Message In A Bottle Message

Shantali Mae Cross, a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Ancient Arts, encounters an impossible phenomenon during her night shift—smoke from the heating vents coalesces into the form of a cobra near ancient Egyptian canopic jars, showing her visions of possible futures. She sees herself accepting a promotion, arguing with a dark-haired man in a hospital, wearing a wedding dress, and standing at a graveside in autumn. Shaken by the experience, Shantali becomes obsessed with understanding what she witnessed, diving into research about serpent smoke divination practices. Her investigation reveals that others throughout history have experienced similar visions at crucial crossroads in their lives, but those who became consumed with interpreting and controlling their prophetic glimpses inevitably destroyed the very relationships and opportunities the visions had shown them. As Shantali spirals deeper into her research, she begins shutting out her boyfriend David, a fellow security guard who loves her deeply. When David witnesses the cobra phenomenon himself, he helps ground her in reality rather than obsession. Through her studies, particularly the warnings left by Dr. Amelia Thorne—a researcher who died alone after chasing similar mysteries—Shantali realizes the cobra's true message: choose love over fear, presence over obsession. The visions weren't warnings of tragedy but glimpses of a life fully lived with all its ordinary struggles and profound connections. When David proposes, Shantali chooses their real relationship over her pursuit of supernatural answers. She completes her research by writing a fictional novel about her experience, transforming obsession into art while helping future cobra witnesses understand that some mysteries are meant to guide rather than be solved. The story explores themes of choice versus destiny, the danger of sacrificing present love for future certainty, and the wisdom of embracing life's uncertainties alongside those who love us.

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

I am about to book a room at a hotel owned by Luca Conti, a consigliere under my command, when a sharp voice suddenly cuts in from behind me. "Aspetta. That's not your price." I turn around. A woman wearing a manager's badge stands there with her arms crossed, scrutinizing me as if I am an unsightly stain she can't wait to wipe away. "We don't allow prostitution here," she says coolly. "If you're receiving clients, there will be a fine." As she speaks, she hands me a penalty notice. The charges are clearly listed on the paper. "Illegal guest reception fee: 350 thousand dollars. "Special soundproofing fee: 150 thousand dollars. "Special cleaning fee: 100 thousand dollars. "Total fee: 600 thousand dollars." Receiving clients? I have simply come straight from a Mafia cocktail party without changing clothes—that's all. What exactly does she take me for?" I lift my gaze and answer evenly, "You're mistaken. I am not that kind of person. You can contact the hotel owner, Luca Conti, and ask him who I am." A sneer flickers through Sofia Rossi's eyes. She spits to the side, full of contempt. "Still claiming you are not a puttana? Women like you come here every week. Every single one of them swears she knows him. "Our boss is the consigliere to the Russo family, the most powerful Mafia family in Seneriffe. Do you really think he needs someone cheap like you? "I suggest you pay up now, subito, before your client loses patience and drags you into the street and rapes you." I do not waste another word on her. I take out my phone and send a message directly to my secretary, Marco Bianchi. "Notify Luca. Either this manager, Sofia Rossi, disappears from this city, or he does."

Queenie Livingston, my best friend whom I have cared for over the years, gives me a bottle of perfume. I immediately turn around and pour its contents down the toilet. In my previous life, that perfume made me sprout hair all over my body and reek. I was shunned by my colleagues, and my then-boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, wasted no time in dumping me and hooking up with Queenie. I desperately sought medical treatment back then, but with nowhere left to turn, I died in utter agony and despair. Only after my death did I learn that the grotesque condition was caused by the perfume Queenie had maliciously tampered with. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the exact day Queenie gave me the perfume.

When I was ten years old, both my parents passed away. My sister, Brianna, and I only had each other left. We were tormented at the orphanage before the Larsons adopted us. They doted on Brianna and me, and even allowed their daughter, Vivian Larson, to get engaged to me when I was 20 years old. It was a wonderful tale of love. Vivian didn't let any of us down. She would have given me the moon if she could, and she loved me with all her heart. During the ten years we spent with the Larsons, Brianna and I led a good life and never suffered at all. The night before we got married, Vivian took out a treasured bottle of vintage wine. It was to be served at our wedding. However, I poisoned the wine and killed everyone in the Larson family, including my own sister.

Eighteen-year-old Haru Ono has been in love with Aiden Davis since he was in middle school. Trying to keep his feelings under wraps is annoyingly hard when they’re living under the same roof, more so since Aiden is so caring and selflessly showers him with kindness. Haru knows family is important to Aiden, who has been shouldering the burden of raising five younger siblings, and it’s best Haru never reveals his feelings to Aiden. Then again, an eighteen-year-old boy with raging hormones can only bottle up so much until everything starts to burst. In Love With My Hot Stepbrothers is a steamy stepbrothers bl/yaoi/gay harem romance. The uke (main character) will end up with multiple semes (male leads) as the story progresses. Expect lots of steamy scenes and lots of love. Update Every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.

