Let This Grieving Soul Retire Novel Novels & Stories

The soul’s laughter sounded truly repulsive to Xiao Chen, and the soul had already begun to take control of Xiao Chen’s body by reading his memories stored within the spiritual sea—the place where all of Xiao Chen’s memories, from both his first life and his current one, resided. “What is this? Where is this? No, this isn’t the world I know!” it said as it witnessed Xiao Chen’s memories of friendship—memories that felt so heartbreaking and so fragile. It even saw with its own eyes how Xiao Chen had died a tragic death in his first life.

Dante’s POV Gia was already waiting in the car. As I moved to enter, Luta caught my hand again, his eyes searching mine. “Please,” his tone was fatherly. “I know they’ve hurt you and they’ve stolen too much from you. But don’t lose your soul.” My face hardened as I pulled my hand away, avoiding his gaze. “Goodbye, Luta.” I slid into the car and Bruno slammed the door shut. At the back, I sat staring into the night. Luta’s words echoed in my mind as we drove, but I forced them away. My soul was buried the night they murdered my wife and left my child without a mother. That was the night it died.

Chapter 105 The weight of grief bore down on Noah, his heart shattered by the loss of Myla, his beloved mate. The echoes of pain reverberated through his very soul, leaving him in a state of despair and emptiness that he thought he might never escape. Yet, amidst the shadows of hopelessness, a flicker of desperate determination glimmered in the eyes of Hailey.

Life had never been kind enough to offer the grieving a pause. One week after the soil above Nonna Sveta’s grave had packed and hardened, the Salvatore mansion reclaimed its heartbeat. Since before dawn, the corridors hummed with the measured rhythm of staff who had learned never to waste a step. The dense aroma of espresso crept upward through curling steam, brushing against the smell of gun oil as guards exchanged posts on schedule. The world moved forward to a tempo no one could renegotiate—as if grief were a license with a strict expiration date, and today, the clock had run out.

It was footage of Chelsea’s ordeal. I picked up the remote and switched to a children’s channel. The rotten flesh from the past had been removed. The wound had scabbed over and grown new flesh. The warm sunlight outside the window fell gently on the cradle. I closed my eyes. Not a trace of gloom remained in my life.

But then again if I knew each and everyone I’m sure my heart would break even more. I pick up Aref, cradling her in my hand. The wolf is sad, much as you would expect when they find theirselves back in my pool. “I’m sorry Aref, so very sorry for your early retirement. But not to worry, I’ll find you another soul, and soon. I promise.” The little soul curls in my palm, it’s sorrow clear to see and I remain cradling it. Trying to give reassurance. Only when it seems to be sleeping, laying still and unmoving do I lay it to rest.

I write the words quickly, the ink bleeding into the paper like a bruise. I gave you my soul; thank you for giving it back. You will look for me in every person you meet, but you will never find me again. I leave the note on top of the papers. I leave the pregnancy results facedown beside it. Let him find it when I’m gone. Let the realization rot him from the inside out when he realizes he traded a son for a ghost from his past. I walk out the front doors. The rain is a deluge, a freezing curtain of water that soaks through my thin sweater in seconds. The Blackwood estate is a fortress of pine trees and shadows. I trek toward the border, the mud sucking at my boots, trying to pull me back in

Thirteen Months Ago-JANUARY 11th, 2025 The cemetery in Daisy Field was a graveyard of repressed desires, shielded by a sea of black umbrellas and the heavy Florida humidity. Bethany Evers stood at the grave's edge, her hips swaying with a grace that suggested she was mourning a lover rather than a priest. She daintily dabbed at her eyes as Sister Patrice wailed a hymn, but her focus was elsewhere. She adjusted her push-up bra, hoisting her generous breasts upward the moment she caught her ex-boyfriend Rupert looking. She wanted everyone to know that while the holy Father was dead, the town harlot was very much alive.

The luxurious, pristine white manor was now shrouded in thick smoke as it was engulfed by flames. I threw away the key, tore off the necklace around my neck, and threw it into the fire. Then, listening to the roaring flames behind me, I left the villa where I had grown up. I thought, 'Atlas, let's never meet again.'

Until I open my eyes and dump once again this feeling. Fine Missamy! Enough! My clothes are getting wet already because of your tears! If you are just looking for the warmth of my body, just say so… What? What did you just say Jeff? Warmth of your body? Are you now insane Jeff? @DEATH WISH Thank you for supporting my Novel! You may also read my complete Novel, (hmmm... while waiting for an update) Title: TAMING THE DANGEROUS CEO THE DEVILISH BILLIONAIRE