Apartment Receptionist Mga Nobela at Kwento

Helen Sinclair walked out of a penthouse with nothing but a bag she'd packed four months before she needed it. No note. No explanation. Just a text — I can't do this anymore — and she left. She had married Alexander Sinclair because her father's company was drowning and the Sinclair name was the only life raft available. Nobody told her that. She figured it out herself, eighteen months too late, sitting on a cold bathroom floor with a positive pregnancy test while her husband's voice carried through the wall on another call that mattered more than she did. So she left. Three years later she is Helen Carter, living in Boston. Small apartment, a plant named Gerald, a job she earned herself. A quiet life entirely hers. She is also fourteen weeks pregnant with a child Alexander doesn't know exists. Then Julian Cross calls. He knows you're in Boston. He's coming himself. Alexander arrives with no team, no lawyers, no plan — which is so unlike him it frightens her. He says he just needed to see she was okay. She almost believes him. Then his eyes drop to her stomach and she watches him understand everything without a single word. What follows is a collision neither of them is prepared for. Alexander, who has never chased anything, now refuses to leave. Helen, who rebuilt herself from nothing, refuses to be pulled back. Julian Cross is realizing he has feelings for the woman his employer never deserved. And Nina Sinclair is about to blow everything open before Helen gets to decide anything herself. This is not a story about a woman who gets rescued. It's about one who makes the man who lost her prove he's worth finding again — on her terms, or not at all.

“Oh my darling Uncle”. I said while hugging him as he was backing me. “Uncle?”. A different voice asked and it seems to come from the person I'm hugging. He turned around with me in his arms and I stared into his eyes. Dark eyes. Uncle Max's eyes are blue, like mine. I let go of him immediately like I had been burned and blushed furiously. “Uhm, sorry. I thought you… were my uncle”. I told him. A chuckle brought my attention back to his handsome face. “Hello cutie, why do you think your uncle is here?” He said, his voice sending shivers down my body. *** Happiness Matthews, a 19-year-old college freshman, thought she had everything figured out when she left her small Texas town for the bright lights of California. But after a dangerous security guard targets her in her new apartment, she has to move in with Mason, her uncle's friend, who she met two years ago at his wedding. Mason, a man in his thirties still haunted by the woman who left him at the altar two years ago, never expected to share his home with his best friend’s niece. At first, their living arrangement seems like a temporary inconvenience—but the longer they stay under the same roof, the harder it becomes to ignore the magnetic tension building between them. As the lines between family and desire blur, Happiness finds herself drawn to the man who carries both charm and a painful past. But with every passing day, the unspoken rules become more difficult to follow, and a dangerous truth about Mason’s past threatens to tear them both apart. In a story where forbidden attraction and unresolved heartbreak collide, Happy must choose between loyalty, family, love, and her own future—before the stakes get even higher

At 10:00 pm sharp, a food deliveryman wearing a cap knocks on the door of Unit 502. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?" Unit 502 is an apartment that's rented out to multiple people. There are three rooms here altogether. The one opening the door is my roommate, William Yates. He has his headphones on and is currently immersed in a game. So, he waves a hand impatiently. "It wasn't me." The deliveryman wastes no time in pulling out a machete. Immediately, he slashes William's throat in one fluid motion. Next, the deliveryman opens the door leading to another bedroom while holding the takeout. "Did you order delivery?" That room belongs to a gym trainer named Leon Holton. He's obviously taken aback by the deliveryman's presence. "Nope. Who are—" The deliveryman doesn't give Leon a chance to finish his question. He reacts by plunging the machete into Leon's heart. When I'm done with my shower, I open the bathroom door to see large puddles of blood on the floor as well as the deliveryman, who's wielding a machete. "They weren't the ones who ordered delivery. Did you do it?" Scared out of my wits, I subconsciously shake my head. "It's not me! I don't know anything—" Before I can finish speaking, the deliveryman hacks me to death. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back five minutes in time before I get murdered in cold blood. Almost immediately, I rush out of the bathroom, only to see the alarmed expressions plastered all over William's and Leon's faces. That's when I'm certain that everyone has gotten reborn. Suddenly, the doorbell rings loudly. A suppressed masculine voice echoes afterward. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?"

