Deleted Stories Novels & Stories

“Is it true?” I clicked the link she had sent. It led to a notorious gossip blog, the kind that thrived on the wreckage of the elite. The headline was plastered in bold, neon-orange font: "THE DEVEREUX DISASTER: The Truth Behind the Gilded Cage." I scrolled down, my vision swimming. It wasn't just a rumor about the gala. It was a systematic dismantling of my entire life.

Then, I went back to my room to pack my bags. That night, as I was getting ready for bed, a good friend suddenly messaged me. [Holy crap, Xavier! Look what I photographed!] I clicked on it and saw Kelly and Hayden shopping at a famous mall in Jazzville. Kelly’s fingers were interlaced with Hayden’s. Their bodies were pressed close together, looking like the perfect picture of a couple deeply in love. Perhaps they became like this long before I was aware of it. My friend was indignant. [How shameless! They cheated on you! You were so good to them. I can't deal with this!]

Whenever someone tried to speak out, the story disappeared before it could reach a wider audience. Witnesses withdrew statements. Articles vanished. Conversations were buried. This time was different. The story had escaped containment before anyone could stop it. Too many people had already seen it. Too many copies existed. Too many voices were asking the same questions. No matter how much money or influence Raymond possessed, there was no practical way to erase thousands of posts, videos, screenshots, and discussions appearing every minute. As public interest exploded, people began digging through the past. Old newspaper articles resurfaced.

"I didn't do anything! This is all a misunderstanding!" Deep down, she felt a shiver of relief. She had already deleted all the messages where she had taunted Evelyn. Matteo barely glanced at the screen before he saw through her act. Without hesitation, he grabbed the phone, already dialing a number. He was going to send it to an expert who could recover every deleted message. The moment Rebecca realized what he was doing, it felt like the world was caving in. She lunged forward, grabbing his arm in desperation.

Joel pulled the design draft straight out of his bag and handed it to Vivian. A smug look flashed across her face as she glanced at me. I let out a soft laugh. So whether I agreed or not, the outcome was the same. When I returned home from the hospital, I looked around at the memories I once shared with them. And I made a decision. I would erase everything related to me. Not a single trace left behind. The wedding photos on the wall, the carefully preserved family portraits—everything I once treasured—went straight into the trash.

"Not that it'll do you much good. She hasn't posted anything since she left. Probably scared I'd track her down." Maddox didn't even look up. "Not important. I’m not looking for something recent. I want posts from five or six years ago." Then he scrolled. And scrolled. And scrolled. "This is a pain in the ass," He muttered under his breath, eyes still glued to the screen. "But I don’t give a fuck." I shook my head, watching as he continued scrolling all the way down to her very first I*******m post—only to realize that everything from three years ago had been wiped clean.

Articles that had been there seconds ago were suddenly gone. I frowned, scrolling faster. “Wang,” I said without looking up, “come here.” He stepped closer, wiping his hands on a towel. “What is it?” “They’re wiping it.” “What?” “The news,” I said, turning the screen slightly toward him. “It was here. Now it’s not.” He leaned in, his expression sharpening. “That’s not normal.” “No,” I said quietly. “It’s controlled. It happens automatically. Since no one can fully remove the material from the internet, it was made into a trap. If you click in, it gets wiped off.” I leaned back slightly, biting down on my lower lip.

Now. I drop the phone. Slump back in the chair. The juice sits there, untouched. I stare at the blank koala on my screen and suddenly feel like crying. Too late. The leak’s been deleted. The emails scrubbed. But the world already saw. Screenshots exist. Memes are probably being made. Dorothy. Fuck. I whisper under my breath. “I’m so fucking sorry, Dorothy…”

Then, suddenly, they were stumbling over their words as they all began promising exclusives and favorable coverage by the next hour. Lorcan ignored all of them. "Let's go back," he said to me. I nodded. We walked out together. I pulled out my phone out of my bag as we moved down the hallway. When I opened it, the first thing I saw was the link that Hanna had sent me earlier. The story was gone when I tapped in it. And that wasn't all. The second one was gone too. A few were still up. But they were buried so far down the search results they were practically invisible.

He didn't feel any remorse or even have any understanding, he just felt entitled instead. Disgust crawled through me slowly. Harlan had already destroyed her once and he should have stayed away from her permanently after that. Darius glanced at me carefully. “You’re crushing the glass.” I looked down and noticed the whiskey tumbler in my hand had cracked slightly beneath my grip. I released it immediately and silence returned. Then, Darius spoke again. “There’s more.” I gave him a look. “The social threads connected to the rumors started disappearing this morning.” “Removed?”