Agatha Christie Seven Dials Novels & Stories

While there was no one at home, I quickly packed up, but I could not find my passport. I could not find it even after searching through every nook and cranny. But I did find a battered notebook. On the cover were two words. [Leave him.] With trembling fingers, I flipped the notebook open. The edges were yellowing. By the looks of it, these words had been written far earlier than the words at the bottom of the makeup box. There were only a few words on the first page, but the contents were terrifying.

The ninety-ninth thing my adopted sister Isabella took from me was a grave in the sun. I had already paid the deposit, but the cemetery didn’t dare sell the plot to me. Because the Moretti family’s principessa wanted that plot for her dead dog. But I loved that spot. So I called my mother, the Donna of the Moretti family. Her voice cooled the moment I mentioned the grave： “Adriana, are you still pretending you have gastric cancer?” “Isabella just lost her dog. She’s suffered enough. Stop trying to take something else from her.” My father rejected my call. My brother, Luca, answered while helping Isabella choose the dog’s headstone. “Stop buying graves to frighten us. Why are you always so pe

Three years after my mom, Scarlett Vaughn, gets divorced, she suddenly finds herself being pursued by a man named Keith Lawrence. He dotes on Mom so much that it's almost ridiculous, driving her to and from work and making sure she gets a different breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. At the wedding, his eyes are red as he swears he'll never let Mom suffer even the slightest bit of hardship. But on their very first night as newlyweds, Keith slaps Mom so hard he ruptures her eardrum. Then he whips her with a belt, hits her with liquor bottles, and beats her with a baseball bat. The last time, Mom doesn't get back up. Then he pushes open my bedroom door and reaches for me. In a panic,

They had never blocked each other. Quinn could no longer sit still. She found an excuse to leave the gala and ran to the rooftop to call him. However, all she got was, "The number you've dialed is unavailable." After the gala ended, Quinn did not go home with Hector for once. Instead, she drove straight to Conrad's place. She rushed upstairs and pounded on the door, but no one answered. The landlord could not stand the noise and opened the door, shouting loudly, "Stop banging the door! That young man already left last night!"

My assistant, Sophie Carr, who was usually full of chatter and energy, kept stopping herself mid-breath like she was trying not to say something. “What is it?” I asked. She pressed her lips together and chose her words with care. “Sir, I received a billing notification from the Litton Hotel. It was a luxury couples suite with a full truckload of roses included. The name on the booking was Austin’s.” I said nothing, not because it hurt, but because I suddenly remembered that Vera had once sent me roses too. Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine of them, so many that two arms could barely hold them.

He did not trust me after seven years together. The clock on the wall struck three. It was the last day of my bet with Bailey. It was also the date that Jeremy had planned to propose to me.

Late at night. The entire packhouse was dead silent. I lay in bed, unable to sleep because of the pain. [Warning! Warning!] The System's alarms blared in my head. [Host, a spy from an enemy pack has infiltrated the packhouse! His target is Caleb! He's heading to Caleb's room with a specialized silver-bullet gun right now!] My eyes snapped open. [Host, this is your chance!] The System sounded eager. [If you die protecting Caleb, the System can rule it an early mission termination! I can extract you from this world right now and send you to the new one!]

Back in the private lounge at the airport, an assistant handed me a sealed dark wooden box, plainly wrapped, no name on it, nothing else at all. "Miss Ava, someone left this at the front desk just now. They asked that it go to you by hand." I gave a small nod and opened the box. The moment the lid came up, a cold metal sheen filled my eyes. A whole box of casings, polished clean and bright and neat, layered over each other, filling it to the edges. At the very center sat a folded slip of plain white paper, the handwriting forceful and ragged, worn through with exhaustion and longing, just one short line:

Seven suddenly creeps out of bed and heads to the washroom. He starts speaking on the phone. "Why is May here? I want her gone!" Seven hisses. "Her being here will ruin our plan. She's a distraction. And she's allover me!" There's a moment of silence as he listens to the receiver on the other end. "Let's not ruin this!" Seven says and pauses. "Terra has fallen into our trap CJ!" 😳😳😳😳😳

“You think I trust you, Irving. I know you’ll make it hurt. Men like you aren’t honorable. But I’m not worried. Eventually, Argent and the others will figure out what you’ve done and clean the house.” Irving snorts. “Do you really think so? I’ve been operating under Argent’s nose for nearly two years, and he has yet to catch me. Hell, most of the directors have been unable to figure it out. Ares and Hades know nothing. Even those morons from the European and Asian divisions, Atlas, Kronos, Osiris, Sheva, Yen Lo Wang. Our southern members, from Mexico and Dionysus from New Orleans, are utterly clueless. All fools with foolish ideals will end them soon. Which, I can be honest, makes me feel a