My ex-colleague, Brenda Wilson, finds out from an unknown source that I have taken in an adopted son. Because of that, she insists on matchmaking my son with her niece. "My niece has graduated from a proper college, you know! You don't have to prepare any fancy wedding gifts… Just 800 thousand dollars will do! On top of that, you can put her name on the deed of that fancy deluxe apartment in the city center. "From the way I see it, there's no need to choose the perfect date anymore. They should get their marriage registered tomorrow and do their best to give birth to a cute baby boy!" My adopted son has a volatile temper, so there's no way he'll go on a blind date with some random woman. I refuse Brenda's offer on the spot with a cold expression. Feeling furious and embarrassed, Brenda yells at me for being a stingy old lady. Then, she storms out of my place angrily. Three months later, Brenda shows up with her pregnant niece outside my residential area. There, they start a livestream and start crying their woes to the Internet. "Everyone, Emily Parker's adopted son tricked my poor niece, Ashley Collins, into sleeping with him! Yet now, he refuses to claim the unborn baby as his! "Oh, Ashley keeps crying every day! Can Emily even afford to take responsibility for my darling Ashley if she and her unborn baby end up dying because of that bastard? "If I gain 100 thousand likes by the end of today, I'll definitely commit suicide right on that Emily hag's doorstep!" As I look at the comments that demand justice in Brenda's livestream, I almost laugh out loud. My adopted son is actually a male monkey which has retired from the local zoo. On top of that, he's already neutered. So, what on earth is Ashley pregnant with? A magical baby monkey?

The day I won the eight-million-dollar East Harbor renovation bid, I handed the lead role to Grace Whitman, Ethan Hale’s childhood sweetheart. Ethan thought I had finally learned to be sensible. He happily told me he was taking me to the Maldives for our wedding anniversary. Grace found out that night. She pretended the pressure from work was too much and cried uncontrollably. Ethan panicked so badly that he canceled a board meeting, stayed with her for three days, then called our anniversary trip an emergency client visit and gave Grace the second ticket. When he called me, his tone was still calm, almost entitled. “Sofia, we can talk about emotional stuff later. The company comes first right now. Grace has never handled a project this big on her own. I need to be there with her.” “You’re my wife. You should understand.” I sat alone in our empty apartment and looked at the photo Grace had just posted. In the private airport lounge, Ethan had draped his jacket over her shoulders. Their knees almost touched. Her caption read, [Some people never have to say love. They just show up first, every time.] I didn’t question him. I didn’t cry. I only replied, [Okay.] Ethan probably thought I had finally learned my place. Satisfied, he promised that when he came back, he would give me an even better anniversary. What he didn’t know was that I had already submitted my resignation to Hale Creative. And he didn’t know that the document he had signed three days ago wasn’t a project authorization form. It was our divorce agreement. By the time he realized what he had lost, I was no longer Mrs. Hale. I was Sofia Bellandi again. And Bellandi women do not beg for seats at tables they built.

A year ago, my life was simple. I was just Ariel Anthony…a regular college student, cheerleader with decent grades, daughter of a struggling baker, and recently appointed step-sister to a guy I barely knew. Nothing special. Then came the storm. Not just the thunderstorm that trapped me in Professor Grayson's apartment that night, but the storm that followed. The one that's still raging around me, that I created. They don't warn you about men like Luther Grayson in freshman orientation. They don't tell you how a single glance from the right person can make you question everything you thought you knew about yourself. About what you want. About what you'd risk to get it. They also don't warn you about guys like Ethan Cross, with his perfect smile hiding something dark. The kind of guy who's used to getting what he wants and doesn't understand the meaning of the word "no." And no one, absolutely no one…prepares you for what it feels like when the person who's supposed to be your brother looks at you with something else in his eyes. Mom once said I had a gift for making complicated situations worse. If she only knew. My phone buzzed beside me, and I glanced down to see Luther's name on the screen. My heart still jumps every time, even when I'm aware of what could happen if people learned about the two of us. I should ignore it. I should block his number, focus on my classes, help Mom with the bakery, and pretend none of this ever happened. But I'm already reaching for the phone. That's the thing about crossing lines… once you step over them, it's almost impossible to step back. And I've crossed so many lines now, I can't even see where I started.

After returning from a three-month business trip, I rushed to meet my fiancé and resolve our dispute over my best friend, Elena. Elena’s ex-husband left her penniless and broken. I offered her my apartment, helped her "find herself" and accompanied her through nights of tequila-soaked sobbing. My fiance, Julian, hated it. Or so he said. "She’s a leech, Clara," he’d snap, watching her try on my designer coats. "She doesn't even know how to make toast without calling for help. Are you her best friend or her maid? People like her don't want to heal; they just want a free ride." She's lost everything, Julian," I argued."Without her, I wouldn't have survived my mother’s death. Please, just be patient for me." I let myself in quietly. The house was still, the air smelling of expensive candles and something else—something sweet and floral that wasn't mine. I walked toward the master suite, expecting to find Julian asleep. Instead, the door was ajar. The wine bottle I had brought to surprise Julian slipped from my hand, leaving me paralyzed for a moment. Elena was draped across my silk sheets. Julian was hovering over her, expertly shucking oysters—my favorite—and feeding them to her with a look of doting, soft-eyed tenderness he hadn't shown me in months. "You're so much better at this than she is," Julian purred. "Because she’s cold, Julian," Elena whispered, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "She’s all business. She doesn't know how to satisfy men in bed." I stood in the doorway, my whole self trembling, not in cold but in pure rage and disgust. "I hope the oysters are fresh," I said, my voice cutting through the room like a blade.

