Ad At 100 Novels & Stories

On one of the tree branches there, he was hanging. "Sorry! I can't do backflips!" He shouted at me. What the heck is this guy?

Adro said before grabbing the bottom hem of his t-shirt and pulling it up. Jaws hanging down, Grace was in awe at the incredible sight before her. She wasn’t sure what kind of exercise Adro usually did that made his muscle structure look like the most beautiful and deadly hills and ravines in the world. He had a body shape that could make all women die from nosebleeds!

“40 billion dollars and ten cents.” “Haha. You’re too petty. I’m calling out 40 billion and 100 dollars. I’m more generous.” “I’ll add 1000 dollars, and that’s the maximum.”

I met his gaze calmly and said, "I'm not making a scene. I'm serious." His face twisted with anger. "Fine. If you're so set on it, then throw them all away. I don't take back what I've given." Then he turned his back to me and went on shoveling soil, as if I were nothing more than a passing breeze. I pressed my lips together, saying nothing. There was no point in continuing this conversation. My eyes lingered on him for a moment. He was tall and striking, standing nearly six foot three, every inch the guy who drew countless stares wherever he went. He had always carried himself with quiet confidence and taste, effortlessly charming to others.

' Next morning, my phone blew up: [I've invited my friends tonight. Ready to apologize?] [If you're sincere, I'll give you another shot. You can still be my wife. I'll keep paying for your mom."] [8 PM. My family house. Don't be late.] *** By the time the clock hit eight, the Fletcher mansion was bursting at the seams. Everyone showed up for the same reason—to watch Jenna crash and burn. Whispers buzzed through the crowd. "Place your bets—what lame excuse is she rolling out tonight to win Mark back?"

“Technically, I can, Kent. I am your grad instructor. For every time you fail to show up in my discussion session, I deduct five points from your attendance score. Your grades will be doomed if you missed the class for more than 8 times. Simple rule, easy math.” “That’s not fair! I have a medical condition, I have, emmm, AGHD.” “You mean ADHD? No, you don’t. Before disease-guilt me, you should at least try to get your excuse straight.” “Yeah, ADHD, whatever. Listen, Miss Irwin, you don’t get it: I MUST have an impeccable GPA. My life is perfect, always have been and always will be. The Hurons won’t tolerate any imperfectness in their lives!”

Just a simple, black-and-white headline. Adrain will be airing live at 10:00AM. It's an invitation and no one knew what to expect, but, they were eager to hear from him or know what he wants to say. Adrain has always been a centre of attention. Still, by 9:45 a.m., the livestream had nearly a million viewers. Inside the auditorium—spare, elegant, filled with clean light—journalists, young professionals, industry veterans, and many more gathered in silence. The air was charged, but reverent. Everyone knew something was different this time.

Ada replied. “Hmm...and how much did you collect?” She asked. “Ten Million Dollar each,” Ada calculated. “So you have thirteen right now?” She asked. “No-it’s Twelve we...didn’t succeed in the last one,” She spoke with sorrow filled eyes. “I hope Eric was the last one,” Peace added. Ada stared at Peace. She was looking out the window. Her face was blank awhile, her eyes were loud, they were filled with things she had to say but something kept her silent.

"But the lunch hour is over. I have a meeting with my architect for the new office." I slid out of the booth, leaving him sitting there, his chest heaving, his pupils blown wide, and the space beside him empty. "Good afternoon, Silas," I said, smoothing my dress down. "Ninety-one days left." I walked out of Le Sommet without looking back, leaving the billionaire CEO trapped in the center of a crowded room, realizing that even when he was touching me, I had never been further from his reach.