Chained Books Novels & Stories

We begin swaying to the music as we keep glancing at each other. I have found my happiness and piece of mind even after a lot of struggles. Looking into Gabriel's eyes, I just know it that this is just the beginning of something bigger. I am happy to announce that FADED is a paid story on goodnovel with over 3K views. It honestly means a lit to me as a young writer. I urge you to continue supporting me by reading my other works on my profile. I will be dropping the synopsis and cover in some time. There is still a lot to discover for Lyka and so, don't miss out on book two which I will perhaps be dropping next year.

“It’ was used for homestay service.” “You know the owners of this one too?” “Yes. It belongs to my sister.” “Huh?” “She wants to sell it. She got a better place.” He pointed to a restaurant a few feet ahead. Just next door. It was bigger and better. “I don’t really want this place to be sold. I wrote my first book in that room. The room is a really nice ambience to write. I write better there. I wanted to write the third one also here.”

Raven stepped into the library, looking at the mounds and mounds and stacks and shelves of books all around her. She could not remember one time ever seeing a library as boundless as this one. She walked alongside the stacks and started reading the types of books that were included in this library. She found there were books of all the creatures in the land. There were books about caster magic, human magic, the magic animals, the bitten, the history of the bitten and many many many other books. She took an interest in a thick, black, leather book, pulling it off of the shelf she noticed the dust being disturbed as the large book slid off of its place and her hands. Dust in the air as she wal

I resume my pacing, focusing on the sensation of each step rather than the pull that tugs beneath my sternum like an invisible hook embedded in flesh. Our office reflects our duality—ancient and modern, order and chaos. Bookshelves line three walls, filled with texts older than most human civilizations. The carved dragon heads that adorn our chairs—thrones, really, though we rarely use them for official business—watch with ruby eyes that sometimes seem to blink when the light shifts. The antique oak desk between us bears the weight of scrolls I've been unable to focus on since Dawn crossed our threshold. Dawn. Even thinking her name sends a ripple of heat across my scar.

David had repeatedly probed her with indirect questions about military matters, and Jane never suspected anything, telling him everything she knew. She had even mailed David some of the classified documents she had seen in Declan's study. At that time, she never thought her actions were wrong. She only felt happy that she was helping her beloved and receiving his praise. However, after her unexpected pregnancy, she completely lost contact with David and finally realized something was wrong. Declan had discovered her wrongdoing when he found her crying alone in secret. He could not bear for his childhood friend to go to prison, so he set his sights on me, who was also pregnant.

The library felt like a gift, and that was what made it dangerous. I moved slowly along the shelves, trailing my fingers across the spines of books. The contact sent a faint shiver through me, not pleasure exactly, but recognition. Something inside me loosened, not relief and not comfort, but a thin strand of control I had not realized was missing. The titles were familiar in tone if not in detail. Business. Finance. Strategy. Leadership. Negotiation. The kinds of books men like Jaden collected to justify their decisions after the fact, volumes that framed dominance as intelligence and conquest as foresight.

I murmured, wiping it clean with a tissue. The book was bound in black leather, its cover adorned with a golden chain that resembled shackles. It exuded an air of mystery and darkness. Curiosity piqued, I traced my fingers along the intricate chains. Swallowing hard, I attempted to read the title, but the words were unfamiliar. Flipping it open, I was met with pages filled with an unrecognizable language. I tried to decipher it, even searching online for clues, but nothing matched. As I flipped through the pages, my attention was drawn to a small bookmark tucked inside. Someone had been reading this.

Every angle, every slip in the network. The man delivering the threat is dead. But the chain isn’t broken. He had a contact. Someone paid him. Someone watching. Someone orchestrating. I pull another folder, scanning transactions linked to Korovin. A pattern emerges—subtle, almost invisible. Logistics shifted quietly in the last six months. Every shipment rerouted. Nothing flagrant. But it’s there, a signature left behind. I jot notes, precise. Methodical. I don’t like surprises. I don’t like unknowns.

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“You are now bound to me, there’s no turning back. You could never run away anymore.” I gave him a wide grin. “Then, be my guest, Achilles Coleman.” “I would love to be chained to this billionaire mafia in front of me.”