J Sterling The Perfect Game Novels & Stories

“Well, seeing is believing. How about you give it a try and then see if there's a need to revaluate your conclusion. “He says, and I think over his words. Well, I'm in need of help. What's the harm in trying? He seems pretty confident. And if I go through with this, there are only two ways it can end. Either it works, or I get proven right, and it doesn't work. “Fine. “I reply, and he walks out from behind the desk and I get the full view of him for the very first time. He's bent over and is using a walking stick. He rests against the desk and stares sternly at me. Even under the red light, I can feel his strong gaze piercing through me. As if reading me like an open book and absorbing my de

I move, my heart pounding; I want to grab my phone, but it’s still too far away from me. He seems to sense what I am planning because his next attack comes from the opposite direction, effectively blocking me. I move back, and more chairs scatter. The table rattles as we play this strange game of hiding and seeking to send the set utensil flying everywhere. My phone beeps, and he stops, his eyes wild. He yanks it from the charger and looks at it. He screams and throws the phone at me and lunges at me again. I panic, and in my scramble, I fall and try to drag myself away from him. I don’t even notice the shard of glass digging into my bare legs. It was a huge mistake to be wearing my lounging

"This game is a game of chess, where pawns are sacrificed, and knights are betrayed. It's a game of strategic revenge, where the queen is the ultimate prize." He paused, his eyes glinting with a fierce determination. "In this game, you'll either rise to power and become my queen, working together to take down our common enemy... or you'll be cast back into the darkness of your past, forced to relive the wounds you're desperately trying to heal." Ethan's hands dropped from the wall, releasing Elena from his grasp. He strode to the table, snatched a file, and gave it to her. "Signed and sealed, Elena Wellington. You'll play by your husband's rules. The game is on."

I am seriously regretting this game I started. There is nothing I can do tonight, so I slowly rise from the hard floor and dust myself off. I eat a light dinner and make a cup of hot tea. Next, I head upstairs to take a long bath. I begin filling the clawtooth tub with warm water and add in some of my favorite rose bath oils before lighting candles around the room. This is my sanctuary and exactly what I need right now. I lean my head back and breathe in the rose and amber from the candles as Frank Sinatra’s smooth melodic voice fills the room. I was just about to drift off to sleep when suddenly I felt a shift in the atmosphere. Power, raw angry power was headed my way. I see no point in ge

" I'm Liliana Stones by the way." " well Lil would you follow me home?" He asked again. " Of course. But Mr stranger just so you know if you try anything I can bust up some moves. " She narrows her eyes at him. " Trust me you look more like a cat I'm helping, or at least a little sister " he said to her hurting her a little bit. " I'm not little I'm 27" she said. " Wow how'd you keep yourself so young?" He asked admiring her skin.

I turned him from a broke nobody into a Wall Street elite. Now I wondered. Was that all an act, too? “Please!” I knelt on the floor in front of Chloe. “She’s really going to die! Please give me back the medicine!” Chloe looked down at me on my knees, a sick pleasure in her eyes. “Staff, hold her down,” she commanded. “Stop this pathetic act.” Several employees rushed over. I fought with all my might, trying to get that life-saving bottle back. But they were too strong.

She stopped the call, her frustration boiling. Later that evening, Ava found herself in the corner booth of an expensive bar. Roman sat across from her, nursing a whiskey he barely touched. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” she added, leaning forward. Roman’s stare didn’t waver. “So are you.” “You think dragging me into this will somehow vindicate you?” He shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “You’re here, aren’t you?” “Not for you,” she shot back. “For the truth.”

POV: Silas Sterling Arthur Sterling didn’t look like a man who had spent fifteen years in the purgatory of an offshore exile. He looked like the personification of a high-yield bond: stable, polished, and utterly devoid of mercy. He stepped over the mangled remains of the vault door, his handmade oxfords clicking against the concrete floor with a rhythmic, chilling precision.

Together, they pushed the door open. The room was a battlefield. Sparks rained from shattered consoles. Screens flickered with lines of corrupted code. The central tower beam glowed an ominous red where explosives had been strapped. And standing at the far end, lit by the glow of the failing system, was Harrison Sterling. His smile was a knife. Cold. Certain. Deadly. “You’re too late,” he said. “Five minutes, and everything you’ve built everything you think you’ve become collapses.” Jackson stepped forward, no hesitation in his stride. “Not if I end you first.”

Noah teased. Sterling rolled his eyes, flipped him off for effect, and headed up to his own room to change. In his suite, Sterling changed into a crisp black dress shirt and charcoal slacks. As he fastened the buttons, he caught his reflection in the mirror. The diamond on his hand caught the light, a subtle flash like a silent promise. He hadn’t worn jewelry in years. Not since the injury. Not since he stopped being someone the league cared about. But this ring wasn’t about the league. It was about Noah. About the impossibility of what they'd found. And the quiet certainty that he’d kill to protect it.