I asked my husband for a divorce during the most difficult year of his life. Everyone condemned me, calling me heartless, but I still forced him to sign the divorce papers. Later, he overcame his struggles and rose to become a powerful CEO. I avoided him for two years, believing I’d never cross paths with him again—until he caught me at my most wretched. His eyes brimmed with hatred as he stared at me. In front of everyone, he humiliated me and relentlessly forced me to down a bottle of vodka. I vomited uncontrollably, blood gushing from my mouth in thick streams. He mocked me, telling me it was the retribution I deserved for betraying him. I didn’t argue. I let him torment me. After all, I was already dying. If that made him content, so be it.

I, Cassidy Stanford, am on a graduation trip with my childhood best friend, Randell Lautner. Just as we plan to return home, he suddenly extends my hotel stay for another week. When I want to ask him why, a barrage of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Run, Randy! Don't let Cassidy stop you anymore! Don't you know that Evie did poorly in her exams, and she's about to be married off to a random bald guy by her own parents? Run! It's urgent! Go save her now!" "That's right! If it weren't for that wicked woman using her childhood friendship bond to manipulate Randy the whole time, Randy and Evie would have been together a long time ago! Cassidy is such a horrible person!" "In the original story, Cassidy cried and threw a huge fuss after finding out that Randy was leaving her. She even threatened suicide to make him stay with her, which ultimately caused poor Evie to be forced into marrying Baldy! And Randy hated her so much after that he began getting revenge on her! "Hah, just wait and see, Cassidy! She will soon get what she deserves! Randy will eventually torture her until she turns into a madwoman! It's going to be so satisfying!" "That's a pity, though. I know that we're just following the script here and that Randy eventually has his revenge, but I really, really hate the evil side character so much! Cassidy was the one who ruined Evie's life! Who does she think she is?" Me? The evil side character? While I am still confused by everything, I suddenly receive a text message from Randell. "Cassie, I have an urgent matter, and I need to leave first. But don't worry. I've already extended your hotel stay for another week. "Behave yourself and don't kick up a fuss with me." What?

J'étais le chef Bêta d'Alpha Damien. Pendant six ans, j'ai été sa partenaire au lit et sa seconde. Lorsqu'il a annoncé notre cérémonie d'accouplement, toute la meute a fêté l'événement. Mon rêve était enfin à portée de main. Mais ensuite, à l'extérieur de sa salle des trophées privée, je l'ai entendu se vanter de ses « essais de Luna ». Et comme ça, j'ai appris la vérité. Je n'étais pas sa seule et unique, j'étais l'une des trente candidates. Il avait passé un mois avec chacune d'entre nous, évaluant nos corps, notre soumission, nos performances. Mon score ? Plus bas que celui d'un Oméga, plus bas que celui de Lilou. « Baiser Lilou était incroyable ! » s'est-il vanté. « J'avais du mal à m'en détacher. Puis j'ai regardé Élise, si raide, si contrôlée, et je me suis juste... ennuyé. » La glace a inondé mes veines. Mon corps s'est figé. Six ans de dévotion, d'innombrables nuits passées dans ses draps, tout cela ne valait pas plus qu'un frisson bon marché et une louve qui savait s'agenouiller. Mon chagrin d'amour s'est transformé en glace. J'ai envoyé un message à un Alpha qui m'avait désirée il y a longtemps. « Adrian, tu as dit un jour que ton offre d'accouplement était permanente. Est-elle toujours valable ? Damien et moi nous sommes fini maintenant. »

After becoming pregnant, my mate Derek transformed from a notorious playboy into the perfect devoted partner. He dismissed all his lovers and stayed by my side constantly, attending to every detail of my care with meticulous attention. Everyone marveled at his dramatic change, claiming he had truly fallen in love and reformed because of me. Three days before I gave birth to our pup, I heard him on a phone call. "Derek, that orphaned omega your mate sponsored is looking for you again. The girl's devoted enough - still chasing after you after all these years." Derek scoffed coldly. "Don't mention her again. If it weren't for accumulating good karma for my unborn pup, I'd never spend another penny on any other she-wolf." But on the night before my delivery, after he received a message from that omega, he decisively abandoned me. "Sorry, Alpha Derek. My bone marrow compatibility test failed. Thank you for sponsoring me all these years. I'm sorry that I can't accompany you anymore." During the storm, he left me alone deep in the forest. I called him desperately through our mindlink, but he had blocked me completely - every attempt met with cold silence. The rogue wolves found me in my vulnerable state. Their attack was merciless, and my body, heavy with pregnancy, couldn't defend itself. The trauma was too much. When I woke up again in the healing center, my pup was gone. Derek gave me the mate bond severance agreement with red-rimmed eyes. "The girl is stubborn and gets upset whenever she hears your name. Once she can accept you, I'll mark you again." Finally heartbroken, I left him behind. Three years later, I was at an auction house with my sister-in-law, my belly round with pregnancy again, when violent sounds erupted behind us. Derek stared fixedly at my swollen belly, his whole body trembling. "Whose pup is in your belly?"