Novel & Cerita City Of Glass Graphic

#PagesI'llDeleteLater" THE END. ------------------ Hey guys, Thank you all so much for reading this book THE GLASS WIFE. Thank you for your time, energy, money😂, I do not take it for granted. To everyone that commented, gifted, sent out gems, (If you haven't, please do😏) thank you all so much. I appreciate. But this is not the end, I'll be writing more books, improving myself and I hope to see you there too! Especially on my current book, CHOKEHOLD. Updates there will be now more frequent. Thank you everyone! Much Love 😘😘😘

I said as I turned back to the glass,my reflection scattering into many fragments on it. “Even glass cuts deep if pushed enough.” The orchestra's music invaded the air around us,laughter cutting through the crowd, the illusion of perfect people in the best world. And under the laughter of the predatory crowd and overlooking the glow of the city below,I smiled - it felt calm and dangerous. Because in a world built of glass,I was well on my way to standing talk with shattering.

His eyes meet mine—dark and wild, gleaming like a storm about to hit. “Now I’m done wondering.” In a single, fluid motion, he turns me around to face the massive glass window overlooking the city. The skyline stretches endlessly before me—thousands of lights twinkling like stars, a sea of steel and glass spread out beneath our feet. And somehow, I feel more exposed to it than I’ve ever felt in my life.

CHAPTER 16: A point unmade The city was like a huge dark mass with tall rising steel and tiny lights blinking back at me from the large floor to ceiling glass windows. The office had long been empty with the nightfall. There was this still quietness I liked that made me stay back to clear my desk long after the staff had left.

The penthouse lights stayed dim even in daylight. Vanessa preferred it that way. Bright rooms invited comfort. Comfort dulled edges. She needed everything sharp. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city like a living blueprint. From this height, roads became arteries, buildings like organs with money and influence flowing invisibly beneath the surface. Damien stood near the glass with tablet in hand, jacket off and sleeves rolled, the posture of a man who had stopped asking why and moved straight into how fast.

At home, she paused at the window and drew the curtains before turning on the light. The heavy fabric caught on her chipped nail as she pulled it closed. Beyond the glass, the city glimmered in fractured neon: storefronts, car headlights, the distant red pulse of a radio tower. Briefly, she let the city’s glow outline her silhouette in the window, a shadow among other shadows.

I opened the door just a few inches and saw a small cardboard box sitting on the carpet with no name and no return address, so I pulled it inside and opened the lid while the others crowded around me to see what was inside. Resting on a bed of white tissue paper was a single rose made of delicate glass and the stem was broken in half so it looked dead and jagged, and I knew immediately that it was a message from Elena Romano because that rose was the symbol of the investment firm we had burned down in Berlin.

Chapter 61: Glass Panopticon The glass terminal of the Capital Sector central station was a sprawling grid of white steel and blinding holographic advertisements that blurred into a dizzying smear of color. Laila stepped off the private carriage, her heels clicking cleanly against the polished white quartz floor. The air inside the capital was different from the north; it didn't carry the wild scent of pine needles or the crisp bite of frost. Instead, it smelled of ozone, heavy recycling filters, and the sharp, chemical synthetic perfume worn by the upper echelons of high society.

I sit up on the desk. He pulls me off it and turns me around and walks me toward the window. The full floor-to-ceiling window with the whole city spread out below us forty floors down, lights everywhere, thousands of windows, and he presses me against the glass face first and the cold hits my bare breasts and I gasp. "Declan..." "The glass is one way," he says against the back of my neck. "Nobody can see in." His hands run down my sides, my hips, spreading me slightly. "But you can see them."