Novel & Cerita Beyond Noise And Anger

Everything I did was described by Jewel as jealousy and ignorance, causing him to eventually see me as someone hateful and malicious. The way he threw materialistic gifts at me without any care or thought was just the beginning of his impatience with me. While I was surprised by his apology, I no longer expected anything from him because nothing would come out of it anyway.

“I… just want everything to calm down as soon as possible, Ma’am.” “That is exactly how it should be,” Mrs. Lestari replied with a faint nod. “But being the wife of a powerful businessman, especially the only son of this family, is not simply about waiting for problems to pass. You must learn how to position yourself. Stay silent when the moment calls for silence. Speak when it becomes necessary. And never let your emotions control you, even when your heart feels like it is burning.”

All I wanted now is a good peaceful sleep that would make me forget everything for some time. "Wishing Murder to not be a crime so that we can kill the living devils in the name of billionaires!!!" ~ Esha Varnav ~

Time was by our side, I could hear his past stories later but what was I concerned about was that he could get hurt by his own anger that has been inside his heart all along. The police sirens reached my ear and my wide grin disappeared, along with the thoughts about my loverboy as they placed dad on the stretcher. "No, this isn't happening," I laughed as I whispered, "it's a prank, God doesn't hurt me in this way." I closed my eyes as I tried to block the sound of the sirens but to no avail.

He asked. “…it broke,” I added. “You should’ve understood by now that anger isn’t the result of anything. If you fight with anger, if you work with anger, if you dwell in anger, you’re nothing less than nothing. You—” “Is that why you’re always calm?” I impatiently whispered. “Hmm,” the alpha slightly grinned. “You’re a really smart woman, Amber.”

“Could you at least control yourself in front of our child?” He slapped my wrist and made me drop the lipstick to the ground. His strike left a bright red imprint of his palm on my skin. “I’m sick of living like this. You can do whatever you want from now on.” With that, he grabbed his coat and walked out, slamming the door behind him as he left. The sound of the door slamming shut was so loud that it made my ears throb. I squatted meekly on the ground to clean up the mess he left behind.

“Right. Who do I hit first to make them stop?” “No one.” I said quietly. “Watch.” I stepped between them. I didn't raise my voice. I extended my will, not as a shield around myself, but as a *barrier between them*. A wall of pure, sound-dampening stillness. Their shouts hit it and died, leaving them blinking in sudden, muffled quiet. In that silence, their anger felt foolish. They could still see each other’s furious faces, but without the noise, the heat bled out of the conflict.

The cold resists, pushing back like a tide testing a breakwater. “Enough,” I say, voice steady. The pressure pauses. Hesitates. “Observation,” a voice murmurs, not aloud but everywhere. “Response threshold recalibration ongoing.” “You’re freezing homes,” I reply. “That counts.” “Non-lethal,” it answers. “For now,” I snap. “That doesn’t make it acceptable.” The cold thickens, petulant. I feel anger rise—not hot, not reckless. Cold anger. Focused. The kind that sharpens decisions instead of clouding them.

“So they can justify stepping in.” “Yes,” I replied. “And they want that disorder attributed to us.” “Then what do we do?” another asked. “We can’t stop people from being angry.” “No,” I said. “But we can stop anger from being redirected.” We talked for hours. About restraint. About communication. About refusing to let frustration turn inward. This was not inspiring work. It was maintenance. The kind that keeps structures standing long enough for storms to pass. Afterward, I walked alone. The night air was sharp, carrying the scent of smoke and cold earth. The stars were unusually clear, indifferent to our struggles.

Aunt Caroline fell silent when she saw the obvious anger on Dad's face. He was the head of the Linnus family, so no one dared to cross him when he was angry. Queenie was the only exception. Eyes bright, she tugged on his hand and said, "Don't be angry, Uncle Ben. It's not good for your health to get so worked up!" The ice on Dad's face melted immediately. "How considerate of you, Queenie. If only Yvonne could learn from you!" I'd heard that multiple times ever since Queenie joined our family.