Absolute Dweller Novel Novels & Stories

I am no more Ellaine Quinn but Dwyne. A successful doctor who lived, achieved and got everything on her own by herself the whole time. And this is my war with this man. —----------------------------------------------------------

“No, they closed tonight out of respect for Joe, but they’ll be up and running tomorrow night. That’s why I got a room upstairs.” “Fuck. I was going to leave tomorrow, but fuck that. I’m going to see if I can stay on an extra night.” “If you can’t, I suggest you sleep in your car. This place is the jewel of Arizona,” D.W. bragged. “How’d you find out about this place? Joe tell you about it?” the black guy inquired with excited interest. “Fuck no, I told him.” “What!” “Yeah, you know what a pig sty Joe’s house was, right?”

I smiled, violently wiping the tears I couldn't fight back as I told myself—the old Yvie Grant was dead and I would live only for myself. As I returned inside to my quiet corner in the orphanage, a big black sedan soon stopped outside the gates of the orphanages. Soon, the caretaker was leading an elderly gray-haired man inside, and the other children were at once abuzz, flocking toward him like a swarm of locusts to present their gifts. "Hello, Sir!' "Let me sing for you, Sir!" "Can you look at my drawings, Sir?" I alone sat at that quiet corner, looking like a complete outsider.

He had returned to zero, but with a far heavier burden of sin. That night, Dewangga did not go to a luxury hotel. He no longer had access to any of his credit cards. All his accounts had been frozen. With the little cash left in his pocket, he rented a unit in a low-end apartment on the outskirts of the city—a decaying building with moldy walls and a frequently broken elevator. The unit was tiny—perhaps only a third the size of his old bathroom. The mattress was thin and musty, and the noise from the street seeped through the cracked window without restraint.

He sat limp and then sobbed with a feeling of emotion that was overflowing in his chest. The mining village still looked the same as it had in Bowen's memory. The Dwarf houses were constructed from teak wood and steel frame houses. The magic gemstone shone along the path as light. The dwarves made the light so that it was sufficient to illuminate the path, yet its rays did not radiate outward. The Dwarves covered every gap well and provided multi-layered protective gates leading to their settlement. Each gate had several traps and paths of misdirection, so it was not easy to find this place's location. The only way to get to this place was to take the miner member hostage and force him to sh

Inside, it was equipped with a bathroom, kitchen, a small family room, and a simple yard with green plants that created a tranquil atmosphere. Initially, Altezza had built the house for his late mother, Delila, solely to commemorate the past. And after that, the house was inhabited by Olivia's foster sister—Ivana—after she woke up from a coma and learned that she was not an ordinary person but the daughter of an extremely wealthy family. Olivia used to live there when she was asked to take care of Raihanna, Ivana's daughter.

His dead body was laid on the floor covered with a white sheet with people surrounding him and a woman over his chest as she wept like a woman who is sincerely in vain at his departure. While me. I sat out of all those people away from the body leaning back to the pillar with my legs cuddled to my chest, my hands around my legs as I looked at her with zero expression as the tear strains on my cheeks itched. I'm outcasted from his people while I'm his wife. I don't understand anything. I was married just yesterday and I became a widow today. And no one came to console me but strangely three women who are his mother, aunt, and sister were consoling that particular woman while I am staring at t

It was their first night in the new city—a night full of anticipation, mystery, and feelings no one had known before. Adel, the diligent young man living alone in his house, found himself a new role in the lives of the two women who carried their secrets with them—Nelly and Naomi. The house next to his became their new refuge, a place unknown to anyone else, a sanctuary that protected their privacy and gave them a chance to rebuild their lives away from the city’s prying eyes.

"The village elder was asking for you. He wants to know if you can help him draft a letter to the district office about the water pipes. It seems your 'way with words' is in high demand." Dewangga laughed. It was a sound of pure relief. "I think I can handle a letter about water pipes." That night, a storm rolled over the mountains. Thunder echoed through the peaks like the ghost of a distant war, but inside the hut, the fire crackled with a comforting warmth. Dewangga sat by the hearth, the laptop on his knees. He began to type the first chapter of his book. He wrote about a boy who lived in a house of glass, where every word was a stone and every smile was a mask. He wrote about the moment

I took the pen, the metal warm from his pocket. "One postcard," I agreed. "Maybe two."I stood up, and he followed, finally standing on equal ground in the fading light. We walked back toward the Jeep in a comfortable, heavy silence. I had a world to see, and he had an empire to master.As I navigated the Jeep away from the park, I saw David looking out the window, likely expecting the familiar route toward his glass-and-steel penthouse. When I bypassed the turn for the Financial District and headed toward my neighborhood, he glanced at me, his brow furrowed in quiet confusion."Change of plans," I said, catching his eye with a small smile. "If you want to know me, you have to see where I actua