Romans & histoires Lazy Confessions

Lola’s POV – Shaking Foundations She couldn’t sit still. Not in class. Not in the library. Not even when Liv tried to drag her into gossip about who was hooking up with who in the dorm. Her head was a storm. That single word Confidential kept flashing in her mind like a warning sign. She’d fought so hard to start fresh here, to keep that part of her locked away where no one could touch it. And now, it was in someone else’s hands. Who had the guts to dig this deep?

She looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept in days. “Jason is dying, Mark has abandoned me, and now the mistress is finally paying her dues.” She looked at me with hollow eyes. “Happy now, Anna?” I sighed and pulled out the report a coworker had handed me earlier. Emily stared at it in disbelief. “He’s been lying to me all along. How could he lie to me?” Her knees buckled, and she slumped to the ground, defeated. Finally, the sobs came, shaking her entire body. What I’d handed her was a compatibility report for Mark and Jason.

Godrick replies, taking his black tie out of his pocket, quickly tying it into a Windsor knot around his neck. "I may be becoming an Alpha tonight, but I will also be making you my Beta immediately after. So be prepared to have watchful eyes over you too." I tell my best friend, watching him reach into his other pocket and pull out a small silver flask. He shrugs his shoulders, not caring how others perceive him, "I'm an open book, Milo; the entire pack already knows who I am and what my stance is on life. I have nothing to hide. The pack can either like me for me or dislike me. Either way, it won't change my plans for the future." Godrick replied.

“Is there something you need to confess?” I swallowed hard. Yes. Everything. “I’ve been having thoughts,” I said softly. “Bad ones.” “Describe them.” “I—I don’t know if I should…” He leaned forward. “I can’t help you if you hide.” I looked down at my lap, biting my lower lip. Then I whispered, “They’re about you.” Silence. It hung between us like incense smoke—thick, unspoken, sacred. His jaw clenched, his fingers flexing just slightly.

I did anyway. Unknown number. No photo. No link. Just a sentence that made my skin go cold. You can’t seal a confession. My breath stopped. Then another message arrived—this one a file transfer notification from a platform I didn’t recognize, as if someone had dropped a package on the internet and addressed it to me. File available: “CONFESSION.mp4” The room blurred at the edges. I didn’t open it. I didn’t touch it. I held the phone out to counsel like it was venom.

I knew that about myself. But despite all those ugly truths, despite every flaw and weakness I carried around like baggage, there was one thing I could say without hesitation. For the last fourteen months—maybe closer to sixteen if I’m being brutally honest—I had locked that part of myself away. I had stayed faithful to Lauren. No side pieces. No wandering eyes in the bar when some woman in a tight dress leaned over the counter a little too far. No late-night texts, no stolen glances that lingered. Not perfect. Not noble. But faithful.

The confessional waited at the side, wood dark and creaking, like it knew what he was about to do. Rum slipped inside. He heard the other side click open a moment later—quiet, hesitant. "Ru—" "I need to confess," Rum cut in, eyes fluttering shut, head leaning back against the wooden panel. “I needed to talk to someone. About my... urges.” A pause. “Go on.” Rum bit his lip. “I’ve been having thoughts. Bad ones. Wanting to do things. Needing things done to me.” Elijah didn’t speak. But Rum could hear his breathing. Measured. Controlled.

I ask him and he seems to stutter a moment, thinking of what lie he is going to spin. “My other investors are silent. They trust me to run things. Besides, everyone knows you give the pretty girls drinks to get the big spenders into a club.” “I didn’t know that.” I sip my drink through the itty bitty straw and slide a little bit away from him. He slides closer and his smell wafts over with the movement. An evil combination of cologne, marijuana, and desperation. I stuck the lime wedge in my mouth and sucked to fight the wave of nausea.

Louis suddenly called out, stopping me. He held out his hand to me, his tone condescending. "Hand over all the client files you have, as well as that multi-billion-dollar project you're currently working on. "These are company secrets. If you take them with you, it's illegal." I replied coldly, "All the files are on my computer. As for that collaborative project..." I looked down at the shredded documents on the floor and pointed at Flora. "She just tore it all to pieces." Hearing this, Flora immediately averted her eyes and leaned coyly into Louis's embrace, pouting.

The conference room was cold, but the chill that permeated me had nothing to do with the temperature. After Lucas stumbled out, leaving his confession hanging in the air like a toxic cloud, I stayed rooted to the spot, unable to move. Marcus remained, silently collecting the tablets and data logs, his presence a grim reminder of the objective truth. “He confessed,” I finally stated, the words dry and hollow. “My best friend. He was blackmailed into facilitating a lie that was created by my own cousin.”