Heather The Ex-files Novels & Stories

DARIUS “I want a full investigation into Vivienne Fox. Her life after she left the pack. Every name she ever whispered. Every place she ever touched.” The words came out colder than I meant them, slicing through the stillness of my office like a blade. Across from me, Beta Garrick lounged in my leather chair like this was just another day. But his eyes sharpened.

Heather had gotten back to her feet but was still staggering to get her composure while I glared at her, and then at Draven. What manner of man was he? How dare he, after all Heather had done. How dare he still be intimate with her? Last time he’d promised to take care of her when she attacked me after the mating ceremony, was this what he’d meant? Heather knew of our secret and I was darn right sure that she was the one spreading the news to anyone that cared to listen. Why the hell was she alone in Draven’s office with her filthy hands on him while I was away?

the prosecutor says, “do you have more than what you sent?” “Yes.” “How much more?” “Enough.” “Does it implicate others?” “Yes.” “Board level?” “Yes.” A long breath on the other end. “Can you come in tonight?” I looked around my apartment. Small. Ordinary. Expendable. “Yes.” After I hang up, I pack a single bag. Laptop. External drive. Paper copies. I hesitate over one final file. The one dated three months before December. The one no one has touched. Because no one has looked that far back.

(Third-Person Perspective) The security staff exchanged glances before stammering, “We have no idea… She was here a moment ago…” “You have no idea? Seriously?” Dominick smirked in rage. Grimacing hard, he whipped out his gun and pressed the barrel hard against their heads. “You have one hour to bring her to me, or you’re dead.” Once the security staff scrambled away, Dominick slumped against the wall, his gaze falling on the divorce papers in his hands.

I canceled the meeting and rushed to the hospital. A man in his sixties stood by the ICU. He looked a lot like Shawn. "Hello, I'm Shawn's father. Sorry to trouble you. Shawn told me you don't know him, and that I shouldn't bother you. But he's secretly invested in your company and was always asking about you. While he was unconscious, he kept calling your name. I thought, before he dies, maybe he wants to see you." Luke Lubbard, Shawn's father, tried to convince me by setting a folder of documents on the table. He slid the papers across—they were proof that Shawn had invested in my company.

I responded, a sense of urgency creeping into my voice. "You're absolutely right. Hand me the USB drive. I'll rush it over to Alan. Meanwhile, you should go and locate Declan and Robin," Heather instructed, extending her hand towards me. Without a second thought, I placed the USB drive in her outstretched hand. Heather curled her fingers around the USB drive, a smirk playing on her lips. It was an expression I hadn't seen on her face before, "Heather, what's going on?" I asked her.

Heather grumbled before reluctantly saying, "Fine. I promise!" Cassidy finally smiled brightly. "Thank you, Heather." As Heather nodded and returned her attention to her phone, scrolling through it, Cassidy couldn't help but wear a satisfied smile. Although what she shared with Heather seemed harmless, she knew it wouldn't remain a secret. It would eventually turn into hearsay and then become a rumor that Hailey would never be able to shake off. *** Meanwhile, at the Rothschild Corporation... The conference hall was already filled with people. All the chairs were occupied, and the executive directors of the large corporation

" She grabbed my phone and opened my contacts list. The moment she saw that my pinned contacts were my parents and Dylan... She brought her high heel down hard onto the back of my hand.

The controlled order Naomi had always associated with emergency medicine was beginning to crack. A pair of police officers waited near the entrance to pathology as the stretcher rolled toward them. One officer accepted a tablet from a detective who had just arrived and scanned the information on the screen. "We've got an identification," he announced. His partner looked up. "Margaret Ellison. Sixty-four years old." He continued scrolling. "Retired atmospheric scientist." There was a brief pause before he read the final line. "Former employee of Aelion Industries." The name meant nothing to Naomi.