Let This Grieving Soul Retire Novel Novels & Stories

Little did he know that I had taken Ayden and left for foreign shores a decade ago, back to the stronghold of our family. Derick, lost and searching, was instead found by Jasmine. 10 years had turned Jasmine into a shell of her former self, robbed of her fertility and plagued by a severe mental disorder. Once she found Derick again, she would not let go. From lovers to sworn enemies, they lost everything and lived only to torment each other. Soon after, tragedy struck in Derick's home: a shooting that left both dead. Rumor had it that Jasmine, in a fit of madness, decided if she was going down, Derick was going too.

“And correct.” She leaned back, folding one leg over the other, an angle designed to communicate both patience and power. “There is no ‘return,’ because she never left anything worth returning to. She disappeared. People do that. She’s gone. Nico is grieving in that performative way he does when he wants donors to open their wallets. You’re trying to monetize a ghost.” I smiled. “You think I’d bring a ghost to your desk?” “You’ve brought worse.”

I opened my leather notebook, my pen hovering over the blank white page for a long, painful minute. I didn't write about Vance's threats or Tamara's dangerous invitation. I didn't write about the Apex project or the board's looming vote. Instead, my hand moved slowly, tracing a single, jagged line across the paper. I am grieving something that was never mine, I wrote, the ink bleeding into the fiber. I don't even know what I am losing. **To be Continued**

Quietly, methodically, she began packing. Clothes. Shoes. Books. Personal belongings. Everything that belonged to her. Everything she had once brought into this apartment believing it was their future. An hour passed. Then another. By the time she finished, the apartment felt empty. Stripped of every trace of her presence. Amelia zipped the final suitcase shut. Then she walked to the door. She didn’t look back. ⸻ The taxi drove through the quiet part of the city. Far away from the shining skyscrapers and bright lights.

I finished my food in silence and when I was done, I picked up the book, hoping to read a few more chapters before I will retire for the day. I did read a few chapters but I ended finishing the whole book one and when I was getting ready to read the book two, the light was entirely shut down and I couldn’t even see a fly in the door. The windows were already shut from the outside by someone I had no idea of and now the lights went out. I knew I had no choice than to retire for the night, hoping tomorrow will be a better day and also I will be happy or someone will come for me and find me. An impossible wish but maybe, saying it might make it come true and I will have a chance of leaving this

She looked at me with mixed feelings, her eyes quivering as she couldn't say a word to me. Sounds of cameras filtered in the air as much as gossip. “BREAKING NEWS: The Billionaire Heir who rejected and divorced his wife regrets his actions and desperately wants her back!” It was showcased on the sign board in less than a minute before my action. That was the power of reporters and social media.

"Yvie!" I frowned and shook him off, snapping coolly, "Please watch yourself, Mr. Grant. If you came to apologize for Susie Grant, then you don't have to—I'm not interested." My coldness stung him, but he smiled wryly. "No, I didn't come for her." Then, taking a deep breath as if to steel himself, he looked at me with his bloodshot eyes as he said, "I came to apologize about what I'd done in our past lives. I know you reincarnated too, Yvie."

I whispered, trailing off as I searched for the right word. Terrifying didn’t even cover it. The idea of souls wandering, unaware they were dead, searching for answers they would never find—it settled heavily in my chest. The story wasn’t just dark. It was tragic. Endless. Unfinished. I closed the laptop halfway, then stopped, hesitated, and opened it again. I stood up slowly, my injured leg protesting as I shifted my weight, and carried the laptop over to the couch. I sank down, leaning back against the cushions, pulling my legs up slightly as if that small movement could shield me from the weight of everything I had just read.

What did he pay you? His hand stopped. "I don't—" "To keep me under while they cut out my pup's marrow. To end my bloodline." I turned my head. He stepped back. "What was the weight of the gold?" His shoulders sagged. He thrust release papers at me. I marked them with unsteady fingers. "Stay through the waning moon," he murmured. "Your spirit is barely anchored." "I'd rather walk into blizzard than breathe here another hour." I gathered my blood-stained clothes and walked out. My legs shook, but rage kept me upright.

My heart sank. I gestured an apology to the manager and got up to leave. Before I even reached the first-floor reception area, I heard a shrill wailing that drew the attention of many employees. "Everyone, look! Look at this heartless man!" Sloane sat on the floor with her hair all disheveled, sobbing dramatically as tears and snot ran down her face. "My sister-in-law just died, and he's already running around with other women! He kicked our whole family out, including his sick mother-in-law! He stole our family's house and sold it for cash. He's trying to destroy us!"