conti, we regret to inform you that Raffaello Conti just passed away. We waited as long as we could for the donor, but his body gave out five minutes ago." I return to the hospital and handle the funeral arrangements alone. After that, I call Marianna D'Andrea, the Don's mother, and say, "I agree to divorce Leopoldo. Please help me disappear."

“We didn’t say a word before we both crashed into each other’s arms and started making out. I jumped on him, and he grabbed me. We barely made it to the bed before we started tearing each other apart. It was wild. It was intense. And I didn’t want it to end. For about twenty minutes, he did things to me that had me screaming until my voice gave out, and I passed out. The next time I opened my eyes, it was morning. I was sober again... but I had no idea what a naked stranger was doing in my bed!” Viola Sterling is a billionaire heiress whose life suddenly takes a hit when her family goes bankrupt. She becomes homeless, and as if that isn't enough, she catches her boyfriend cheating the very same day. Heartbroken and drunk, she tries to numb the pain… only to wake up the next morning with a naked stranger in her bed. Turns out, he’s a billionaire who couldn’t afford a scandal. He arrogantly pays her for her silence and disappears, leaving her embarrassed. She thinks that’s the end of it until she turns up at her new guardian’s house and gets the shock of her life. The naked stranger? He’s their son. They vow to remain strangers. But when Viola discovers she’s pregnant, everything changes. To protect their families' reputations, they agree to marry. To their families, it’s an arranged marriage. To them, it’s a contract, strictly business. And it comes with just a rule… Never to fall in love!