Buried Hearts Netflix Novels & Stories

I didn't do anything. Watching her expression, I understood immediately. Chase must have blocked Scarlett from seeing the video he posted last night. He was deliberately showing off to me. "Whether you did or didn't doesn't matter anymore." I turned and went back to my room, slamming the door hard and leaving Scarlett standing alone in the living room. … It was a clear night after the rain when Scarlett and I first met. On my way home from work, I passed by a dark alley behind a bar and heard a woman's faint cries for help.

I laughed wryly, before snapping coldly, "When he just went missing for hours?! My dear Stan had an accident and then got his heart taken away! So I guess some lives are more at stake than the others?!" James' face dropped, and he promptly looked away, afraid to look me in the eye as he stuttered, "W-What are you talking about?! The mortuary report is clear—he died from blood loss! Stop this nonsense, or Stan won't rest in peace!" "Blood loss? Really?" I asked quietly. "The doctor said it himself!" Sue cried urgently without herself noticing. "What, are you saying he's lying?! Quit being hysterical and give me Nathan back!" I ignored her, however, my gaze was miserable as I looked straight i

“I checked.” Anna shook her head slowly. “No… every surgery has a donor.” “Exactly,” Adrian said. Their eyes locked again. “And yours does not.” Anna felt her chest tighten again. This time, it was not just a strange reaction. It was fear. Real fear. “Then what are you saying?” she asked. Adrian took another step closer. “That something was hidden.” Anna’s breath caught. Her mind started racing. Hidden. Taken. Her hand moved to her chest again. “…my heart,” she whispered.

ALPHA DERICK'S POV As I watched them go, I could feel my heart racing very fast. I felt something that was dead within me rise up but I couldn't place what it was. I thought Tina was dead but if she is still alive who did they bury. The body was kinda beyond recognition when the body was buried years back. But he knew deep down that Tina was not dead but he couldn't put his fingers on it.

My shoulders shook as a great tremor overtook me, I wept until the night swallowed my cries, until the weight of it all cracked something inside me that would never mend. They were here. Buried like secrets. Hidden under flowers and roots, while I broke bread with the devil who put them here. I had wined and dined with the same evil people who had them hidden under this ground. “Why!” The loud scream tore through my throat. “Why! Why…” I clutched my chest, it was as though my heart was ripping out. The grief curdled. My sobs slowed, and something darker clawed its way up from the pit of my chest. My fists clenched against the soil, knuckles white, veins burning. The tears dried, but the fire

"Genuinely. The program used a real connection rather than manufacturing one because it produced better results. He was not a willing participant in the engineering. He simply loved someone the program had selected for him before he met her." Marina looked at the boundary stones. She thought about a man she had never known existed until sixty seconds ago, who had loved her mother without knowing why he had been positioned to, who had died believing something true about his own life that was also, somehow, not true at all. "Where is he buried," she said. "Silvermoon's eastern cemetery. What remains of it." Marina nodded once. She did not have anything else to say to Obsidian. Not gratitude, n

He inhaled slowly, deeply — bracing himself. “I never buried her,” he said. I frowned. “What do you mean? What happened to the body?” Hector’s jaw tightened. His eyes darkened in a way I had never seen before — a mix of fear, shame, and something dangerously close to hope. “I never buried her,” he repeated, voice low. “Because she’s not dead.” I stared at him, blood turning into ice water. “What?” My voice broke. “Hector, what are you saying?”

she confirmed softly, holding him as he struggled to process the news. His gaze lifted toward the sky, and tears rolled down his cheek as he whispered, "Hazel…" His voice cracked with emotion, and more tears welled up in his eyes. "Why? Just why? Hazel, why did you die without letting me pay your debt?" Tears streamed down his face, and he wept openly, the depth of his grief suggesting a profound and long-held connection to Rosie's mother. His pain seemed to be a mix of loss, regret, and unresolved emotions, all coming to the surface in this moment.

I catch him glancing at me in the reflection of the window, but I keep my eyes on the laptop, my heart beating so loud I’m sure he can hear it. Zero. The screen bursts alive with a slick opening track—moody, deliberate, the kind that makes your skin prickle. Then, a woman’s polished voice comes in: “welcome back to buried truth podcast. I’m your host Alexandra.” A man follows. “and I am Dany.” They pause for a moment. “Tonight, we’re diving into one of New York’s most haunting unsolved mysteries… the mysterious death of the heiress Ivy Sinclaire.” The name slices through me. My fingers tighten on the glass, and for a second, I really do think it might shatter in my hand.

He twisted his hand and pulled. The rogue stumbled and Caleb let him go. There was a single hole in his chest, blood oozing down. Joe panted. He held the heart in his hand. It was bigger than Caleb imagined it would be. “I’ve got to bury this.” Once the body dropped, Caleb frowned, following Joe. “What are you doing?” “I can’t put this in the lake. There’s no way we can allow this heart to be reborn.” “You believe in all of that?”