Break Story Novels & Stories

Outside the conference room windows Detroit moved through its morning — grey and purposeful, the river a flat pewter line in the middle distance. "When do you want to use it?" he asked. "Not yet," I said. "This is the final piece. The one that makes everything else make sense to the public. The financial collapse will raise questions — why is his empire falling apart, who is behind it, is there more to the story. This answers all of those questions simultaneously and in the most damaging possible way." "You want the business story to break first," Lucas said. "Then when people are already paying attention—"

oh,Alright. “Shut up” my face flamed. Her smirking and posture is a good enough signal for me to know she was excited for whatever talk that is to come. “Spill” she commanded. The stupid blushed gave it away. We braced ourselves for the talk. Two hours later we decided to stop for the day. Cassandra was very heartbroken (for the first time in forever) because the mysterious dude that gave her,*cough* Earth shattering orgasm and rocking her night disappeared when she woke up in the morning from her yet dirty dreams. When Cassandra and I had these kinds of tasks, I prayed extra long later at night. I knew all those talks would change me someday which I was not hoping for. Anyway, She further t

Damian's side of the bed was still empty. He hadn't come home. That wasn't unusual. But somehow, this morning felt different. My hands shook as I unlocked my phone. The first message was from an unknown number. Turn on the news. The second one said the same thing. So did the third. And the fourth. Fear crawled up my spine. I grabbed the remote from the nightstand and switched on the television. The moment the screen lit up, my entire world shattered. "Breaking News." A photograph of Damian filled the screen.

People come running, faces a mix of horror, curiosity, and holy-shit-that-was-close. I yank my helmet off and raise my hands. “I’m good,” I bark, though my pulse is still trying to escape my body. The gasps come first. Someone whispers my name, and it’s like blood in the water. “That’s Damion Grimm.” The words land more heavily than the crash. I know the routine. Now comes the whispers. Then the phones. Screens bloom around us like fireflies — subtle at first, then bold, unapologetic. People stop seeing the wreck. They see a story. A clip. A moment.

It is a gossip website, one of the trashy ones that deals in celebrity scandals. "This goes live tomorrow morning unless we can stop it," Benjamin says. The headline makes my blood run cold. "Billionaire CEO Richard Westwood's Secret Affair with Employee Half His Age: Sleeping Her Way to the Top?" Below the headline are photos. Evelyn and me leaving my building together. Getting into my car. Walking into a restaurant. The photos are grainy but clearly us. Evelyn makes a small sound beside me. "Where did they get these?" I demand. "Sylvia sold them to the website. She's been following you both, taking pictures, building a story."

The one that starts at my face and works outward and has never once been only about the baby even when we were both pretending it was. "Coffee," he says. Decaf, already made. I take it. "Rosamund?" I ask. "Not yet," he says. "Forty minutes." I look at the counter. The news alert from last night has become twelve news alerts. The story picked up overnight. Human media running with "supernatural conspiracy" in the way human media runs with things that are strange enough to generate clicks without being specific enough to require verification. Our names are not in it yet.

I looked at the worry etched on her face and tried to say I was fine, but my nose stung, and the tears started falling before I could stop them. My mom pulled me closer, her heart breaking for me as she stroked my hair. "It's okay, it's okay. Mom's here. Tell me everything, honey." We found a quiet corner to sit down, and I told her every single thing that had happened—Clara's ultrasound, the scene at the clinic, Ryan's coldness, Clara's taunting texts, and the dissolution papers I'd left on the table back at the Pack House. By the time I finished, my mother was shaking with rage.

BRYSON Fuck. The office is too quiet. Being here alone has become nearly a bad habit for me these days, and right now, I can’t help but keep staring at the laptop screen in front of me. The words are blurring together in meaningless shapes, and I still can’t believe my eyes right now. The news is everywhere. Every news site, every social media platform, every gossip forum. They are all running the same story with variations of the same sensational headlines: *Brimstone Pack Rocked by Traitors’ Scandal.*

His heart had really been affected, and if he had stayed only 10 minutes longer, this might not be the same story. Luna's phone started ringing. She picked it up immediately. She answered. -Hello? - So James had a stroke, huh? -Excuse me? -Is he back with his seizures? Oh, honey, I remember all the stress he had on his body. It's not easy to go through life after you've killed, you know? - she said as she gave a soft laugh. -What are you talking about? - Don't you know anything about him? Luna frowned.

My reflection on the mirror said everything about how I was feeling. It wasn't always easy to appear all strong and unbothered when deep down I was already dying inside. It hurts knowing that everything was a lie. There was no love from the beginning, there was nothing to hold unto, and realizing that I had nothing now sent chills down my spine. My mind flew back to how everything started, how I met Jade and how she introduced me to Rodrigo. It was a normal morning when my name was announced over the speakers that I was to appear to the principal's office. It felt completely strange having the principal send for me, but summoning courage, I made my way to the office where I got the worst new