Meilin X Miriam Novels & Stories

“I don’t start work until four o’clock.” “Good. I’ll take the rest of the day off, and we’ll just talk until you say everything you need to. Alright?” “OK.” She was still shaky and frightened, but at least she wasn’t alone. “See you soon.” **** Neil Gammon stared across the table at Mirrie, not at all liking what he saw. He’d been her AA sponsor for two years, and he’d seen her in a really bad way more than once… but nothing like this. Whatever this was, it was serious.

"I could." "But you haven't." "Not yet." I leaned forward. "What do you want, Mira?" She studied me for a long moment. "The truth. About the merger with Helix Dynamics. The offshore accounts. The whistleblower who disappeared last year. I want everything." "And if I give it to you?" "You won't." I smiled—slow, predatory. "Then what?" She leaned in too. Close enough I could smell her perfume—jasmine. "Then I want you again," she whispered. "No masks. No games. Just us. Until I get bored."

Maybe it was just a way for the memories to lead her to her destination. Mira watched the woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, sitting at the bus stop. She had red hair and piercing blue eyes reminded Mira of herself. Could this woman be Mirabelle Xavier? Mira never looked at Mirabelle’s picture before. But Cohen mentioned they both looked alike.

My name is Mirabelle, but my friends call me Mira for short, i'm barely seventeen and about to enter a new phase of my life, I just got admitted into the university of my dreams to study accounting which was not actually what I intended to study at first, but because that was where my mark in post utme landed me or I was not just so lucky....but I accepted to study it anyways because I was determined to leave the house, which I and my siblings called "cage house" funny right?

Selina pleaded "Selina, calm down. I'll not report you to anybody, you shouldn't be scared of me and feel free to air your views. And my name is not my lady's is Amira . I want you to be free to tell me anything, and I hope I could also tell you anything too and it'll be safe with you." Amira asked. "Yes my lady.. I'm sorry Ami .. Ami..ra" Selina said. "So tell me what you mean by your last words" Amira questioned

“Watch your mouth. You don’t get to say one word about Mia.” “What?” Xena lifted her chin smugly. “Did I hit a nerve? If you hadn’t been so desperate to marry Felix back then, you never would’ve had that...” “Enough.” Miranda slammed a hand against the desk as she shot to her feet. “Say one more thing about Mia, and I promise you won’t like what happens next.” Xena’s breathing caught. Her grip tightened around the strap of her bag, and some of the arrogance on her face faded.

She was a puzzle that couldn’t be solved with brute force or charm alone. Miriam finally walked in, her sharp heels clicking against the tile floor. Her eyes scanned the café before landing on me, her expression guarded as always. She wore her typical look of cool detachment, but I knew better. Beneath that icy exterior, she was desperate. She wanted Spencer, and that made her useful to me. “Miriam,” I greeted, standing up and gesturing for her to sit. She slid into the seat across from me, crossing her legs as if she wasn’t in a hurry. But I could feel the tension in the air. The desperation.

By the end of it, I felt even more certain. Grounded. Clear about my choice. “Well,” Miriam said finally, standing, “you both have my contact. Take your time deciding. It’s important you’re aligned.” I walked her to the door. “Thank you,” I said sincerely. She smiled warmly. “You already trust your body,” she said. “That’s half the work done.” When I turned back into the house, Flavian was still in the living room. Hands in his pockets. Thinking. “I like her,” I said.

The administration building smelled like paper, polish, and something faintly metallic—like new beginnings pretending to be ordinary. Mira stood in line clutching a thin brown file to her chest, fingers tight around the edges as if it might disappear if she loosened her grip. Her name was written neatly on the cover. Mirabel Roland. She had written it herself last night, slow and careful, rewriting it twice until the letters felt right. This is real, she told herself again. Behind her, voices murmured. Laughter rose and fell. Someone complained about an early lecture. Someone else argued about parking.

Riley and I walk toward Mira while admiring the ambiance of the restaurant. “I have been waiting for good 15 minutes. You are late Miss Michaels.” Mira teases as she sits back and cocks her eyebrow at me. Mira is a punctual person and she hates people who are late. half of our fights are over this issue only. Mira doers me a huge favour with helping me with all those classes I have to take to get prepared for whatever is coming for me when I take my new position besides Aaron but honestly she is really anal when it comes to punctuality. I remember how she once totally ditched a whole close when I got stuck in traffic and had been 17 minutes late. trying to lighten the situation, I laugh and