Book Best Served Cold Novels & Stories

The atmosphere in the banquet hall was electric, a stark contrast to the tense exchange I had just had with Roy and Shayla. As Jax led me through the opulent space, I couldn’t help but marvel at the elegant décor—crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the gathered guests. The scent of gourmet food wafted through the air, mingling with the soft hum of laughter and conversation. It was like stepping into a different world.

The atmosphere in the private room fell into a strangely tense silence for a few seconds. Just when everyone thought the young woman was about to be coldly turned away, Peter Sullivan chuckled lightly and pulled her into his arms in one swift movement. He said with a smirk, "You're the first one bold enough to try this. What's your name?" His low and dulcet whisper was seductive and intoxicating. Following his question, the atmosphere in the room became heated with sexual tension.

Even though he has a bad temper, they are always looking for a way to get closer to him, but they are always cut off coldly. As a boy, he was exceptionally handsome, yet always radiating an aloofness that kept others at bay. His features mesmerized, but his eyes chilled - a beauty tempered by steel. “Brother Casey, “Would you like to eat dinner with me “? I heard that the cook made a lot of delicious food due to some visitors that will be coming…… But Casey's gaze chilled her. "Shut up and go away." Frightened by him, the girl still took the courage to come over. “ Brother Casey, I will be waiting for you to come out; I just want us to be friends…

Arthur Voss did not react immediately. He did not send threats. He did not send men. He did something far more unsettling. He sent an invitation. The envelope arrived at Vince’s house just after noon. No return address. Cream paper. Thick. Expensive. Tiana felt it before Vince opened it. A quiet dread settling into her stomach. Inside was a single card. Dinner. Tonight. 8 p.m. The Elaris Private Room. Arthur Voss. Tiana’s fingers went cold.

"Ow! Mr. Sylvaria, please don't kill me! If you don't want me here, I can leave. I can leave right now!" I could not have cared less about Zachary's act. All I wanted to do was tear the pajamas off him. They were my mother's final act of love. And now, they had become a symbol of betrayal. My fingers had just touched the fabric when Yvonne came barging in with a bowl of piping hot chicken soup. She splashed it on me without even asking for the story.

His suspicions got cleared after few seconds as Clarissa closed the book with a thud and put it back in it’s place, rolling her eyes in disgust. Asshole! She is a fool to believe that he’s into romance novels, which explains his cold personality. Now she understood the meaning of the phrase ‘Don’t judge the book by it’s cover’. The book she took out is a murder mystery from fourteenth century and now she came to realize how Nicholas mastered in torture methods. He must’ve trained himself by reading such thriller novels. Nicholas chuckled at her actions and found her disdain cute. She can be amusing at times, he thought and stood behind her.

Light pierced through the darkness, and I found myself standing in front of a door, my hand on the doorknob. Inside, I heard laughter. "Our son is so smart, knowing not to disturb us. I'd say he got the best of both of us." Then came a string of sounds I couldn't bear to hear. I clutched the doorknob tightly, the pain in my heart suffocating. The memory of slamming onto the concrete below rushed back—a crushing, unbearable agony, like being run over by a truck.

I like taking my time, that way, I can get used to the idea of living with Xander. Sitting behind the counter in the bookstore, I listen to Vincent talking to his cars while I place an order for new books. One of those books is The Art of War by Sun Tsu. I want to read it and see why Alexei loves it so much. My thoughts turn to the BBQ, and I must admit, I enjoyed it a lot. And Rosemarie was right. Everyone seemed pretty normal. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe guns and men smoking cigars while plotting the end of the world?

She pulled out a massive, beautifully bound hardcover book. It was Isabelle Voss's seminal cookbook. It was considered the most significant culinary text published in the last decade. Aurora slowly opened the heavy front cover. The thick paper smelled faintly of fresh ink and expensive binding glue. A short, handwritten message was scrawled across the title page in elegant black ink. "He chose the right one. Take care of him. He is terrible at being taken care of. — I.V." Aurora stood perfectly still at the center island. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She read the generous, devastating words twice. She closed the heavy book gently. She walked over to the wooden shelves and placed it s

Amelia studied him. “I suddenly feel like I don’t know you well enough.” “You can take your time,” Carl responded smoothly, taking her hand with practiced ease. “You’ve been using your mind too much while filming, and you’ve exhausted a lot of energy.” His voice was low and gentle. “I had someone prepare Copper Pot Lamb Hotpot. Want to go eat?” “Afterwards, we can sit and have some tea, try some desserts. I recently acquired an ancient edition of "The Chronicles of Mountains and Seas”—I think you’ll like it.”