37 Days From Now Novels & Stories

Zique's obsidian eyes widened. "W-What date is today?" Damion took out his phone, looking down at it. "It's the twenty fifth..." "The...The...The twenty fifth?" Zique breaths shortened, his hands clenching by his sides. "The twenty fifth?" "What?" Damion asked. "Is it...it couldn't really be today...is it?" Gabe shook his head, shifting in his seat. "No, it's the twenty seventh...two days. We have...no he has two days."

~~~~~ Important Note ~~~~~ "Hey, guys... Sorry to bother you, but I will start the update on the 1st of July as I need a small break due to quarter-end. I have a lot of work at my office and also at home, I hope you understand. If any queries, ask me on my Insta... Wings_of_love77 You can follow me there. Happy reading and enjoy your days. Love you all and I'm sorry for not update the next three days. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Andre's POV "Twenty-three days." Victor said it as he set his tablet on the table between us. I looked at the number displayed beside the contract end date, then at him. "I know when it expires." "I assumed you did. I am reminding you because twenty-three days is no longer far enough away for us to ignore." Across from me, Francisco stopped pretending to be interested in his coffee.

I said “Deal, you will get proof of cancelled dealings with the king in three days then we leave for your country in seven days,” why in the actual fuck would he want to delay this? Shit! “Why seven days?” seriously! A deal has been made what’s the point of stalling? “Just a safety measure, after you get the proof of cancellation you will get one phone call to organize everything…entender?” ‘understand?’ he says “Si” ‘Yes’ I answered and he nods.

I gave him a warm smile and he looked back at Henry. Then he looked at the PM, who agreed with Henry and was waiting for his commitment. "Thirty days would be enough," he cleverly said instead of saying one month, which may sound too far. "Thirty days you have. Thank you for coming."

"Ouch again. Well, it is thirteen days from today." "On a fucking Saturday?" "Yes. And it also appears that my rut cycle shall me very, very close to that date."

We reached the east wing. Two guards stood outside a room. One of them opened the door. Inside, a man sat tied to a chair. His face was bruised, but he was conscious. He lifted his head when we entered. His eyes immediately found Luca. Then moved to me. His expression changed. He stared at me for several seconds. Then whispered, “She's alive.” I froze. Luca stepped in front of me. “Who are you?” The man laughed weakly. “I've been waiting twenty years to see her.”

The whole world waited. *Are you certain this is what you want?* "Yes."I said without hesitation or apology. She didn't ask again. *Then you will return.* The words settled over me like a hand placed gently over a wound. *You have three hundred and sixty-five days, Amara. One year from the moment your feet touch the earth again. When that time is done, you come home. No argument. No negotiation. No extension.* Something dropped in my chest. "Three hundred and sixty-five days." I turned the number over slowly, measuring it against everything I needed to do and finding it painfully small. "Can't you give me more? Two years, even. Surely —"

His message read as, "Ms. Esha Varnav. You need not come to work tomorrow. You can resume your work from Monday. Your new working days will be from Monday to Saturday w.e.f from next week till September 30th. Thank you! Have a great Sunday." WHAT!? "WHAT DID I JUST SEE RIGHT NOW! WHAT THE HELL? WHAT DO HE MEAN BY THIS?" "It means you have to work seven days in a week" Dua said "There is only seven days in a week" I look at Dua.

“She said this morning that she thinks the right time is now. Precisely because everything has been so heavy. She wants something to look forward to that isn’t about justice or accountability or any of it.” “She’s right,” Enzo said immediately. “I know,” I said. “So, when will it be?” “Three weeks from now,” I said. “Enough time to prepare properly. Not so much time that we lose the momentum of wanting it now.” Enzo’s expression shifted into something warm and uncomplicated, the particular pleasure of good news arriving in the middle of a year that had not offered much room for it. “Three weeks,” he said. “I’ll make sure the pack clears its calendar.”