2nd-glance Novels & Stories

The scene replayed in her mind, refusing to fade. Gin noticed her distraction and pleaded with her to snap out of it, concern apparent in his voice. Suddenly, Akira could no longer bear it. Overwhelmed by emotions, she abruptly fled from Gin's presence, tears streaming down her face. Guilt gnawed at her as she ran, leaving Gin behind with a murmured apology that hung in the air.

*** ~~SLOANE~~ *** I’m trying so hard not to steal glances at Knox from across the room. At first, everything was a blur—Myopia doing what she does best. I eventually caved and put my glasses back on. Squinting wasn’t doing me any favors, and I need a clear view of my target.

The silence stretched, taut and heavy, a battlefield where only our wills clashed. As we began a standoff that felt like forever, it happened. A subtle shift. It wasn't a softening of his gaze, not exactly. His glare was still as intense, but there was a flicker, a subtle disturbance in the glacial surface. It was as if something deep within him recognized the unyielding nature of my stance. He saw that I was not budging.

“You’re mine. He’ll never own a piece of you.” But when his lips pressed harder, Mara let her eyes drift open. And she let her gaze flick to the window. Just once. Just long enough to plant the seed. That night, the Second didn’t appear. Mara sat in silence on the bed, the First’s arm wrapped around her waist, his body already heavy with sleep. But her mind reeled. Had she pushed too far? Had the Second seen her eyes on the First and thought she had betrayed him? Her pulse thundered as she slid from the bed and padded to the window, bare feet cold on the floor. She pressed her palms against the glass, breath fogging it.

I steel myself for what’s to come. “I have no intention of rejecting you. You are a gift, a second chance mate for me. I don’t turn away gifts from the Moon Goddess,” he says. His fingers then move to Masuzyo’s mark on my neck. “I’m assuming, based on your mark, that I’m your second chance mate too?”

There was a huge L-shaped executive desk, an empty bookcase, a small conference style table with six chairs, and a view of the city from the large windows that extended from the floor to the ceiling. “Your welcome to add to the decor to make it to your liking, make it feel like you,” he smiled. “It’s beautiful,” I walked over to the window, took a deep breath, and let it all sink in. I was definitely starting at an executive level. “We are able to see out of the front glass windows to oversee the rest

Don’t rush yourself, else you get a wrong answer. With the sentence on repeat mode somewhere in her brain, she tried to be calm as much as she could with 45 seconds left on the screen. She looked at Funmi again and the latter gave her a thumbs up. ‘I need to be focused, just as Funmi had told me.’ At that instant, she looked back at the screen and didn’t look away until after 45 seconds when her round was finally over.

His eyes—steady, deep brown, and profoundly familiar—swept past me, then snapped back. The recognition was immediate, but his reaction was carefully controlled. There was no mockery, no venom, just a sudden, faint tightening around his mouth, a flash of something unreadable—was it pain? Disappointment?—before his face became a perfect, unmoving mask of professional neutrality. He treated me the way you would treat a priceless, but severely cracked, antique vase: with immense caution and distance. "Ms. Jamie?" Mr. Sanford’s deep voice cut through my paralysis. "Is the yuzu glaze homemade?"

She just held her wine glass and looked straight at me. I scratched my head, feeling speechless. Was she really still expecting me to block drinks for her? What was the point of her first love coming back, then? I wasn't going to swerve out of my lane for no reason. For a moment, things were awkward. Just as Stewart reached towards the glass, Evie jerked her hand away, her gaze not moving from me in the slightest. "Stewart's not in good health, so you do it." With that one sentence, my status was once again pushed to the very bottom.

If I want a translation, I'll do it myself or get someone to do it for me if I need to. And there should be no negative criticism in the comment section. Do not argue with or insult other commenters. It gets on my nerve and trust me when I say you don't want to witness my anger. Without further ado, enjoy this beautiful story, Second Chance 🙂🦋♥️