Goodbye By Who Is Fancy Novels & Stories

Lawrence Schwartz, CEO of Schwartz Corporation, resigned in disgrace as the company announced bankruptcy restructuring. I turned off the news and switched to a popular comedy show. With laughter filling the room, the three of us raised our glasses together. "To a bright future! And to better days ahead!"

I opened the messaging app and typed: [Don’t bother coming. I’m already home.] I hit send. The screen went dark. The house fell completely silent. I leaned back on my couch and closed my eyes. The small, stubborn hope I held onto finally faded.

Of course, this was all Marcus's doing, with a little help from me. I used the shares of Hall Corp that I held to help Marcus bring the company down, just as Carter had taken down the Thomson family years ago. Late at night, when the world was quiet, the powerful Mr. Dale transformed into a completely different person, like a puppy wagging its tail, asking for a reward. I sighed and shook my right hand, showing off the ring. The enormous diamond sparkled brightly under the light.

But five years later, I took Carl and left him. Jeremy stared at the ceiling, memories flashing before his eyes. The moment he walked away with Carl in his arms, my face was ghostly pale as I crumpled on the floor, blood slowly pooling beneath my head. Suddenly, his eyelid twitched as the sharp ring of his phone jolted him back to reality. "Mr. Sterling, check the link I just sent you. An international dance company posted a silhouette of their new instructor. I don't know why, but it looks so much like—"

She said more softly, like a child who was loosing her favourite doll, not minding the eyes that were staring at her. Tommy walked over to her table and embraced her close to himself and gently pat her hair. "Please stay." Gabby beg softly almost in a whisper. "This is for the both of us Gabby." He refrains, put down the money for the payment of what they had orders. "Goodbye Gabby." He said and he walked away without looking back. Gabby watched him leave, still at where she stood, the lonely music in the background started playing again and this time she knew the music was just played for her.

"Valentine's Day is coming up, so I had these custom-made. Do you like them, Caleb?" There was a pair of exquisitely crafted rings inside the box. Although she said she wanted my opinion, she had posed her question to Caleb. It was obvious just what she meant by that. I was done. I found this entire farce boring. So, I rose to my feet, intending to leave. "I don't study design. I'm busy. I'll take my leave." Caleb immediately sprang to his feet, looking panicked.

Without thinking, I called out, "Carl, I feel awful." But the room was dead quiet. That was when it hit me—today was the day Carl and Wendy were supposed to hook up. Wendy had posted a bunch of updates on Instagram—probably to make sure I saw them. Carl's face was hidden in the pictures, but their hands were intertwined. The caption read, "I finally found my destiny." Destiny? I sneered and commented, "Destined to be a homewrecker?" Not long after, I saw she had deleted my comment.

Damien murmured, the truth slipping out before he could stop it. ‎Leaving the shop under a bloody sunset, Damien felt unraveled. If she loved him that deeply, why had she cut all ties overnight and thrown herself into the arms of another man? ‎His phone buzzed violently. It was his best friend, Richard Heit. "Let's go out tonight, Damien! My brand-new ultra-luxury nightclub, ICE, is having its grand opening. Come drown your sorrows." ‎Damien stared at the darkening streets. "I'll see you tonight."

“You deserve it.” He chuckled. “If you keep talking like that, I’ll kidnap you and never let you go.” She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re not serious.” Martins leaned closer, his eyes twinkling. “Try me.” Amara pressed her lips against his briefly. “Bye, darling. I need to go get ready for work.” He exhaled deeply, watching her open the door and step out. “Alright, love,” he said, smiling. “Go conquer the world. I’ll see you soon.”

Wasn't he afraid that it would haunt him? 'If you don't come home, then don't bother coming back at all.' He sent another message. 'If you don't reply, we're getting a divorce.' After sending all these messages without a response, Henry grew more frustrated. Suddenly, a reply came. It read, 'Let's get divorced. I have left with someone else. Don't bother looking for me.' Of course, I didn't send that message. Sophie had secretly taken my phone, making sure Henry would fall for her game.