Final Call Book Novels & Stories

Lucien shouted through the static, and the sound of bells and panicked guests filled the earpiece. I watched the screen as the final digit of the offshore balance turned to zero.

I just stood there, frozen, staring at the phone. The girl paused, then said, a little thrown, "Liam? You there?" That voice—I knew it. It was Nina. Eighteen. Memories slammed into me like a wave. Twelve years ago, around this time, Nina called to tell me she was in love. I forced the panic down. My voice came out dry. "What do you want with Liam?" She hesitated. "Who is this?" I dodged it. "You're calling Liam Lambert... planning to confess, right?"

Chills ran down my spine, and my legs felt like they'd been filled with lead. The video continued playing, and the sounds made me feel like they were curses from hell. Despair washed over me. I shut my eyes, trying hard to calm myself. However, I only felt worse. The video cut off when my phone rang. I slowly opened my eyes to see Eugene calling. I'd saved his number as "honey"; it seemed particularly mocking now. When I answered, he taunted me. "I didn't expect you to be involved with my secretary. You've got some nerve."

I can do my job sounding like me, or like a robot. I finish the dregs of my coffee and sit down. Tyesha uses an old rotary phone that she brought with her to dial a number. I hear the person click onto the line. “Sir? This is Tyesha Taylor, calling with your confirmed counseling appointment. All is set up here on our end.” I hear a long pause from the client, and then a mumbled reply.

I said. “I am honored my Lord. The book in front of me has the list of all our suggested adjustments and where they are meant to be adjusted. That will make it easy when we want to point it out.” He said. “Thank you so much for your help. I haven’t spoken to Beta Timothy. I think I should call him and Gamma Samuel and inform them about the new development according to the roles we planned for each on of them.” I said. Lord Frederick nodded in affirmation. I picked up my phone and called Beta Timothy first but it wasn’t going through which means his network connection was poor. The alternative was to leave a message for him.

I was lounging at home, scrolling through social media, when a livestream title suddenly caught my eye—"The Other Woman Crash Course." Curious, I entered to see a woman talking animatedly, "My sugar daddy gives me 200,000 every month. I just need to keep him satisfied!" Viewers were doubtful and asked, "I don't believe you. Tell us how you two met." She smiled. "That's alright. You don't get to meet someone like that every day. I met him after doing a bone marrow transplant with his girlfriend three years ago. That's how I met this golden bachelor." I frowned. I had a bone marrow transplant three years ago too. Suddenly, the door opened, and she covered her phone in panic. A man's deep

"Okay." From that day on, every time I called him, he was buried in practice sets. He didn't stop, no matter the hour. The morning of the SAT, I got off my shift and saw a message from him.

A digitized melody from the Sterling Spire. "Exception logged " a voice whispered from the receiver. It was Julian's voice but with strange echoes. "The script is stable, Author. The shareholders are satisfied with the morning numbers. The anchor is losing its density. If you don't return to the floor by the twenty-fourth hour the baseline will finalize... And the manuscript will be permanently locked." The call disconnected with a snap. Elara dropped the phone onto the desk. She lunged for her laptop, her fingers flying across the keyboard. She needed to see her drafts. She needed to find the text files of The Billionaire’s Constraint.

something in the posture, the eyes, the careful way of holding a room. I call her. I read her the number. I hear her write it down. She calls me back in forty minutes. She says "It's a relay. Third party forwarding service. Whoever sent it didn't want to be found." I say "Can you trace it further?" She says "Not from here. I thank her. I hang up.

"How long is that going to take?" "I'm not sure," She answered, her voice beginning to break from the other end. "Can we book another?" I asked in desperation. "Yes but they have already been fully booked." "Fuck!" I hung up, tossing my phone to the bed. "It just keeps getting better and better." ***