Desi Stories Novels & Stories

Didn’t try to explain more. “Why did you lie to me?” I asked, breaking the silence between us. He looked up at me, clearly caught off guard. “What do you mean?” “All those stories you told me,” I continued, trying to keep my voice steady. “About growing up in a small apartment in Atlanta. About learning to code on a second-hand laptop while your mom worked double shifts and your dad had lost his job.” He stared at me, stunned, as if he hadn’t expected me to figure it out.

Don't get it wrong. Sometimes stereotypes were spot on correct and sometimes they weren't. This was again, another case in Brianna Samuels. She wasn't one of those bitches that everyone knew about because of stereotypes, that lived for gossip and brought people down just so they felt better about themselves. Okay, well Brianna did live for gossip, but mostly the harmless type of gossip and she definitely did not live to step on people. The type of gossip she lived for would basically be classified as petty theft in contrast to murder. Basically who dated who and who's hot and whatnot.

Bella’s POV. Whoever said money couldn't buy happiness was a terrible liar, because for the past three days, my happiness knew no bounds. I'd always wanted a vacation to Hawaii, and when my husband surprised me with the tickets, I was super giddy about it. Hawaii was that place that always reminded me that sometimes, all I needed was to relax, sip coconut water and enjoy beach performances. This vacation would have been even more memorable if James–my husband decided to come along. But unfortunately, he had an impromptu meeting with new investors, and the tickets were already booked.

I wanted to choke on his cock and then ride it till I couldn't walk anymore. Davin seemed like a very complicated man. He was cold and never spoke unless it was necessary. The world knew he was a billionaire, a top CEO in the Mafia world. But I suspected he was a shady man, he probably had hands in the underworld, which was why he never allowed me into his study. Said it was private stuff not meant for me to know.

It’s been three days since I started talking to Jason on my socials, he asks questions trying to know more about me. Asking about my family, where I am from, where I’m based. Coincidentally, we stay in the same city, just few miles away from each other. He spams me with his pictures, always shirtless, and he has nice worked out abs and chest. He also has a cute face, and a nice voice. We make midnight calls, talking for hours, mostly dirty talks. Which builds sexual tensions between us, he asks me to send him sexy videos of myself, and I spam him with my regular videos.

Me and my thirsty pussy would have to wait. When I got back home, I was surprised to see that Lisa, my roommate, was already back from work. She’d been working as a cashier at a supermarket for almost a year now. Unlike me who had rich parents, she dare not sit idle in the hopes that someone from anywhere would send her money. “You’re back early today,” I remarked as I started shrugging off my clothes. One part of me was fantasizing that it was Father Gabriel’s hand, instead of my own.

Desi's work is really neat; no wonder Mas Suma really loves her. Mas Suma once told me about Desi. She started working as an ordinary employee, because of her achievements she got to his current position. The company also provides educational facilities for employees who have a will. Desi is one of them. Desi's loyalty is unquestionable. As secretary, she is ready at all times. Mas Suma said she didn't get married after his fiancé died in an accident a few days before the wedding day. So tragic. Busy work makes her feel comfortable and slightly forget the bad memories. That is what made her feel at home working at Mas Suma's side.

"Used to be. Gave it up when the stories started costing more than they were worth." That answer carried weight, the kind that invited questions but also warned against them. I set the mug on the low table in front of me and leaned forward slightly. "What kind of stories?" "The kind that get people hurt when they come out wrong. Or when they don't come out at all." I felt a flicker of recognition then, something tugging at the back of my mind like a half-remembered name. "You sound like someone who has been burned by the industry."

Mia nodded, watching as he crossed to the desk and poured two glasses of red wine. His movements were confident and economical, no wasted motion. "To unexpected connections," he said, offering her a glass. "To breaking routine," she countered, taking it. Their fingers brushed during the exchange, the first contact between them sending a small jolt through her body. She took a sip to hide her reaction, finding the wine rich and velvety. "So," Alex said, leaning against the desk. "Who are you when you're not putting on shows for strangers across the way?" The directness of his question made her laugh.