Fnaf Security Breach Pizzaplex Novels & Stories

Since I've spent a few minutes using the toilet during work hours, I only receive 3500 dollars despite my salary being 20 thousand dollars. I confront my boss, Vivian Dune, immediately. Although she seems fair and just on the outside, she adopts a passive-aggressive attitude with me. "The security footage from last month shows that you've used the toilet for 40 minutes altogether. Don't tell me you're working there, right? "It'll be 500 dollars for every minute you spend in the toilet. That's the new rule of the company. Since you're a veteran employee, you should be the one taking the lead. Honestly, I already went easy on you." I'm a veteran employee who has been working at this company for ten years. Each business deal that I've closed brings the company at least 100 million dollars worth of revenue. But now, I get robbed of my most basic right as a human. Seeing my lack of response, Vivian flashes me a venomous smile. "If you really don't want to work here, you might as well leave. Do you seriously think we need you? Don't forget that your five-year contract isn't up yet. Who in this industry will want to hire you next?" I don't argue with her any further. But when my contract, which only has five days left, comes to an end, she's the one panicking instead.

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

Stanley Porter, my wife Jessica Evans’ close male friend, and I are both competing to be the next fire captain. In my first lifetime, I was chosen by a unanimous vote. On my very first night on duty as captain, Jessica came over to the fire station to celebrate with me. Sticking to my duties as captain, I didn't touch a single drop of alcohol. Yet, after drinking the chicken soup Jessica gave me, I fell into a deep sleep. That night, a massive fire broke out in the old district, resulting in the deaths of 58 people. Because I missed the station's alarm, I was accused of dereliction of duty and labeled as the main person responsible for the tragedy. The enraged families of the victims ended up beating me to death. In my second lifetime, I withdrew my name from the selection for captain. I handed the badge over to Stanley instead, saying, "You're better suited to be captain than I am." I'd assumed that this was enough to ensure that the fire couldn't be pinned on me. Yet, when the authorities looked into the fire, they ended up seeing me appear in the security footage from where the fire began. Everyone assumed I'd deliberately started the fire to get back at Stanley out of jealousy for losing out on the captain position. I now open my eyes again to live my third life. I watch as Stanley excitedly gives his speech on the podium after being made the captain. This time around, I submit a request for annual leave and take a cab straight to the airport.

A year after Easton Carter turns down my 99th proposal, he calls me in the middle of the night, crying like his world's falling apart. He says his grandmother is dying and her last wish is to see him married. He tells me he's finally ready. He's already ordered the dress and booked the venue. But when I show up at the venue in my wedding dress, his friends burst out laughing. "You actually believed that? And you even swapped the cheap dress he ordered for a custom-made one? You're the queen of pathetic!" Then one of them yells, "Look, the groom's side piece showed up to crash the wedding!" "Security, come get this homewrecker!" Guests turn to stare like they're watching a joke unfold. Easton doesn't even look at me. He turns to the woman he loves and says, "I told you I'd ruin this wedding for you. I meant it. If you can't have him, no one will!" She gives him a satisfactory smile. Then, he finally glances at me. "Tina said you did her a favor today. When we get married, you can be the bridesmaid, and you can still spend time with us after that." So, he brought me here just to help his sweetheart ruin her crush's wedding. But when Easton finally looks up at the wedding banner and realizes that I'm the bride, his eyes flare with rage.

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.

Victoria Bathram has been fighting kidney failure for five long years. Through endless hospital visits, painful treatments, and nights filled with fear, she survives on one thing alone—the love of her husband, Gabriel. He is attentive, gentle, and seemingly devoted, standing by her side as she waits for the transplant that could save her life. When a matching kidney is finally found, Victoria believes her suffering is about to end. Instead, it is just beginning. By accident, Victoria overhears a conversation she was never meant to hear. Gabriel has made a choice—one that does not include her. The kidney meant to save her will be given to another patient: a young girl named Sandra. A child he calls his daughter. A child from the secret family he has been hiding all along. As Victoria’s health rapidly declines, the truth unravels. Gabriel has not only betrayed her trust but has been living a second life inside her parents’ villas—homes he kept her away from under the excuse of protecting her fragile heart. Through hidden security footage, Victoria watches her husband give his affection, loyalty, and gifts to another woman and her children, using the life she thought was hers. With only months left to live and everything she believed in stripped away, Victoria faces a devastating choice of her own: remain a silent victim of love and betrayal, or reclaim what little time she has left on her own terms.

My husband, Don Damiano Caruso's adopted sister, Caterina Caruso, has gone missing when she's three months pregnant. The security footage shows that I'm the last person she's met before her disappearance. The family elders request me to provide them with clues of Caterina's whereabouts. Damiano's mother, Teresa Bellandi, even gets down on her knees to plead with me to help find the missing Caterina. Still, my only answer is silence. I initially thought that Damiano would get a divorce from me out of disappointment. But he still continues to love and dote on me, as though nothing has happened. When I first get pregnant, the R&D team that Damiano has invested an astronomical amount of money into has finally invented a device that can extract memories from human brains. Damiano lures me to the council hall of the Caruso family. There, he extracts my memories in front of the entire family. I keep begging him to change his mind by explaining that this device will hurt our unborn child. But Damiano merely replies icily, "Bianca, the medical team has already conducted a check-up on you. You're in top health this whole time. I can't believe you're capable of lying about your pregnancy just to hide the truth! "I will uncover the truth no matter what!" But once everyone digs up the truth from my memories, Damiano and the entire Caruso family go insane.

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.