Famous Last Words The Book Novels & Stories

The edges were charred, the cover stained with water and old blood. "I found this in Roshan’s tent. After the tribunal. After everyone fled." He held it out to me. "It has your name in it. Not 'The Traveler'. Not 'The Ghost'. Just Elma." The Words of the Dead I took the book. The leather felt warm, or perhaps that was just my imagination. I retreated into the workshop, Harlan following silently. I sat on a workbench, the smell of sawdust and linseed oil surrounding me, and opened the first page.

This is the section filled with books that will serve as a solution to one's disastrous life battle. I almost lost to the sight of it that almost reach the highest roof. The man behind me said with a husky yet awed-filled voice, “You're right. It was the classic brought upon the battle of oneself. It was written by the very known...” His voice disrupted by his emotion that suddenly flared. His silence and deep breathing was something I thought as a kind of reminisce for something so dare to him. Suddenly my mind flickered, show a devastating scene. “What...” I gasped, step back with my weakened knees. My mind so strange, and it was so far to a possibly acceptable nature. It give me the taste

Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters appearing in this work are a work of fiction and only a product of my imagination. Enjoy reading! ------ Did you ever wonder when will be your last day living in this world? What will be the last word you will say to your loved ones, who will be the last person that you will see at your last moment. It's either a doctor or a person who will bring an end to you?

No daylight, no damn ventilation, just me, four walls, and the lingering scent of piss and betrayal. I wasn’t chained up like some criminal. No, they wanted me alive enough to bleed slowly. I clenched my jaw, as my thoughts drifted somewhere else with blood crusted at the corner of my mouth, the metallic taste making me growl. The only thing ringing in my head louder than the news broadcast was one word: Alessia and The White Book. That file was my damn insurance policy and my last resort to destroy everything that existed in the Mafia Family. A powerful ledger so vile, so goddamn explosive it would make the FBI piss their pants and make the Mafia run for cover.

"It's over. You're safe now." I leaned onto his chest, my tears soaking through his shirt. In that moment, I knew without a doubt that I had made the right choice. - They said Jared was sent to a psychiatric hospital. He would speak to the empty air every day as though someone invisible stood before him. Sometimes, he would suddenly go quiet and smile toward the window, as if seeing something beautiful. The nurses whispered that he often repeated the same words. "Rosalia, I'll be a good man in the next world."

Atlas reached out with a numb hand and clicked the radio off. The silence that followed was absolute, terrifying, and profound. The last fragile thread of hope that had sustained us through the nightmare of the Keep snapped in an instant. No armies were coming to save us. There was no safe territory waiting over the mountains. The entire world was burning, devoured by the same grotesque horror that had taken Sia, Timmy, and Marcus. Vanya sank onto a wooden stool, burying her face in her hands as silent, hopeless tears spilled through her eyes. Kenny stared at the black radio with wide, hollow eyes, his shoulders slumping under the weight of total despair.

For once, he seemed unsure which version of the night would hurt him less. The label assistant connected my phone to the screen. My mother's notebook appeared behind the stage. Evelyn Lane, 2008. When the last firework fades, promise me you'll still look at the sky. A murmur moved through the room. Lily went pale. Before anyone could speak, a message dropped down from the top of the screen. Nathaniel Reed: Royal Albert Hall confirmed the private ceremony slot. The program is locked. The room went quiet. "Reed Music Group?" someone whispered near the bar. "They back half the serious rooms in London."

Dante himself seemed to notice nothing. Hearing those words, I thought of something from years ago. I had handled several asset restructuring cases for allied families back then. Every proposal I wrote myself, and the clients signed on the last page without reading the rest. They trusted me. I used to think that if you did good work, people would see it and respect it.

He stared at the books, deciding which one to choose. As his eyes lingered on them, memories surfaced of how his mother used to read bedtime stories to him and his sister… until she was killed. Alina noticed the change in his expression and was about to ask what was wrong when Laim reached out and picked a book. She moved closer to see which one he chose, and her eyes widened in surprise. It was her favorite book. “Seven Days Before Goodbye.”

And that is a story that will last forever. END OF BOOK