48 Hours: A Novel Novels & Stories

My breath came shallow, weak, as if I had only just clawed my way back from drowning. “Finally.” The voice startled me. My mother sat in the chair near the foot of my bed, her posture poised yet rigid. Her hands, neatly folded in her lap, betrayed the tension she carried. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw relief flicker in her eyes, but it was gone before I could place it. “Mother…” My voice rasped, the word rough and fragile. “How long—?” “Three days,” she said softly, though there was no warmth in it. “You’ve been unconscious for three days, Ava.”

“The problem is… it’s already midnight. And we’re very far from home.” “Midnight?” Kayla asked. “How?” she said. “We’ve only been here a few hours.” While they were talking, my eyes kept darting between both of them. All I could think about was getting to Papa and nothing else. Horris spoke again, quieter this time. “Time doesn’t move the same way here.” I stared at him, not understanding. He continued, carefully picking his words. “For us inside this place, it’s only been a short while. But outside… it’s been eight days.”

Millie says digging through her bag. “Alright,” I say looking back out the window and watching little ants of people walking around. An hour later Millie leaves for her first meeting looking like a sexy little businesswoman. I’m exhausted from the early morning flight so I turn off all the lights, close the shades of the windows, and tuck myself into the stiff bed. Normally I’d complain about a stiff mattress but it’s doing wonders for my tense back. I read another chapter of my sexy, filthy erotic novel and close my eyes to dreamland.

To make sure no one dared to strip her of composure, of dignity, of that spark that was uniquely hers. Because she was mine. All of her. And no one, not Bukky, not the world, would make her feel small if I could prevent it. I stood. Chair legs scraped the floor. deliberate. No more words. They knew what that meant. “Deploy. Forty-eight hours.” They know what that means. It should run for two days, non-stop. And yes, even at night. I stubbed out the cigarette. Another test. Another blade. If Zino cut true, good. If not, dust.

Wanted to sleep standing up in his arms like I used to in the cabin when I'd still trusted him. He shoved me away. I stumbled, catching myself on the doorframe with my good hand. "Do not lean on me," he snarled. "I am not your crutch." He looked at me with that burning disgust I'd come to know so well. "You lasted eight hours," he said, checking his watch. Eight hours. My body gave out after eight hours of no food, no water, blinding light, and standing until my bones ground together. Because I'm human. Not a machine.

I bit my lip, feeling a bit embarrassed, and could only offer a brief explanation. “Farrell drives a long-haul truck. He only comes home a few times a year.” “I see…” Hearing this, Cowell nodded knowingly, though I did not notice the fleeting gleam of shrewdness that flashed beneath his eyelids. As time went by, all my heat seemed to converge on my lower abdomen. It felt as if a furnace had suddenly been activated in my core. I wanted it so badly… No, I cannot make a fool of myself in front of Jetson’s friend. That would be utterly humiliating.

CLARA'S POV The 48-hour clock began its final countdown at midnight. By 3:00 AM. I sat at the master console in Ares’s obsidian office, wearing an immaculate black suit. The high, structured collar completely hid the heavy silver band around my neck. The air inside the locked study smelled of stale espresso and the cold, metallic ozone of hyper-threaded servers.

" Chloe's intention was crystal clear. Evan also knew that he should comply with Chloe's arrangements. After all, if his grandfather hadn't forced his hand back then, he would've married an heiress from a prestigious family that actually matched his pedigree. Consequently, he did as he was told. He cancelled all of his corporate meetings and personally drove to the airport. Yet, the entire way there, his mind was flooded with memories of the moments he had shared with me. While he was waiting at a red light, a news alert suddenly popped up on his phone. "Fiona Jennings, a Researcher at the Institute of Biological Sciences, Has Made Waves Internationally With Her Newly Published Paper, 'The I

The “accident.” This wasn’t a dream. I had been sent back to the very start of the end. “I... I need a moment,” I said, forcing a smile that felt like it could crack my face. “I’ll be down in a minute.” As soon as Loanne left, I locked the door behind her. My legs felt weak, but my mind was sharpening with alarming clarity. I glanced at the calendar. I had less than twenty-four hours to prevent a murder and derail a life sentence masquerading as a marriage.

Something hidden. And in forty-eight hours, the truth would finally step into the light.