Fnaf Security Breach Artwork Novels & Stories

Claire nodded, then groaned as he withdrew his finger from her pulsing, aching sex. She heard him walk down the hallway, heard him open the drawer in the bedside table, heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper, heard him approach her again. And that whole time, she stayed where she was: legs trembling and open, hands clenched into fists on the wall, heart pounding and pussy fluttering. Suddenly, he was on her, his cock nudging her from behind, his hands on her hips. Claire whimpered again, pushed back against him. **** John “Griff” Griffin lives by rules. Always has. From the Navy to the SEALs to his job as a bodyguard at Solid Security, control is survival. Protocol saves lives. Boundaries exist for a reason, especially during honeypot ops. Break the rules, and people get hurt. Griff knows that better than anyone. The problem is Claire Worthington. Claire is supposed to be a spoiled socialite hiding after a billion-dollar Ponzi scheme. A criminal. A mark. Instead, she’s living quietly in Denver: working, rebuilding, and starting over like she actually means it. She doesn’t look guilty. She looks… real. When Griff breaks every rule and falls for her, it feels like freedom. It’s also a lie. He’s hiding his name, his job, and the truth – that he was sent to get close and gather evidence. If Claire knew, would she forgive him? Should she? And if she really is guilty, will Griff turn her in… or protect the woman he loves, no matter the cost?

Selene Rivers was an upcoming singer and her future was bright until the moment when she received a phone call which was supposed to elevate her but ends up ruining her life. During the night, she was declared a fraud, beat up on the street, run over by a car and charged with committing a crime she never committed. Her husband framed her. Her songs were stolen by her best friend. And the world thought that she was dead. Selene lost her voice, her face and her child who she believed was dead at birth in jail. Somebody wanted her to go permanently. The job was nearly done by a gang attack, but was rescued by billionaire Ronan Blackwood, who is the best friend of her husband, and provided her with a new name, a new face, and a second life. Now Selene is willing to reclaim all the things that had been stolen. With a new name she comes back to the music world and reveals the lies, the betrayal, and the secrets that took her to the hell. Her revenge, however, reveals a bigger truth, that her son is alive, and he has lived under her roof all along. As she struggles to seek justice and reclaim her life, she begins to feel something she has never anticipated, that is, love, comfort, and security in the arms of Ronan. Her past tried to bury her. Her opponents attempted to mute her. But she is done running. This is the time she will have her voice back. This time she will save her child. This time, it will be her own choice of the future.

Slade Norris is a trust fund baby, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t work for a living. In fact he works himself to the bone running a PR firm, security company and … oh yeah, he manages one of the world’s most famous hard rock bands: Feisty. While Slade may have been born with a silver spoon he’s worked extremely hard to prove himself, and make it on his own two feet. As a teenager he met four rough and rowdy boys who were looking to create a band and get famous. Slade knew he was the guy to make it happen and to ensure his buddies didn’t get taken advantage of along the way One big monkey wrench in their plans of world domination in the entertainment world: Slade’s childhood girlfriend and then high school sweetheart Holly Anderson. Holly had been around the guys of Feisty since their inception and was an integral part of helping them write songs and stay on track. Since Holly was a year younger than Slade and the guys, she was stuck at home finishing her senior year when the guys hit it big and left on a world tour. What happened shortly after has haunted them all for their entire adult lives. Can the universe intervene and bring this couple back together for one more chance? Find out in the final installment of my Feisty Series: How To Forgive. This book can be read as a stand alone but it would be best read as the final book in the series as it answers a lot of lingering questions left by the first four books! Thank you for reading.

Anaan Cole has always been in control of his life,his choices, his future, and especially his heart. Love has never been a priority, and marriage was something he planned to do on his own terms. Until his grandfather’s will says otherwise. To inherit the empire built over generations, Anaan must marry Nancy Mawethu,the daughter of his late grandfather’s former security officer, a man he once wronged. It feels like a cruel obligation,one Anaan intends to fulfill without letting it change him.But Nancy is not the kind of woman who blends quietly into anyone’s world. Strong, guarded, and quietly defiant, she agrees to the marriage for reasons of her own. She carries questions about her father’s past,questions the incidence that the Cole's family seems determined to avoid. Their marriage begins as nothing more than an agreement,two strangers tied together by a promise neither of them made. There are rules, boundaries, and an understanding to keep emotions out of it. But living under the same roof makes distance impossible. What starts as tension slowly shifts into something more complicated,stolen glances, unexpected conversations, and dreamy moments neither of them can avoid nor explain. Anaan begins to see a side of Nia he didn’t expect and Nancy starts to question the side of Anaan she thought she could never understood. As the truth about the past begins to surface, so do feelings they never planned for. Now, they must decide either to walk away when the obligation is fulfilled or risk everything for a love that was never meant to

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

"Manager, it's her! I saw it with my own eyes! She stuffed that limited-edition necklace from the display case right into her clothes!” The weekend mall was packed. Out of nowhere, a woman with that perfectly curated influencer look blocked my path and started yelling at the top of her lungs. The crowd waiting in line for coffee instantly froze and turned to stare. I blinked, caught off guard, and was just about to say something. But she didn't give me a chance. She lunged forward and yanked hard at my work jacket. A few brand-new gold necklaces, still with their tags on, hit the marble floor. "Oh my God, you guys! The evidence is right there! Someone call the cops and get this woman arrested—ruin her life, send her straight to prison!” People whipped out their phones to record. A couple of young guys even rolled up their sleeves, ready to play hero. I looked down at the gold chains on the floor, then patted my pocket—where my plainclothes loss-prevention officer badge was sitting—and let out a dry, incredulous laugh. This was the exact stash of stolen goods I'd confiscated just five minutes ago from a trash can in the women's restroom during an ongoing theft bust. So how did she—a random shopper—know exactly where the evidence was on me? And more than that, how did she manage to track me down and block my route to the security office with mall management in tow, all within a single minute?

