Mischief Managed Novels & Stories

"Core is fried. Drives are physically damaged. The data's gone. All of it." Martin's legs gave out. He collapsed onto the floor, mumbling, "Gone… It's all gone…" The launch was an obvious failure. Not only was funding out of the picture, but the penalty clauses would also hit hard. The company was doomed. "Police! Over here!" A commotion erupted at the entrance. Martin suddenly snapped upright like he had been electrocuted. He pointed at me and shouted, "Officer, it's her! She sabotaged my company's servers and caused the business to collapse! Arrest her!"

Trash. Was she regretting it? Regretting stealing my life? "It is hilarious." I laughed under my breath. "Trying to hustle a hustler? Cute. Better deal with that pregnancy before your belly rats you out." "Hannah Hart! I'll destroy you! I'll marry into Northport's elite! You'll always be beneath me!" She looked completely unhinged. "Fine. We'll see." I was leaving when I heard Lindsay lay into her. Sweet voice, poison words—if she didn't get her way, no one was nastier than Lindsay.

Since when did I begin to take the suggestions of a man who looked like he was always five minutes away from starting a fire? Since the day I found out he was my mate, I guess. I found myself replying in my head. Beginning of a bad joke. I began to think of bright ideas on how to get out of this beautiful—terrible, rather—mess I’d gotten myself into when a light rustle came from the tent flap. Company! I panicked, my muscles tensing. We have company! Someone would see this and tell other people who would get the wrong idea. The idea of everything set panic down my spine.

What truly enraged me was the second part of the investigation report. John hadn’t just been pretending to be the richest man in the city for the sake of his ego. He had used that false identity to scam people. Under the name of internal investment projects from Spencer Group, he had tricked more than a dozen small business owners into investing money. Altogether, the amount exceeded two million dollars. Karen was even worse. Using the title of the richest man’s wife, she had paraded herself around several business wives’ circles in the city and accepted all kinds of benefits.

" Adam says through the phone. His voice sounding more desperate for help than what I think he intended it to sound. I heard people in the background, kids. I couldn't quite make out what they were saying, there were too many of them to pick up on one specific voice. "Get off of her!" Adam yelled. "James," he said, bringing his attention back to me "Bro, I can't do this alone. I've had to separate five seventeen year olds. They are turning my house into an orgey." I covered the speaker part of my phone with my hand and began to laugh. I couldn't help it, Adam was always incontrol. Even in our high school years he was always on time, no homework was ever undone and he never missed class.

"I'm sorry, who are we looking for again?" "My youngest daughter, Jacqueline or as we like to call her Trouble. Call her on her cell, Kris, please. Only God knows what she is up to now." Peter was worried sincerely because Jacqueline was a very unusual child. She never acted her age, never dressed appropriately and her favourite form of fun was ditching her chauffeur to take the subway train. She had outgrown all her babysitters but none had any effect whatsoever on her. Peter would have sent her to her grandmother's but for fear that her strange behaviour would send the aged woman to her early grave.

My phone incessantly buzzed as I retreated from the bustling mass. Although I had no desire to be associated with her baffling and inexplicable vanishing, I struggled to come up with a more effective method to divert suspicion away from myself. It occurred to Alex, Maurice, and Jackson that we could orchestrate a scenario where I would be attacked and hit on the head, subsequently becoming her companion and embarking on a casual stroll to dispel any doubts. Surprisingly, this plan turned out to be even more foolproof than the previous one. I couldn't help but grin as I closed the phone. "Perfect." The pieces were finally falling into place, and I could feel the excitement bubbling up inside

“Yes?” Her gaze held his. “You asked earlier if everything is alright.” He nodded. Ava tilted her head slightly. “You already know the answer to that.” A faint exhale left him. “I had my suspicions.” She studied him. “How much do you know?” Mr. Martins hesitated briefly before responding. “Enough to understand that the situation isn’t simple.” Ava’s expression didn’t change much, but something in her eyes shifted. “Mismanagement,” she said quietly. “Funds that don’t align with reports. Investments that don’t exist.”

At a gathering with friends, my boyfriend, Donovan McPherson, suggested we play a game of “I Have, Have You?” The winner would get to make one request of him. Everyone there knew I had been trying to get him to make me, Celeste Campbell, Mrs. McPherson for five years, and for as long he had not obliged. Now they all assumed he was giving me a chance. So, tacitly aligned, everyone held back to let me win. But his childhood sweetheart, Lily Kensington, would not relent. “Donovan watched the first snowfall with me. “He gave me a scarf he knitted with his own hands. “The tattoo on his wrist is my initials. “His passenger seat is permanently adjusted to fit my height.” After those four, I had onl

He stroked me lightly, "Maybe." I shook my head at his answer, which never made sense, and then we fell silent, just staring at each other. And everything was so.. weird. At one point, we were at each other's throats. At another, we could be entangled in infatuation with each other. I sighed softly and began to speak to settle his nerves. Because of the misunderstanding, he did a bad thing.