First Move Sa Chat Novels & Stories

For her age, Annalia is too skeptical and callous. She indifferently accepted the move from the metropolis to a provincial town on the shores of the open sea. And with the same indifference, she agreed to spend a couple of months in a psychoneurological sanatorium. This is how her meaningless gray days would have passed, if not for new acquaintances from neighboring houses. Having become interested in Leah, they radically change her life and saturate her with all shades of emotions. But is she able to accept all the changes?

I had just gotten home when a parent in my son’s class group chat erupted: [Ms. Zinn, what kind of place are you running? Do you let just any random stray off the street become a teacher?] [My daughter came home, grabbed two forks, and tried to jump off the balcony. She said it was Miss Never who told her to!] The homeroom teacher panicked and denied it at once, insisting there was no such person as Miss Never at the kindergarten. She even posted the official teaching schedule in the chat to prove it. On the security footage, there was not a single trace of this so-called Miss Never. However, later, my son whispered to me in secret, “Mom, Miss Never is an old lady with a cat’s face.” “She says only kids can see her.”

A year after my divorce, my ex-husband, Harvey Fisher, pings me in a group chat. "This cold war has gone on for long enough. Come home—let's remarry." I reply, "Have you lost your mind?" Everyone in the group chat tries to convince me to take Harvey back. Meanwhile, he asks, "What have you been doing without me in your life?" I turn to look at my current husband, who's putting our child to sleep. I reply, "Recovering after having a child." The group chat members are initially excited, but they instantly fall silent at my words. Harvey angrily calls me countless times, but I ignore him. His mind is not the only thing he's lost—he's also lost the young woman who once loved him more than life itself.

In the third year I've decided to support my girlfriend, Iris Fulton, by opening a flower shop, she has gone into bankruptcy once again. The first time she went bankrupt, I sold the house my grandma had left for me so that I could clear the debt of 700 thousand dollars. The second time she went bankrupt, I was able to locate the bank passbook Mom had left for me as a wedding gift. That was how I paid back one million and six hundred thousand dollars. The third time Iris has gone bankrupt, however, I can only grip the note with my filthy rich dad's phone number while staring at her lost and dazed expression. At that time, I'm debating whether or not I should call him. But that night, I accidentally notice the chat history on Iris' group chat that's displayed on her tablet. "Hey Iris, how many figures are you going to fill into the sum of the bankruptcy contract that's supposed to be cleared this time?" "Let's put ten million dollars. Otherwise, that flower-selling plaything will be able to clear the debt in one go. It'll make things very boring." "As expected of you, Iris! I heard that the plaything waters flowers in the morning and waters your 'flower garden' at night. You're never tired of him, are you?" I put down Iris' tablet before calling my dad right away. "You want me to take over the family business and marry your student, right? Fine, I'll do it. Get your men to pick me up in three days."

Angel Moretti. He was the love of my life. I always knew he was ever since we were kids. We did everything together. His name is Ryder ‘Savage’ Jackson. He was my world, my everything. Until he brutally ripped my heart from my chest three years ago. He tore my heart to shreds when he humiliated me by claiming another woman in his clubhouse, in the same bed we once shared. Savage by name, Savage by nature. He didn’t even give me a chance to tell him the news I had just accused me of cheating. Me, Angel Moretti. Like I would ever do that to him. So I ran, I ran from the pain he caused me. Ran from my family. Not wanting to be seen as the disgrace, but mainly to save him and his MC from annihilation. So I fled with the life we created growing inside of me. But all good things must come to an end. When he walks into my bar three years later. So what do I? Do I run? Or face the man who destroyed me? What could go wrong? Well, everything apparently. Ryder ‘Savage’ Jackson. She was my Angel, my goddess sent to me from heaven and I fucked it up. I claimed someone I shouldn’t have and paid dearly for it. I was a damn fool to believe the lies and bullshit. Missing out on the most precious gift Angel could give me. But I will make it right. Angel Moretti thinks she can get away from me with my kid. She has another thing coming, especially when I claim them both as mine. She will have no choice but to move back home with me. She may be a Mafia Princess, but she is mine!

My roommates booked a New Year's Eve light show table—five hundred per person—and started urging me in the group chat to transfer the money. I quietly sent a screenshot of my account balance. "You guys go ahead," I wrote. "I haven't even scraped together my tuition yet." They replied with a string of mocking "haha"s. Our dorm leader, Giselle Murdoch, even posted on her social media with the caption: [The first step to crossing class boundaries is distancing yourself from people who kill the mood.] Just after midnight, they sent me a photo from the light show and said, "Too bad you're not here." I frowned, confused, when my counselor's call cut in—her voice tight with urgency. "Did you invite your roommates to the light show? The organizers said they never even checked in! They're missing!"

