Discretion Novels & Stories

Said Adi, rather excited. Master Shrock and Sho were both silent. “Bro, it’s like my journey don end, it’s your time to take over” said my brother. “Huh”. I was truly dazed. James had always done everything on a whim. He never considered outcomes or possibilities. He would never weigh his decisions. He just went with……. The simplest answer. But not this time……. this time, I wasn’t just going to accept his whims. “Smoky cloud Prime, this isn’t a debate, let me die, and let Jude take-over”

A feeling of pure ecstasy was running through her veins when she heard a creak of the door and in the next second an taunting but angry voice of a woman pierced through her haze, "Well...., I certainly did not expect to see my fiancé whoring around in his own office in the broad daylight!"

Time comments from where he is walking around the living area, deciding on mini statue in the shape of a lion to comment harshly on. “I’m inclined to agree,” I say dismissively. Thought looks at me pointedly while I smother a smile. To be honest, it’s enjoyable watching the way Time twists Thoughts patience. No one bothers him more than Time, so it’s interesting to see him try to rein in his anger. Time winks at me, clearly aware of my motive. There is no way Thought is going to send his brother away when there is information on the line. Thought stands, putting down his glass that was once filled with some kind of murky alcohol. “I’m going to bed. You two can keep yourselves entertained wit

Just trust and the choice to stay or to walk away. I looked up, stunned. “I would have to let you do… all these things to me?” “Yes. Every single word. I’ll be your teacher. You’ll be my good little student… if you sign it.” He’d written “Owner’s discretion” in bold ink like it was the main dish. I blinked. “What the hell does ‘owner’s discretion’ even mean?” I muttered, half to myself. Corian leaned in. “It means… I decide how far we go. And you trust me not to take it too far.”

I wanted to go back to Del Mar and away from the decision I'd made. "Companionship," I whispered. "Excuse me?" "Companionship, not sex, not prostitution," I said louder, forcing my eyes to meet his. "Are you insinuating there's a difference?" I lifted my chin defiantly. "Yes." He released my wrists and led me to the sofa. I followed, mindful of his hands and doing my best to avoid landing across his lap again. This time we both sat. "Let me tell you what I understand," Nox said.

She had no choice but to take the last option she had. “I’m so sorry, Aunt. I decided last night, even if you demur, I will still do it. Because I'll be gone for six months, you'll need to explain it to the press and my group," Vesta stated emphatically. She stood up dignified and walked through the door. “Vesta Fades! When have you learned to be hardheaded?” The angry voice of Aunt Elena caused Vesta to stop and turn back to face her.

Not hesitation — the considered pause of someone deciding how much to say, where the boundary of professional discretion sat in a situation where discretion and honesty were in slight tension. "She's managing it," Dr. Okafor said. "Which is her phrase. She told me: I'm managing it. I asked her what managing it looked like and she said she had gone for a very long walk and then come home and made coffee and looked at the result three more times to confirm she had read it correctly the first time." A pause. "She has a particular quality, Anna, of sitting with things before she acts on them. She'll need a few days."

My jaw clenched. “I assume that won’t be an issue,” she added. I exhaled slowly through my nose. “I don’t intend to cause any problems,” I said. “Intentions are not always enough,” Mireille replied. The politeness stayed. The message didn’t soften. “This is a formal environment,” she went on. “There will be people present who expect a certain standard. Discretion is essential.” Discretion. Like I was something unstable. “I understand,” I said, even though my chest burned.

The committee chair called for statements before the final tally, and Adrian read his prepared remarks plainly, without embellishment. "I understand the instinct to reward voluntary disclosure," he said, looking around the table rather than down at his notes. "I've benefited from that instinct myself, in a different context, and I've spent considerable time this week examining whether that experience is clouding my judgment here. I've concluded that it is not, because the two situations aren't actually comparable. My disclosure protected a business relationship and, eventually, my marriage. This disclosure comes months after a worker suffered a serious injury that could have been prevented e

“Are you there?” “I’m here.” “I need you to understand something. If this gets out before we’re ready, before you’ve told Noah everything, before I’ve figured out what I’m doing about Maya, before any of the pieces are actually in place, it doesn’t just complicate things. It takes the decision out of our hands completely. We lose the ability to control how any of this is said, to who, in what order.” He paused. “I have built a career on discretion. I have patients who trust me with things they don’t tell anyone else. If this becomes something people talk about in hallways, it isn’t just our lives that get exposed. It’s every part of how I do my work.”