Desperate Measures Read Online Novels & Stories

I was born with almost no sense that I deserved anything. The day I was born, I didn't think I deserved to actually be born in the delivery room, so I held onto my mother's umbilical cord for three days. It wasn't until she slipped away to the bathroom that I finally let go in relief, and dropped straight into the toilet. When I got kidnapped, I didn't think I deserved a seat in the trafficker's six-seat van. So, I wrapped myself around his leg and refused to get in. Then a sanitation worker rolled by pushing a garbage cart, and my eyes lit right up. I jumped on without a second thought. After that, the trafficker sold me eight separate times. Every single time, I handed the money ri

His heart was gradually consumed by humiliation and despair, and an overwhelming sense of self-loathing began to take root. When Ben's hand reached Dean's final line of defense, he finally closed his eyes, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. He felt his sanity begin to crack, the despair inside him transforming into a deep, gut-wrenching scream. "Yes... this is despair! This is what it feels like!" Suddenly, the figure of that messenger appeared in his mind. "Come back... come back quickly! I need to make a wish!"

"You sound desperate; I like the sound of that. Yes, we can meet. Tomorrow, my office is at 9 a.m.; don’t be late." I rolled my eyes even though I knew he could not see me; he must be feeling proud of himself right now. Yes, I was desperate, or I would have never contacted him. His request might be absurd, but his offer was enticing as well. I haven’t gained anything from being a good girl the whole year; maybe it is time I drop my self-righteousness and be a bad girl. I am ready to do whatever it takes to survive. **

Although it seemed like she had moved on, deep down, she feared times like this when people would look at her with judgemental eyes. “Aham...” the man cleared his throat and extended his hand, “I’m Davis, a manager from Glamor Entertainment.” Although, Meera’s reputation was not one to be proud of, Davis believed that the company could put the PR department to use and turn the tables, after all, Meera was a walking truck of money!

He's crazy, I won't be trapped. “Looks like I got the wrong target. Should I kill you now?” I also reached for the vase, within seconds my hit hit his head. Sret. So many crazy things have happened to me. Ah I don't know. *** ~Dinar Audrizka~ "Let me go. I will kill the person who has made me suffer. Or, should I just kill myself to end this?” Desperate, I could feel the feeling overpowering a Clarissa Mahendra. Even in this way, it is possible that the taste has even become a daily meal. The life of a Clarissa Mahendra can never be separated from despair.

Making my way home. Outside, it was freezing. To avoid the cold, I took a shortcut. At the final intersection, a figure suddenly appeared and seized my neck. I couldn't breathe, and the pain from the strangulation immediately surged. The System quickly went to work, completely cutting off my sense of pain. "You accursed brat! If it wasn't because of you, I wouldn't have gone to prison for two years! Die!" roared a man, who was holding something short. He raised it and immediately stabbed it in my chest.

He studies me again, long enough to make me uncomfortable, then he asks, “How many hours do you have left?” The question catches me off guard, “What?” “Before your father throws you out.” Every humor drains from my face. How…..how does he know that? I swallow, “Twenty-four hours.” His expression doesn’t change, “So you are desperate.” The word cuts through me like a blade. And I hate it. Desperation. “I'm not desperate.” “You offered two million dollars to marry a stranger so you are.” I open my mouth to argue, and close it back, damn it. I hate that he’s right. I really am desperate.

Was this how he lost his job? ​The last page hit the floor just as the office door opened. Alexander stepped out, his icy gaze sweeping the chaos at Adrian's feet. ​"Mr. Cole," his voice cut like a blade, "care to explain why my files are decorating the floor instead of my desk?" a

“Maybe he can help us figure something out. I can’t believe I’m even considering seeking help from that jerk.” Emma’s raised eyebrow spoke volumes. “Theodore?” she echoed, disbelief lacing her voice. “The same guy who threatened to fire us if you don’t get information on Pushkin?” My jaw tightened. I knew she was right. Theodore was the last person I wanted to see, but desperation gnawed at me. I nodded, my face burning with shame and a touch of desperation. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I mumbled, feeling like a hypocrite for seeking help from the very person who had thrust me into this mess. “I don’t see any other option right now.”

"We make it look like we didn't make it out of this garage alive." There was a pause, then Vera nodded slowly, piecing it together. "A final stand. One last desperate move. Enough chaos to make it believable." Cameron's brows furrowed. "And they'll just believe it? Just like that?" "They want us dead more than they want confirmation," I said. "We give them a scene soaked in blood and fire, and they'll move on." Elijah stepped into the light with a metal case. He knelt beside a scorched toolbox and flipped it open. Inside were pouches, blood packs, and melted gear. "I kept these for emergencies. Looks like this counts."