Asya Story Novels & Stories

“Okay, this is total BS. Why on earth would Sasha do something like this? All the elites will come for her! God, she's fucking cunning.” He sounded like he was talking more to himself. But yeah…he was right. Sasha just confirmed that subs were really bullied to death at Delengade and she even turned in her own friend. All to convince me she was serious about being a changed person? I hated to admit it, but it was working. My phone started to ring again and I answered it knowing it had to be Layla. “Are you done watching?” She asked. I turned to Peter whose expression was hard as he stared at me.

And not when she descended the stairs that morning, suitcase rolling behind her, hoping for one last look… or at least a goodbye. Nothing. Only silence. Ashara sat quietly in the back seat of Zev’s jeep, her hands wrapped around her knees, her suitcase thrown in the back by one of the helpers. Her hair was tied in a messy braid, and her eyes were already glossy with unshed tears when Zev opened the door for her. “You okay?” he asked gently. She didn’t reply. Just nodded. Amaira and Jade were seated behind them, chatting about the cold weather at the destination, about hot cocoa, mountains, bonfires—normal things. Things that felt galaxies away from what Ashara was feeling.

Susanna had thoughtfully added audio for full effect. "I've been back for six months. With just a flick of my finger, he's fallen into the palm of my hand. He prepared a blue fireworks show for me tonight. Since I don't like blue, let me give it to you for your anniversary celebration so that it won't go to waste." The crowd erupted in shock. Sophie's face turned pale as panic surged through her. "That bitch Luna! How dare she expose our chat records?"

“Then maybe it’s time you stopped running alone. The rain had ceased, leaving the city cloaked in a damp, oppressive silence. We navigated through the maze of deserted streets; Lena led us to a concealed entrance beneath a derelict overpass. The hidden door revealed a spacious underground chamber, remnants of a forgotten subway station. The air was musty but dry, a sanctuary from the perils above. As we settled around a makeshift fire, the flicking flames cast dancing shadows on the graffiti laden walls. Lena's gaze was distant, her fingers tracing the edge of a worn photograph she had retrieved from her pack. “Who is that?” I inquired, unable to mask my curiosity. Lena hesitated, then hande

Her husband never loved her. They soon appeared before the venue of the party, Anastasia lead her straight inside. "Asa, I know it's hard on you but here, you must have fun and pretend as if everything is okay." She looked at Asa's face pitifully as she said this. Asa nodded as if agreeing then Anastasia left her to greet some friends. Asa decided to abide by what her friend advised so she went to the toilet and washed her face. While coming back, probably because her brain wasn't fully settled yet, she collided on a hard chest and the next thing she felt was a strong arm grabbing her by the arms. "Did you not have eyes to see, woman?"

The girl was extremely vexed by his rude behavior. “ How rude!” He could at least apologize for bumping into me.” The girl uttered in anger. “ Ayase, what are you doing on the ground?” A rather petite guy appeared before her. He’s her assistant and goes by the name Martin. The girl on the ground goes by the name of Ayase Nakamura, a professional photographer with long black hair and brown eyes. Her assistant, Martin was quite the catch as well with his semi-length brown hair and purple eyes. They were going to a baby shower event and they were a couple of blocks away from it.

Ash leaned in to loudly whisper, “She means she’s a thief. A damn good one, too.” “Oh.” My brows rose in surprise. A thief. Cool. “Was that a compliment I heard coming out of your mouth, Ashley?” the other woman, Aya, asked. Ash blushed a stunning pink and Aya and Nalanie cracked up. I hid a grin behind my hand, content to watch their interaction. “That’s not my fucking name,” Ash said, his tone full of deadly promise. “Whatever, sugar.” Aya’s gaze caught mine. “Welcome to Penumbra where all the guys are dickheads but the girls kick ass. I’m Aya.”

“Okay, don’t keep me in suspense. Spill it all. What happened?” June smiled despite herself, staring at the bracelet on her wrist—silver, delicate, inscribed with words that had haunted her all day: "For every scar, a story. And you, June, are poetry." “He set up this… this beautiful rooftop dinner. It felt like something out of a movie, Amara. Candlelight, city lights, soft music, and he cooked too—well, hired a chef, but you get the idea.” “Hmm… classic seduction move.”

SIX WEEKS LATER Layla walked into Proficient Investment with a different, excited look. Her mood and mode of walking were elegant, and the happiness in her easily ran around her face. She entered the top floor and met Asher having a conversation with his staff members. “Good morning.” She greeted him at the top of her voice. Asher paused his conversation and shifted his attention to her. “I heard you feed the workers with words — congratulations,” he said, smiling. He giggled, adding, “But unfortunately, I am sorry I can’t solve your problem. I can't sponsor the project.”

Damien's voice trembled so much it was almost incoherent. "She mentioned the ash ceremony to my face, and I… I accused her of cursing herself." Richard and Eleanor had to hold onto each other just to stay upright. They finally realized that Seraphina had never been lying. She had been walking, step by step, toward her own destruction. And they had, time and again, rejected her final pleas for help. Eleanor, fighting through her heartbreak, snatched the phone and spoke to the customer service representative. "We want the ceremony. Reserve it for us!