Death Note Notebook Rules Novels & Stories

Only the gentle ticking of an archive of a mountain, rising to the possibilities. I raised my brow. “You read it?” “No need.” Petra waved her hand, as if this was the most obvious thing to be done. “It's mine I know.” She inserted the letter in her notebook, and all the chaos was increased. Paper and notes were thrown out, and on the margins of the paper, mathematical symbols were alive. I stood a moment in silence, allowing the satisfaction of a job well done to sink in, before I spoke again. “You'll actually… abide by the rules this time?”

he commanded, instantly I walked back to my seat, but my mind was still concentrated on those documents. I stared at the serious man from my seat as I scooped the coffee and pancakes. It seemed like I was just brought here to look at this monster. “Mr Clara, I hope you've read those rules properly. Because once you break one of my rules you're fired.” His voice thickened, I scanned the tablets again. At least they weren't brutal like that of little Mira's rules. I read them out… Rule 1: Never come late to work or dress seductively.

“Third rule, no fighting, no killing, no maiming, no pranks on people, no breaking up relationships, no illegal business, no stealing, no smoking, and most importantly, for every good deal, get your money in cash or kind.” “Really? I said that last rule.” I shook my head at Nora. “You give the rules, but interpretation is within my rights, and you have no right to meddle in that.” Nora argued, her stance firm. “Suit yourself.” "Nain." “No skipping breakfast, lunch, and dinner and no acting or modeling if I am not in the top ten in class.” “Nika,” "Talking." “Okay, we all have that settled. Why don't we go take a look at your classes? I had barely just finished speaking when a heavy scent inf

He looked up when he heard me approaching, one eyebrow raised in quiet surprise. "I'll do it," I blurted before I could lose my nerve, my voice steadier than I felt. He raised his brow in amusement, letting the last smoke curl into the air. "I'll accept the offer." I cleared my throat. "But I have one rule. No catching feelings. No strings attached." Ace took another slow drag, then flicked the cigarette away. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, dark and knowing. "Crystal clear, sweetheart."

In its place: a new note. Rule fifteen: Next time, aim for the heart. – A I touched my lips. They were swollen. 354 days. Rule twelve broken by Marco. Rule one broken by us. And rule zero, the one written in blood on the library floor: Alessandro De Santis will start wars for what’s his.

Rule six: Every employee must go home on or before 8 PM. Rule seven: No gossip. Rule eight: No plagiarism of others' works. And finally the last but not the least. Rule nine: No noise.” Nora concludes. My eyebrows shoot up in disbelief as Nora's words sink in. "These rules are absurd!" I exclaimed. "Hush down. Lucian's spies are everywhere." Nora warns. I glanced around nervously, my eyes scanning the canteen for any sign of surveillance. "Speaking of spies, see one coming our way.” Nora murmurs, nodding discreetly in a certain direction.

I coughed up blood, a wet, rattling sound. Lesley planted his foot on my back and pressed down harder. "Ethan, your body's not worth much. Ms. Moore says ten grand—so that's the price for your company. Sign now, or you'll regret it." Everything blurred. My hands shook as I fumbled for the pen. Gritting my teeth, I muttered, "I'll sign..." After I signed, Lesley forced me to hand over the company seal and stamped it without even glancing at the papers.

He handed one to Lucas, one to Matteo and then turned to give me one. Lucas unfolded his first and stared. Then he barked out a laugh. “No.” Matteo unfolded his too and immediately groaned. “Oh no.” I looked down at mine. At the top, written in Draven’s shabby handwriting, were two words. HOUSE RULES I looked up and back at the paper before turning to look at Draven again. Had this man completely lost his mind? Draven cleared his throat. “Since we now have a newcomer in this house, structure is necessary for peace to reign.”

In my bag, I had a single, blank journal and a small bottle of indigo ink. ​The "Great Audit" was happening without us. The world was re-learning how to trust the touch of a hand and the smudge of a thumbprint. But here, in the quiet rattle of the train car, the only truth that mattered was the weight of Damian's hand in mine. ​"Rule 19," I whispered. ​"What's Rule 19?" he asked, pulling me closer. ​"The most important pages are the ones you leave blank for someone else to fill."

I sat up abruptly and turned on the bedside lamp. Four-thirty in the morning. Still pitch dark outside. I picked up my phone, opened the notes app, and started typing. If we were going to cohabitate, there would be rules. Clear, specific, enforceable rules. I was a lawyer. Drafting agreements was what I did. My fingers flew across the screen. Rule one: Brode Ramsden shall not, under any circumstances, enter Evelyn Winchester's bedroom. This includes but is not limited to knocking, forced entry, keypad override, or directing others to open the door on his behalf.