Fatal Flaws Book Novels & Stories

"You don't take enough time to find out what's beneath the surface when you meet these guys." "So you're saying it's my fault because I choose badly?" Peyton demanded. "There's no fault here, sweetie. It's just a fact. You write wonderful heroes in your books. Your readers fall in love with them, flaws and all. But I get the feeling you leave them on the pages of your book." "I don't understand." Peyton frowned at her.

I reply before taking a large gulp of my creamy hazelnut coffee, breathing in the intoxicating aroma. "Are you sure this is what you want, Princess?" My dad asked; he had never been keen on me leaving the pack. I try to bite down the irritation in my voice when I reply to him, "Dad, we've talked about this. The only way I can truly live my life is if I leave the pack. I'll forever be known as the pack traitor's daughter if I stay. I will continue to be ridiculed by the pack, and I'll be forced to live my days out on the outskirts of the pack. I'm meant for more than that, dad. I can feel it in my bones."

After losing his entire retirement savings to a scam, my father-in-law, Kyle Knight, tried to kill himself by overdosing on pills. I frantically called my husband, Joshua Knight, a psychology expert, hoping he could talk his father out of it. "Dad lost his entire retirement fund to a scam. He left a suicide note, and he's trying to kill himself. Come home!" Instead, Joshua snapped at me for making such a big deal out of it. "Your dad's made plenty of bad decisions before. Maybe this'll finally teach him a lesson. Don't bother me with stupid stuff like this again. I'm trying to watch a movie with Vanessa." For a second, I thought he hadn't heard me clearly. I was about to tell him that t

Emma, the fake heiress, and I were sold into an underground BDSM club. When my parents, the richest couple in the country, and my husband, Leo DeLuca, the feared Don of the DeLuca crime family, finally found us, I was bound with duct tape and covered in wounds. Emma lay beside me, heavily pregnant and unconscious. Three months later, doctors confirmed that her baby had died in the womb. She was the adopted daughter my parents had cherished for twenty years, and the girl my husband had never gotten over. My parents and husband went half mad, offering a nationwide one-hundred-million-dollar bounty for any lead on the person responsible. I was the only one who might have seen the culprit's face

A ·− N −· Y −·−− B −··· M −− Z −−·· C −·−· O −−− D −·· P ·−−· E · Q −−·− F ··−· R ·−· G −−· S ··· H ···· T − I ·· U ··− J ·−−− V ···− K −·− W ·−− L ·−·· X −··− Thank you all for reading my book hope you all are liking it. This book is the opposite of Utopia and if you know the definition of that…. then you will understand this world. Yet remember there will be holes in this story, and to fill those holes you must use your imagination to fill them in. Sometimes in writing less is more, a mystery even.

The word burned. Valentine leaned forward. “Say that again.” Mara held her gaze. “They did not design you to serve. They designed you to observe, adapt, and correct failures in others. You were meant to move between systems, not belong to one.” Valentine’s throat tightened. Not fear. Recognition. “They never expected you to choose yourself,” Mara continued. “That variable was unaccounted for.” Valentine straightened. “So now I am an error.” “You are a flaw that learned to sharpen itself,” Mara said. “And flaws terrify architects.”

"Stop using me as an excuse! Do you have any idea what they say about me at school? They call me the child of a mistress, a sewer rat! Everyone looks at me with contempt. When I try to talk to them, they avoid me like garbage!" Milo's eyes were bloodshot, and his expression was contorted. He looked at his mother as if she were his worst enemy. "It's all your fault! If you had not become a mistress, I would not be suffering like this!" Monica listened to her son's bitter accusations with tears streaming down her face. In the next moment, a metallic glint reflected in the depths of her pupils. "It's your fault! It is all your fault!" Hot blood trickled down the knife handle.

Jamal leaned closer “Melissa. Tell me what it is saying.” “It thinks I am a system error,” I said. “Then it is wrong,” he said instantly. The certainty in his voice hit something fragile inside me and the failsafe spoke again. You are not error. You are drift. Drift becomes collapse. I stared at it across the plateau and then I said the most dangerous thing I could think of. Then why were you activated now. Silence, long, heavy. Then because another anomaly has already begun divergence, my stomach dropped. Where another pause then the failsafe lifted its hand and pointed.

He could never win with her, never get a word in. When the flashback ended, Bashir Bakura cursed himself for being so unsuccessful at the time, for taking the money Bushratou's father had offered and gone abroad to make a name for himself in architecture. It was one of his worst decisions. His second most regretted decision was never checking up on the child Bushratou had and his worst ever decision, was marrying Yaana. He regretted it bitterly.

He had been so hard on himself that he pushed everyone away but now, seeing the two of them together gave her hope; Najmah was slowly bringing back her son to life. {••} Najmah had showered and changed into a red fit and flare dress, wrapped a veil in a turban style before strolling towards the library. Pushing the door open, she went in, walking towards the books and picked the first book that caught her eye; “The Devil Wears Prada” by Lauren Weisberger. She sank into the beanbag chair, getting completely immersed in the story. When she was done reading, she returned the book back where she took it then proceeded to look for another book to read.