A Miserable Little Pile Of Secrets Novels & Stories

-V* My stomach plummeted, a nauseous twist that stole my breath. Secrets? What could she possibly know about me? Flashes of my past assaulted me—careless college flings that ended in heartbreak, the family's crippling financial woes before Alexander's intervention swept in like a savior, or perhaps something darker, buried deeper, like the one-night stand I'd regretted but never confessed. Or was it all bluff? "What does she mean?" I whispered, my voice small.

“I suppose it’s time to give credit where it’s due,” Michael clicks his tongue. “Every family has secrets as we all know it. A chink in their armour. A skeleton in their closet. Something that is dark and ugly and utterly humiliating. The secrecy that no one wishes anyone to learn. But can you imagine what catastrophe these secrets can cause if they land in the wrong hands? Can you imagine the power it gives you over those fools? It’s unimaginable. You should try,” he laughs maniacally. “It’s like a drug, I promise. It’s hard to get enough of it.”

Life. Did I have a little life starting inside me? Everyone seemed to think so. The idea of the three of them discussing me like some kind of lab rat still made me see red. Secrets again. Ethan knew I did not do secrets. I just cannot handle them and I doubt I would ever be able to. When I am the last to know things, even if they are small, it takes me right back to that moment when I first saw the video of me on that pool table being... fucked like I was nothing but trash. Worthless. Ugly. So very ugly. It's my hang-up. My cross to bear. I hope there comes a day when I can close the lid on that Pandora's box and keep it closed, but it's not happened yet. Since meeting Ethan the lid has been

It read, “Your secrets won’t stay buried forever. I watch you closely. Your happiness is misplaced.” For a moment, the world seemed to tilt. I stared at the note, the words burning into my mind, and I couldn’t help but feel the walls closing in. Secrets. Everyone had them, but mine weren’t the kind you could shrug off. They weren’t the kind you could let see the light of day. And whoever had left this note knew that. They knew enough to use it to taunt me first before anything else. My exhaustion only made it worse, muddling my thoughts and amplifying my paranoia. I glanced around, scanning the hallway for any sign of who might have left it, but there was nothing—just the distant hum of acti

The open diary, the small secret, slips from my hands and drops on the floor with a thud. It’s me.

He finally got the paper, and after scanning through it for less than a second, he said, “You tell me!” he handed me the paper, and it read. “This is just the beginning, Scarlett, and remember, no secret is hidden forever!!!” “What is the meaning of this nonsense?! How are you related to these people, Scarlett?” He yelled as he tucked his gun into his pants. “I have no idea; I swear, I really don't know who these people are and what they want.” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “Where’s Maria?” “She left,” I answered. Then we heard sirens, and there was a knock on the door.

Jamie disappeared without a sound, leaving us alone with the ghosts in those pages. I flipped the first file open. The words blurred then sharpened with terrible clarity. Each line punched the air from my lungs. Bank transfers. Secret meetings. Compromising photos. Every dirty secret Alex thought was buried. My knuckles turned white around the edges. "How—" "Please." Rolin's chuckle was dark velvet. "I breathe this air." Typical. The man collected secrets like others collected art. I kept reading, the room shrinking with every page. My ex-husband's life unfolded in damning detail:

The questions swirled in my head like a storm I couldn't escape. I barely registered my mum leaving the room, the door closing behind her. A moment later she returned with a small white box. “Take it,” she said, giving it to me. “It's better to know for sure.” My fingers trembled as I reached for it, slowly removing the packaging. Holding the stick in my hand, I walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I sat on the toilet seat, the stick in my hand as the minutes passed by, each second feeling like eternity.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Don’t I? I think between the both of us, you know I'm right” Her smile widened. She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping low enough that only I could hear. “See, the thing about secrets, Vivienne, is that they always leave traces. And once you know what to look for, they’re not that hard to find.” “I don’t have any secrets,” I said tightly. “You’re imagining things.” “Maybe.” She tilted her head, studying me like a cat toying with something small and trembling. “But you know what’s fun about imagination? Sometimes, it’s right.”

Sarcasm laced every word. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I added quickly, grimacing. “It’s already bad enough I want to puke every time I see Andrew’s face.” I didn’t want to lie, but spilling the truth was off the table too, so…I hovered in that messy in-between. Kate raised a brow. “No, no, no. Not buying it. You’re going to spill everything. All the details. Right now.” Ugh. Why did we ever make that stupid “share every secret” pact in the first place?