Mad About You Novels & Stories

****** "What's nonsense....... have you looked properly or you saying it by yourself....." Mr. Hassan barked at the maid standing in front of him. The maid started shivering at his barking. She said to him something big on which Mr. Hassan getting furious is justified. "Yes sir, I properly checked, miss is not in her room...I searched the whole room, but I didn't find her anywhere....." Poor maid says with bowed head getting scared by Mr. Hassan's anger. It is the first time she finds her master getting that much angry. Because Mr. Hassan by nature is soft-hearted neither does he talks loudly with anyone. While Mrs. Yusra is the one who is good at doing this.

Drawing me in, and you kicking me out You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down What's going on in that beautiful mind? I'm on your magical mystery ride And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright My head's underwater But I'm breathing fine You're crazy and I'm out of my mind 'Cause all of me Loves all of you Love your curves and all your edges All your perfect imperfections Give your all to me I'll give my all to you

His face was a mixture of pain and sadness. Brandon disregard him and ascended from his chair. " Then, you can forget me as your friend. " Jake was surprise of his reaction. " You're mad! What's gotten into that pretty little head of yours that you had to say that? We are one buddy. You are my bestfriend. I can beleive this is happening! " Brandon balled his palm and said. " I said mind your own business ! I don't want you minding my life. " He's not ready to back down. No one's ordering him what to do.

*How the fuck will you kill a man who’s immortal and has lived for 800 years old* A crazy side of my heart questioned. “Whateverrrrrrrr”

Tom leans down to grab one of my arms and pull me up to my feet, “this household isn’t a democracy. What I say is final. Do you understand?” With that he attempts to pull me towards Dr. Hogan. I react without thinking. I turn to find something—anything—a picture of me and Tom on our honeymoon. I grab it quickly and smash it against Tom’s head. “Ow.” He releases me to grab his head. He looks back at me with a look of livid shock but I don’t linger in his stare. Luckily, everyone is equally shocked by this so no one moves to stop me as I run past them, out of the room, and out of the apartment.

"I don't want to eat anything. I just feel sorry for what's happening with April. If not for me, she wouldn't be locked up now." Jack's voice rang with clear adoration. "You're way too kind. She made a mistake, so she needs to be punished." "Still..." "Enough. Stop defending her. She bullies you because you're too good to defend yourself." … When I heard that, the numbing ice in my bones sank into every muscle in my body. Each word hit harder than the cold. My body no longer obeyed my thoughts. I could not even twitch my fingers. Every breath I exhaled caused puffs of condensation to hover before my eyes. Over time, it grew harder to even breathe.

Using her fingerprint, he unlocked the phone and quickly opened her messaging app. The latest chat records came into view with a tap. Mackie: "Hey, babe. Those three idiots have already locked that bitch in the greenhouse." Katie: "You're amazing! They never suspected you?" Mackie: "Suspect me? Ha, those three fools only feel sorry for me. A few tears, and they'd hand me their hearts. Bianca is powerless against me." Katie: "What about your graduation thesis?"

The faint scent of jasmine—my scent, the one he was most obsessed with—still lingered on it. "Ahhhhh—!" A heart-wrenching scream pierced the rainy Brooklyn night. Julian fell to his knees in the empty room, tears of regret mixing with the rain as he soaked the collar in his hands. After a long time, he slowly raised his head. The despair in his eyes was gradually replaced by a terrifying, almost pathological madness. He took out his phone and dialed a number, his voice hoarse but chillingly grim. "Lock down all airports, docks, and train stations in New York."

Everything was well documented. The video concluded with a chilling threat colored in red, “You have seven hours and fifty-nine minutes left.” She was so frightened that she accidentally knocked over a mug. The spilled contents made a mess out of the bed, but she was frozen with shock to care. As the first rays of morning light streamed through the curtains and into the bedroom, Anise was completely aghast by what she was seeing online. The tips of her fingers were trembling.

"America is treating you well, eh?" I catch my mother's eye across the table, and my stomach drops. She's watching me with that look – the one that says she's disappointed but not surprised. Mom has never approved of my life choices, and she makes sure I know it every time we're in the same room. "America is the same," I say, trying to keep my voice light. "But when are you going to bring us a husband?" Auntie Chiamaka jumps in, her voice carrying that sing-song tone Nigerian aunties use when they're about to give unsolicited life advice. "There's no more time, my dear. Your biological clock is ticking."