Man Mehram Novels & Stories

A thrilling, sweet, forced-romance arc is about to begin! I stared at the comments as a chill crept down my spine. I clenched my jaw so hard that my teeth rattled. I replayed everything in my head and finally realized what felt off. His face was caked in such heavy makeup that I couldn't see what he really looked like. He'd casually said he worked as a livestreamer, yet there wasn't a single piece of streaming equipment in the apartment. Regret hit me hard. I'd been far too careless.

Ethan’s expression froze, and he stared at me in disbelief. As I did not understand his reaction, I turned to face Hudson instead. He used to be the manor’s resident physician, so he should be able to make the call on a matter like this. “I was very good today. I even ate the steak you cut for me. This time, I’d like some… painkillers. Is that okay?” Hudson’s face turned as white as paper, but he still did not answer me.

“Look, you’re mad. Punch me.” “I think getting physical doesn’t suit my temper,” I said. “You’re petty. This is low.” “You haven’t seen her being petty yet,” another voice broke into our conversation. The owner of the voice walked down the stairs, black almond-shaped eyes looked down amused. He was half Korean, nicknamed Misha. His birth name was Gun Min He. He was the oldest member of KJM, having quit the FBI four years ago to work with us. With a lean, muscular figure and a height of about 5’8”, he had a presence that commanded attention.

in unison. The rule in this house—no nonsense, perfect behavior at work. I met him as a refugee in a camp far from here. This place had become like my homeland. It felt like home. My name is Meenah Amirah Ahmedabad—I'm Saudi Arabian, not Qatari. I have no idea exactly where in Abu Dhabi I'm from, but Rafael and Wire said that's where. I lost my parents to sickness and hunger, then wandered the streets as a deaf, hungry, sickly peasant.

If I could I would have smiled but my body was tense, including my face. "He said thanks," Mei offered, nodding at me. "He can at least talk telepathically, you see," she continued. Nelly's pov I was outside, sitting down on a bench whilst absorbing the great sensation of the sun hitting my skin, smoking one of my favourite thin cigars with the spellbook on my lap. Whilst turning the pages I started to read aloud like there was a large audience waiting for a story. "Durakan demon, known for thriving through fear and pain. Reimbursing spell, demilatorum spell, silvulum protection spell. Ahh. So many options."

Where was the big guy when they needed him? To his surprise, the grim reaper put a reassuring hand on the teenage spirit’s arm. In all his years as a clairvoyant, he had never heard the grim reaper speak. But at this very moment, the grim reaper opened his mouth and spoke. His voice was not of this world, it was ethereal, delicate and light and it reminded Hans of overflowing milk and honey. “HaShem did not bring you this far to abandon you. HE will not forsake you.”

"Jamie boy and taking risks. It won't be long till she finds out you're not genuine." "Not if I pretend to be someone else," I defended. Marco laughed again. "I'll bet a thousand dollars in team heattie boy." "Team what?" I looked at him in astonishment and disgust. "Team heattie boy. Or should I say, JEATHER," he burst out laughing... again. "HEAME," Enzo chuckled. "You two fuck off." I stiffened up. These two were just the worse kind of people when it came to jokes. They were bad and terrible.

I had best clean this up before finally packing my bags. Hi, I'm sure you must be wondering who I am. Well my name is Vera Freeman which is ironical since everywhere I've gone I've been found in chains, chains that I can't seem to break out from. You must have guessed right, those people aren't my real family. If they are, my dad wouldn't try to rape me or my mom would never send me out of the house. At least I think they wouldn't. The truth is, I don't remember them. I remember nothing from my past, no matter how hard I tried.

I pretended to be innocent . " Yep and he became more handsome, " Meerab giggled . " Astagfirullah Meerab , he is our non mahram " I scolded her . No I am not jealous but she always takes our deen very lightly and I get scared for her sometimes . " But he has an amazing personality " she spoke this time a little calmly . I smile . She is right , Humza is a kind of a person who makes the saddest person happiest in a blink . He has the sweetest and fun loving aura .