In our galaxy, there are at least twenty billion Earth-like planets able to sustain life. My name is Skye. I am eighteen years old. Our astronautic scientists discovered a planet within our galaxy with human life similar to ours. By probing this planet’s satellite systems, they have learnt that wars have wracked this world over many millennia, where various zealots strive for dominance. Before setting out on a twenty-year expedition to visit this planet, our group has spent a year being educated in the various languages of this alien world and acquiring the skills to survive in any hostile environment we may find ourselves in. OUR DESTINATION IS EARTH. SKYE is the first book in a trilogy. It is a coming-of-age adventure of Skye, a young alien girl, and her fight to survive in a post-apocalyptic world governed by fundamentalists. After surviving a meteoroid tsunami, her spaceship crash lands in the Mexican wilderness. One of the survivors, Judah, a gifted physician from a superior technological civilization, is discovered in the desert and taken to Texas. Judah is promoted as the new Messiah by a right-wing extremist known as ‘The Preacher’. The Preacher’s propaganda machine convinces America’s devastated survivors that it was the sins of the world’s population that, as prophesized in the Bible, brought down the wrath of God. Judah is exploited to restore the people’s faith in the divinity of God as decreed by the Preacher’s tyrannical interpretation. The Preacher aims to reverse the emancipation achieved by Abraham Lincoln in 1863 and bring about a dictatorship through the reunification of America. Skye must put her trust in a member of the Preacher’s security team to rescue Judah from this new confederacy.

At my father's wake, my wife came in carrying her son. The boy was less than two years old. He was not mine. In front of me, in front of every person there to mourn my father, she opened the urn and held the boy over it. I screamed and lunged for the urn. The Vance security team was on me before I cleared the aisle. They held me on the floor. My father's ashes, mixed with the boy's urine, smeared across my face and into my mouth. I could not stop crying. Stella Vance straightened her skirt. "Zane has been crying every night. Our adviser said the ash of an honored elder will calm a child like that. Good for his health." The taste of metal came up the back of my throat. Before I could move, she was already at the door. "Have his ashes dried out by morning. Zane will need it again tomorrow night." By the time I came back to myself, she was gone. I held the rage in. I sent her one message. "You think you're going to do this to my father. You're insane. The divorce papers are coming." After that, every message I sent was blocked. I turned to the woman next to me, the woman who had stood beside me my whole life. And I said, "I will sign the company over to you. Help me bury Vance Group." Cassia Wynn looked at me a long time. "I don't want the company. I want you." I went still. Then I said, "Yes."

"I'm sorry, but this flight is overbooked. We're going to compensate you twenty dollars. Please deplane immediately." The head flight attendant had my suitcase in a death grip. Her tone wasn't a request—it was an order. I gave her a cold look, then turned my gaze to the man beside us, who had just been escorted onto the plane, draped in designer labels. "Why does he get to board after showing up late, while I—who paid full price—am being forced off?" She let out a mocking laugh and lowered her voice to taunt me. "Because he's the son of a top-tier medical conglomerate in Scallow City. He's rushing there to beg an elusive miracle doctor—the famous Phantom Surgeon—to save his life. "No matter how urgent your business is, can it really compare to a human life? If you delay Mr. Stafford, ten lives couldn't pay for it. Now get off." Several security guards dragged me off the plane by force as I watched the cabin doors close. I laughed in sheer disbelief. The "Mr. Stafford" she was talking about was William Stafford, and he was terminally ill. What she didn't know was that I was the very "Phantom Surgeon" his entire family had been on their knees begging for three months—pleading with me to fly to Scallow City and perform his surgery today. Since they threw me off the plane, I won't be doing that operation. As for William, he can go ahead and wait for death.

I have transmigrated into this toxic romance novel for three years. The system tells me that as long as Kendrick Miller's affection level for me reaches 100%, I can finally go home. For the sake of returning home, I spend three years acting like a hopeless simp. One day, the system suddenly tells me to catch him cheating, claiming it is just a little game couples play to strengthen their relationship. It says, "Layla, Kendrick deliberately let you discover him at the hotel with his first love because he's trying to make you jealous! Men love seeing women fight over them! "Quick! Rush in and join them. Become part of their little game and his affection will definitely skyrocket! "Trust me, this is exactly what he's waiting for. He wants to see that you care!" Listening to the system's passionate encouragement, I gather my courage and shove open the hotel room door. But instead of gaining Kendrick's affection, I am met with his cold, disgusted gaze and a stack of cash thrown directly at me. He sneers, "Are you trying to get my attention with this stunt again? Take the money and get lost. Stop bothering me." To my humiliation, the security drags me out of the hotel unceremoniously. I am left crouched over in the rain, shivering from the cold. I wipe away my tears and exclaim, "I'm such an idiot! I let that stupid system trick me again!"