Author Anon Novels & Stories

“This has to be you. Let me go! I swear to God, you’ll pay for this. My father will—” “Still a daddy’s little crybaby, aren’t you, Andrea?” My mouth went dry. That wasn’t Jason’s voice. It was distorted through the speaker, deeper, almost metallic—but it wasn’t him. Jason would’ve shown his face by now, strutted in like he owned the place, and bragged. Whoever this was… they were hiding. “You’re not Jason,” I whispered. “I am whatever you want me to be.” “What do you want from me?!” “Hmm,” the voice drawled. “A lot, Andrea. A whole damn lot. But first—let’s me introduce myself. You can call me… Mr Anonymous”

Bryan let out a deep breath and retorted. "I already did that boss." "So did you find out who was behind it?" Hero inquired with keen interest. "Actually boss, the person goes by the name Mr.Macaroni and he's anonymous. No picture or information about the person. We also couldn't trace the source," Bryan replied and Hero scoffed. 'Mr. Macaroni, such a ridiculous name! I wonder who that is' Hero mulled, before saying "When is then meeting?"

Jonathan's my older brother. I grumbled as I put on my hoodie and walked downstairs, as I neared the living room, I heard his and my mum's voice, but there was another deep and slightly unfamiliar one. I walked faster just to see the owner of that sexily deep voice, and I was not disappointed. He stood a few inches taller than Jonathan, black hair and beautiful sapphire eyes. Yup he'll do. "He's probably here to steal some more food." I said for them to acknowledge me.

The deep, gravelly voice cut through the dark living room, making her gasp and spin around. Julian Vance stood at the entrance of the dim hallway,Marcus’s father. At fifty-four, Julian didn't look like a man entering the prime of his life,he looked like a predator at the peak of his power. He was broader than his son, taller, with sharp grey eyes that seemed to strip away a person's defenses with a single glance. He wore a dark charcoal pair of trousers and a black dress shirt with the top three buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, vein-lined forearms covered in dark hair. He held a glass of scotch, the ice clinking softly as he took a step forward into the room.

"Uhm, can I have your ticket?" Kane raised a brow, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "Ticket?" he repeated, his voice deep, teasing. The redhead—Mona, according to her name tag—bit down on her plump lower lip, her gaze darting everywhere except at him. "Sorry, it's just... you look familiar." That made him chuckle. Oh, really? He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering to the large poster plastered beside her booth—a giant picture of himself, fists raised, the underground champion.

"I never had anything to do with you. Using your visitor's room for a sweet sex today should even be appreciated. Even your house belongs to me. It is ruled by me and this room is only ten feet farther from my palace." "What do you mean?" I asked, speaking with rough sobs. "You're not his type..." Cassandra bragged, as he held Damon's hands with a cuddle. "Haven't you heard that even your poor mom has agreed to separate you from Damon if you don't perform well in the Academy? Are you blind to see what Damon owns and controls in the entirety of Agolia?" "Well, I don't have much to say." Damon interrupted, stalking around the room with an unseemly authority. "I'm the Alpha of the Silver Sword

Earlier you were all about control and demands. **Anonymous:** Good mood tonight. Plus… you’re interesting when you’re not shutting me out. Quiet but sharp. Makes me curious what’s really going on in that head of yours. **Leon:** You’re weird. **Anonymous:** Guilty. But you replied, so you must be a little weird too 😉 What’s keeping you up right now? The vigil? Or something else?

the someone cut me off. "Her name is Annabelle Siromani, my daughter."

Usal ng lalaki sa gitna. “And you are?” The guy chuckled lowly, “my apologies. Where are my manners?” Para akong hinugutan ng hininga nang hubarin niya ang suot na maskara. “I am Knythe Damien Aviar. The founder of Anonymous.” ⚘ little ⊹ lies ··································································································································