Beneath This Man Book Novels & Stories

I turn the door knob open and I take a peak. Just a peak, I tell myself but soon I'm seated on his bed and reading a novel that I got from the shelf of books just at a corner of his room. I can't help it, his room is so arranged, the opposite of what I expected. Everything about the is in black and white, giving it this gothic vibe, I expected it to be beige just like the other rooms. Chasing Red! I've gotten myself so hooked up in the love story of the book that I don't pay attention to my surroundings. I never thought Nathan in all his calm and intimidating self would be interested in novels, romance at that!

She judged him to be no older than twenty-two; a young man fresh from the army hired to work in a position for a lycanthrope second-in-power to the Alpha. Her master. Her creator. The commander. He tipped his hat at the servants and clapped hands with the males, a guffaw of laughter ringing about his bright presence. He was the sun and they were all flowers listing towards him for warmth, comfort, thirsty for a sliver of that brightness. He’s coming. He’s coming. Still she had not moved from her position. Her palms felt warm and soft and damp against her face.

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She buried herself under her blankets, letting the silence consume her as she tried to ignore the pounding of her own heart. In the dimness of her room, as daylight faded and the shadows grew long, Channary clutched her pillow, sinking deeper into her shame. The Moon had betrayed her, left her vulnerable, her mate unclaimed. She was the Alpha’s daughter, Moon-Kissed and blessed, yet here she was, abandoned and marked only by the emptiness of broken promises.

“unlucky contestants…shelf two, book thirteen.” It sounded oddly like a personal note. My curiosity won out and I skimmed my fingers along the spines of the books until I chose one at random. I pulled out a medium-sized book, a deep shade of navy blue. Earthen twine was wrapped around the book, and there was a picture on the front. A middle-aged man with chocolate hair and dark eyes smiled up at me. The cover of the book read, “Arthur Zimmerman, Game 71.

Seconds passed when an idea popped up like a light bulb was turned on. “Humayo’t bumalik!” I shouted. Then my hands started to glow. The two Manananggal looked at the direction where I am hiding. They might have heard me. I can already feel it. I can already feel my sword coming back! When the sword came back at me, I looked at them. Okay, let’s get this over with! End of Chapter 11

"And you stay where I can see you during work hours." I blinked. "Sir?" "You heard me. I don't repeat myself." "Yes sir." He pushed back from his desk, stood, then walked to the massive bookshelf along the wall. I watched him run his fingers along the spines of books and binders as if searching for something specific. When he pulled out a thick binder my heart jumped because the label on the spine read Stone Industries. My father's company. I gripped the armrests of my chair to keep myself from lunging forward. That folder might have everything I needed. Proof of what Xade did. Evidence that could destroy him the way he destroyed my family.

Inside the folder were hundreds of photographs, documents, and recorded conversations, all revealing a truth far more horrifying than I could have ever imagined. One of the photos that shocked me the most showed Gavin and Selina talking to a man whose face was hidden in shadow. A note beneath the photo read: "This man is the owner of a company that has been trying to ruin Gavin’s father’s business. They are working together to bring the company down for their own personal gain."

In the practiced ease with which he deflected any attempt to get past the surface. And I could see how wrong I'd been to think I had him figured out. The saying was true — never judge a book by its cover. Except this wasn't just a book I'd misread. This was a story written in ink I'd never even noticed before, full of chapters no one had offered to show me. A story of betrayal and loss and the kind of family wounds that never really heal, just scar over and ache when the weather changes. And maybe — just maybe — I was starting to understand why both of them looked at each other like they'd been holding a grudge longer than they'd been holding breath.

Parang may maliit na bagay na nakaipit dito. Out of curiosity, agad ko ng kinuha ang librong 'yon mula sa shelf then dusted it off. "'Where the sun doesn't shine' by Marvens Jeff Bonhomme..?" I couldn't help but shook my head just reading the title at the cover page. This hardbounded black book was no doubt a novel, an old novel kaya ba't naman nandito ito? Was Mr. Romero also interested with this piece of crap? With disgust glare at that book, kinuha ko na lamang yong papel na nakaipit dito and then put that book back to the shelf.