"I'm not yours!" I snap, my eyes narrowing into slits as I glare at him. A wicked grin curls on his lips. "Oh, but you are, little deer. How can you even begin to deny it?" He leans in closer, his breath hot against my neck as he drags his nose along my skin, inhaling deeply. "You let me touch you. Now, you. Are. Mine." I shake my head vigorously, my voice trembling as I stammer, "I... I wasn't awake. I didn't know it was you. I thought it was him!" The words spill out, more an attempt to convince myself than to sway him. His dark, sinister laugh reverberates as he presses closer, pinning me against the wall, his body a cage around mine. "Yet your eyes were fixed on his face, weren't they, little deer? Even as you came so hard around my fingers." He's right. My heart pounds as I recall the moment, my gaze locked on Justin, terrified he would wake and discover us. Luna thought she had everything she wanted—a loving relationship with her boyfriend, Justin, and a life that felt secure. But everything changed in a single, haunting night. For years, Luna had been living under the shadow of a mysterious stalker, someone who invaded her apartment, left unsettlingly sweet gifts, and even stole her clothing. She never imagined that the danger was closer than she could have ever suspected. After a night of partying, Luna drifts off to sleep between Justin and his best friend, Dante. But what she doesn't know is that Dante, the man she trusted, is the very stalker who has been obsessing over her for years. And now, with her so close, his twisted desires are becoming impossible to resist.

In the fifth year after my death, my wife, Yuna Lane, visited my apartment once more. She wanted me to take the blame for her childhood sweetheart's corporate fraud crimes. "Finn, Joe is going to be elected the chairman of the Trade Association. He can't afford any blemish to his reputation. Will you only be satisfied by thoroughly ruining him? "It's only two more years in prison! Joe said he'll give you a job once you're released. Stop being so ungrateful!" Her screams and shouts startled my neighbors. … When she banged on the door once more, the woman who lived across from me finally stepped out into the hallway. "Miss, stop banging on the door. He died long ago." "He's dead?" The woman sighed. "Yes. I hear it goes back to that fraud case years ago. The victim's family wasn't happy with the sentence, so as soon as Finn was released, they had him run over and killed.” My wife's face turned stark white upon hearing the truth. However, barely a few seconds passed before she let out a cold scoff, confident this was all just a scheme of mine. "Great. He's willing to fake his death just so he can get out of helping Joe. Does he really think I'm helpless and powerless against his schemes? Tell him that his parents are dead meat if he doesn't show up in three days!" She then violently kicked the metal grills of my door before strutting away on her high heels. The woman watched her walk away with bloodshot eyes, shaking her head in pity as she muttered under her breath, "Poor guy. His old man died soon after hearing of his death..."

Hunter’s thumb traces my lower lip, his molten golden eyes burning into mine. He growls roughly. “Do you want all three of us to fuck you tonight, little mate?” I stare up at them, my cheeks burn with embarrassment as fresh slick floods my pussy. Desire burns so hot I can barely think straight. I’m so wet it’s shameful. I feel like such a naughty, desperate girl. “…Yes. Please… Alphas.” All three of them let out deep growls, their eyes flashing gold. “Good little mate,” Zane rasps. “Then we’re going to ruin every tight little hole until you’re screaming our names and dripping with our cum.” Seth yanks my t-shirt up roughly, exposing my bare tits to their hungry gazes. **** Two years ago, when Dad got stripped of his Alpha title for breaking pack law, we were exiled to a crappy apartment on the wrong side of town. I thought my life sucked before, but this was a whole new level of hell. At academy, I'm the girl everyone avoids. Bad luck follows me everywhere, or so they think. Perfect target for bullies, especially my stepsister Cessy. She's everything I'm not — head cheerleader, gorgeous, popular. While she's the golden child at home and school, I'm her personal 'unpaid' assistant. Then everything changed on my eighteenth birthday. I found my mates. Not just one, but three. The Blackwood Trio: Hunter, Seth, and Zane. Hockey gods, gorgeous Alphas, the most wanted guys at school. Every girl dreams about them, every guy wants to be them. And somehow, impossibly, they're mine. Of course, nothing's ever simple in my life. Three mates means three times the drama, three times the possessiveness… and way more filthy, overwhelming heat than my innocent body knows how to handle.