Me My Mine Novels & Stories

"Hey, Mom! The AI is glitching again! The 'Meilin' unit is trying to leave the sandbox!" Meilin and Leo froze. The "Source-Node" wasn't a machine. It was a Save-File.

All at once. "My best friend gave it to me." Quiet. Real. "Back when I was in the orphanage. So he could find me later." Damien went still. Not the careful, measured stillness from before. Something harder. Something that happened to him rather than something he chose. His eyes shifted red. "Him." One word. The temperature in the room dropped three degrees. "He gave you that." Not a question. His jaw worked once. "And you've been wearing it." His eyes cut to hers. "You don't wear what another man gives you. You're mine. What's on your body is mine. What touches your skin is mine."

It was just mere Busan, but it still made her so happy that her joy was radiating off her in waves. That's the thing about Mia. I didn't need to buy her castles to make her happy, all I needed was to love her and that's it. Infact, I don't doubt for a second that she would have loved me just as much if I wasn't worth millions and lived in some deadbeat room somewhere. To her, I wasn't the Kim Jeon of Kim cosmetics. The company worth billions of dollars but rather just the man she loved. It was as simple as that.

Metal. I crawled toward it, my breath hitching. Under a loose board in my father’s old study sat a fireproof box. It was sleek, modern, and completely out of place in this ruin. I wiped my eyes and touched the keypad. My birthday. 09-14. Click.

Mini-me was unwavering. "And that's it, folks, she's not telling. Henry, if you dream of playing golf today, I'll give you five seconds to get out of my sight, and you, kitty, go after your Perfect friend and ask him for information. Mini-me is right, you tried to play smart, you won't hear anything from us. Now circling around!" I clapped my hands together and kicked them both out of my office. Only after I saw them get in the elevator did I return to my desk.

You know well that this word is not in my vocabulary. I hear the beep of the sliding door, a sign that Taylor has arrived. I continue my game with my new toy. I shoot both of his legs one by one because I don't want to kill him, not yet. I have time to have fun with him, so why rush? -Miss, what are you doing here?

There was a small smile already forming. Mei’s lips curved slightly. “Mavé Edition,” she said. “That’s what it’s called.” Clara let out a short breath, shaking her head faintly. “That’s big,” she said. “That’s really big.” Her eyes dropped back to the bag again, studying it more carefully now. “Can I see it again?” she asked, almost immediately after. Mei lifted it slightly higher and turned it again. Clara leaned forward more this time, her gaze narrowing in focus.

Without thinking, I move in its direction. Because I need answers. Answers Roman refuses to give me. The top of the desk is, like everything else in the apartment, free of debris except for a computer resting on it. Even in the shadowy darkness of the room, I can tell it's an older model. It isn't as sleek as the ones that are now being sold in stores. Are the drawers inside the desk as barren as everything else? I suck my lower lip into my mouth and bite down. There's no doubt that I would be livid if someone invaded my privacy by going through my belongings. That alone should be enough to make me back away and retreat to the bedroom.

She stands there completely stumped, like a frozen tree. The shop boutique assistant keeps her polite smile, but her tone is super firm as her jaw prompts, "Miss Mirelle?" Mirelle is so anxious that her body can feel wet sweat trickling down her back fur. One hundred and forty-four thousand resource tokens—that is just tiny chump change for my Blackwynd Moon Dominion card, maybe, but for Mirelle’s small camp, it is a staggering mountain of money. There is absolutely zero way her paws can pay the register.

On my birthday, my acceptance letter from Mar University finally arrived. Mom even did something completely out of character: she ordered my favorite strawberry cake. For a moment, I thought my parents had finally remembered that today wasn’t just the day for my brother’s medical checkup—it was my birthday, too. However, right after I blew out the candles, Mom pulled out my brother’s acceptance letter from a local community college. “Mason, your brother didn’t do well in his SATs, so he’ll only be able to get into a community college,” she said. “His health is poor, and he can’t handle the stress of retaking the SATs.” Dad cleared his throat, assuming his usual stance as the head of t