I had just been confirmed as a match and was preparing to donate a kidney to my husband's adoptive sister. That night, she left her iPad in the living room. The screen was still on, showing her chat with the doctor: [Doctor, please don't tell my sister-in-law. If she has a kidney removed, her hidden heart condition will flare up, and she won't live longer than three months.] The next day, I canceled the donation without a second thought. My husband flew into a rage. He called me cold-blooded and forced me to sign a divorce agreement that left me with nothing. The next day, I stood outside the hospital room and heard my sister-in-law laughing smugly. "She's so stupid. I faked one chat screenshot, and she actually believed she was sick. Now her penthouse is mine, and we can finally be together openly." My husband kissed her. "Good girl. Later, I'll find you a good kidney on the black market." Outside the door, I sneered. Of course, I knew the chat log was fake. I had come back from the future, after all. In two weeks, the zombie outbreak would begin. Those two so-called siblings who were actually lovers would not only steal my medicine, they would push me out to feed me to the zombies. This time, with only four days left before zombie hordes overran the city, I wanted to see how long a sick woman without a new kidney and a scumbag without supplies could last in that penthouse.

The day before the company retreat, the CEO suddenly sent a message in the company group chat. [How's your leg?] The group chat, which had been buzzing with excitement just moments before, instantly went silent. To protect the CEO's dignified image, I immediately found a CT scan report and sent it into the chat. [Thank you for your concern, Mr. Graham. I already got my leg checked. The doctor said it's nothing serious.] This time, the CEO replied almost immediately. [Good. I'm glad you're okay. You can submit the claims for medical expenses. You can also take another two weeks off.] The group chat instantly flooded with comments praising him. [Mr. Graham is so thoughtful.] [He really cares about his employees.] I was secretly proud of my high emotional intelligence when I suddenly received a friend request from someone claiming to be the CEO's fiancee. [So you're the homewrecker who's been seducing Christopher at work! You're really something, aren't you? Why would he ask about your leg in the middle of the night? [If you have the guts, send your leg photos to the group chat and let everyone admire them!] The sip of water I just took nearly sprayed all over my screen I looked down at the dog curled up in my arms. Its name was Hammie. I then glanced at the family photo hanging on the wall. What homewrecker? I was literally the CEO's mother!

"Do not tell this to your mother or your stepfather. Do you understand?" He pointed his finger at me, emphasizing his words. I retorted loudly, "What if I do? Are you trying to threaten me?" "Yes, I am," he said with his eyebrow raised. "I am threatening you, and my threats are real and dangerous, dear stepsister," he stated and then leaned in to add sharply, "A tip for later: take my threats seriously," ..... When Sarah's mother marries a billionaire, they move into his opulent residence, where Sarah encounters her stepbrother who turns out to be her first crush, but also a person with a dark and malevolent mindset. Will Sarah's feelings for her stepbrother evolve into a toxic tale? Will their romance be filled with passion and love, or will it lead to something painful and agonizing?

After scoring high on the college entrance exams, I used my brother, Cameron Morrow’s laptop to look up dresses for my university acceptance party. Just as I was about to close his chat app that had been automatically logged in, a group chat notification suddenly popped up on the screen. "Naomi’s been in a bad mood lately. Let’s go somewhere with her for a few days and come back before Stella’s party." Something in my chest tightened, so I clicked into the chat without thinking. There were only four people inside: Dad, Mom, Cameron, and my cousin, Naomi Gibson. Then Cameron replied, "Fine. Just don’t bring Stella. I’m sick of her. If she hadn’t hidden Naomi’s exam admission ticket on the last day, Naomi wouldn’t have failed the exams." Mom quickly responded, "I never thought Stella would stoop that low just to fight for attention. Good thing she still did well on the exams. I heard reporters from the local station are coming to interview her at the party. The relatives are all desperate to attend." Then Dad sent a voice message. "Oh, right, isn’t Naomi trying to become an influencer? Tell her to dress up nicely that day." I stared at the glowing screen, my nails digging hard into my palm. Then suddenly, I laughed. Picking up my phone, I called my homeroom teacher, Ms. Adrianna Wilson. "Ms. Wilson, I’m canceling the party. And please cancel the media interview too."