Intrigue Live Stream Novels & Stories

he said. “The world is watching.” The screens flickered. Live view count: 47,312 and rising. Dark-web bids: $10K per minute of raw feed. Title: “THE JOURNALIST’S FALL – LIVE FROM CRYPT 7” I struggled—rope biting, skin burning, and pleasure and panic twisting into one. Luca leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “You wanted the truth,” he whispered. “Now you are the truth.” The candles guttered. The cameras rolled.

Someone even started a live broadcast, and the number of viewers kept increasing. Coincidentally, Chiara was chatting with Lyla in the room at the moment. She was surfing social media. When she saw the title of the live broadcast, she was a little puzzled. “Is Ivanka having an interview?”

“Livestreaming?” Harvey asked. “Hmph. Country bumpkin.” Hazel pouted and grabbed Harvey’s phone from his hand, downloaded an application called Durin, and then searched for a channel. “See this? This is livestreaming. Mordu’s Kaizen Group is the one that set up this platform. The app is called Durin. Here’s my channel, you can have a look.” Hazel then returned to her room to continue livestreaming.

I dropped the mic on the desk and leaned back, staring at the ceiling, teeth clenched. And then… the screen flickered. A notification popped up on the monitor. LIVE STREAM DETECTED — MarX Group Underground Channel. My blood ran cold. Bella’s face appeared on the screen. Bound. Bruised. Terrified. And MarX’s voice echoed, cold and clear: “Let’s give Ronin a little show.”

"Good. I checked this morning and couldn't find anything on it. But we have to be on the lookout, just incase anyone else decides they want to play games." He watched her through squinted brows and saw her nodding away. There was something else, Chase thought. He clenched his fists in his pockets. "Yes sir. I understand, but that's not the issue." She pulled out her iPad without any further words, and turned the screen to Chase's eyes. It was video, Chase noted. Nora clicked on the "play" icon, and Selene's dollface filled the screen immediately. It appeared to be a live recording of a Livestream session on I*******m. Only his ex-wife - was not her usual dolled up self.

She waited for a second, then someone picked up. "This is Irina Volkova," she said. "I want you to set up a livestream. It has to be exclusive. I want it on tomorrow evening during prime time. I don't just want the local news. I want it on every screen that the werewolf tribes watch. We have something to say. We are going to make sure every single werewolf hears our declaration of war." She ended the call and looked at me. A slow smile spread across her face. It was a dangerous look.

Sarah couldn't get the mysterious hotel owner out of her head. She had spent the rest of her shift replaying the encounter in her mind, trying to make sense of the strange emotions he had stirred within her. As she walked home, her thoughts were still consumed with him. She wondered what he was doing at that very moment, whether he was thinking about her too. It was silly, she knew, but she couldn't help it. She was intrigued. When she got home, Sarah flopped down on her couch and pulled out her phone. She couldn't resist the urge to look up the hotel owner online. She found a few articles about him, describing him as a successful entrepreneur who had built his fortune from the ground up.

Esther changed into a dress on the cruise ship and applied careful and stunning makeup. "Esther, look at how much attention you're getting on social media. Start a live stream directly later." Esther understood Jasper's intention immediately. She hesitated momentarily and asked, "Will Bradley be able to trace my location through the IP address if I start a live stream?" "He will!" Jasper said firmly. "That's why your live stream must last precisely three to five minutes. Once Bradley realizes it, you won't be able to die." "Understood."

Clips of the livestream were spread everywhere, accompanied by sensational but not exactly accurate commentary to guide viewers into coming up with conspiracy theories. The curiosity in the comment section quickly evolved into a breeding ground for speculation. One comment stood out. "Here's the rundown: first, Lorraine and the Thesis Lady were both in a relationship with the same man. Then, Thesis Lady was accused of stealing Iridium-192 from her workplace, a substance that can kill. Lorraine then fainted during a livestream. "So, logic says that Thesis Lady used Iridium-192 to murder Lorraine remotely."

“I know the baby is mine and I’ve told you I accept that. We have eight months to work it out.” My phone starts vibrating again. It can’t be nothing. It’s almost midnight. I pull it out this time. Lena. I read the message notification that flashes across. Answer now! I answer. “What?” “Babe, this is streaming live somehow. Shut it down,” Lena says. “It already has a million views.” I go cold. “What?” “It’s online. Shut it down now,” Lena repeats. I move closer to Calder and say it low. “It’s on the internet. Live streaming.”