Novel & Cerita Accidentally Yours Pocket Fm Ending

Authors note: This book was previously titled, 'The Accidental Wife' as the author and the rightful owner of this book I have made the decision to change the title to Accidentally Yours. The story in its entirety remains the same and the only changes will be the cover and the title of the book. Thank you! Happy reading. **** “MISS HART?”

Is this some kind of prank? "You're choosing the wrong path. Run." And the edited voice laughed maniacally until the call ended.

Raina As I packed up my stuff for the day, I heard my phone buzz where I had left it in my pocket. I turned to check who it was, clicking open the message that was waiting for me in my inbox, and I couldn’t help but beam happily when I saw who was waiting for me.

Was this the end for me? ****

he exhaled deeply and tucked his hands in his pocket. "Sorry man, we didn't have this plan for today and when i tried reaching out to you your phone was switched off then I remembered you had a hearing today. So how did it go?" I sighed and pulled the blazer off my body and started heading towards the dinning room while I narrated the case and the final verdict.

The agent turned his nose up slightly as he gingerly used just two of his fingers to take the bloody switchblade out from between Amy’s delicate hand. When Amy heard her smartphone’s ringtone, it snapped her out of her mild daze. Her urge to cry subsided when she reached into her purse to get her phone. Amy remembered dropping her purse when the gunman attacked her. Her ringing phone brought it back to her attention. She couldn’t ignore her hip-hop ringtone. 2Pac’s All Eyez on Me echoed out of Amy’s phone.

After saying all that, she turned and walked out without hesitation. The door slammed shut behind her. I stared at the ceiling as tears slid down my face. The mother who raised me had died a horrific death. The person responsible was still warning me not to cause trouble. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath. When I opened them again, nothing remained except overwhelming hatred. I reached for the pendant hanging around my neck. I pressed a tiny hidden button on the back. After five years of marriage, even Suzanna never knew it was an emergency communicator.

Our last conversation is mostly Matteo buying the wrong sparkling water. I still think that was funny. My thumbs hover over the keyboard. It isn't asking. It's telling someone I… I stop that sentence before it finishes itself. I type. ‘Can we talk? Something came up.’ Send. I put the phone face down. It lasts almost two whole minutes before I flip it back over. His reply is already waiting. ‘Tomorrow. Café near the Met. 2 PM.’ Another message appears. ‘You okay?’ I smile slightly. ‘I'm fine.’ Pause. ‘Just something I want to tell you.’

Because when my phone vibrates one final time— The last message changes everything. > I know it wasn't an accident.

My home. Forever. ----- **THE END**