Mobi Contact Novels & Stories

"May I speak to Piper?" I hear when I answer my phone. "This is she." I don't recognize the voice on the other end, nor the number on the caller ID. "This is Renee. I work with Moby except I'm at the Greer facility. I don't think we've ever formally been introduced."

How can he even manage to talk with this piece of shit? "What's even the point of being inside that circle...?" Moe muttered out of the blue, looking at the people who were passing by his car. "Man... you need some help." I said, as I scanned Moe from head to toe. The bastard only gave me a look. And I can hear what he was trying to say just by the looks of it. Moe looked away from me and pulled out his phone. His gesture almost shocked me because it was so sudden, but immediately came to my senses when he dialed on the phone.

Mike was trying to contact his boss and Ida for the last one hour without much success. "Why can't I reach them? I think the mobile reception in that area might be less. I should wait for them to contact me. They will contact me as soon as they reach an area with good mobile reception. In the meantime I should contact the Watson group about the time of the rescheduled meeting" he told himself and relaxed. He walked out of his room with long purposeful strides to the Watson group head office to reschedule the meeting.

Arcel rushed to me while I was in the garden. I have been staying and resting here since it’s the pace where I can actually be at ease. There were less guards here, less violence, and there were plants were refreshing, giving me a peace of mind. “Ma’am, you have received a call,” she said as she handed me the phone. It was my phone who were confiscated from me when I first got here. Though Vincenzo gave it back to me a week ago—right after the incident in the car.

The message was from his contact at the number he used for operational communication. Not Leonard. He held the phone for a moment, absorbing the particular shape of the feeling that arrived and then receded when he saw who it was from, and then he read the message. Morrison's number went dead this morning. SIM deactivated. Not a carrier issue. He read it twice. He put the phone face-down on the nightstand.

We exchanged numbers quickly, the process simple and almost oddly normal. I didn't exchange numbers with people. It might've sounded odd, but I had only four contacts saved on my phone—Victor, Kai's caretaker, one of our in-house staff, Brandon, and, most recently, Cassandra. I felt like I'd accomplished something more today, even if the last hour hadn't been so great for me. After the exchange was done, we started toward the parking lot together. As Kai talked animatedly beside me, I glanced down briefly at the new contact saved in my phone.

The same phone that had connected her to a stranger with a voice too calm, too confident, too dangerous. Arielle stared at the screen like it might suddenly come alive. “What are you?” she murmured. Outside, the city was slowly waking up. Faint traffic hummed somewhere beyond her apartment building, and a pale gray light crept through the curtains. She hadn’t moved in hours. Finally, she reached for the phone. Her fingers hesitated over the screen before unlocking it. The call history stared back at her. One number. No name. No information. Just ten digits.

After hanging the luxury garment securely in the corner of Abigail’s wardrobe, Moza returned her focus to her primary task. She booted up the presentation file on reproductive health and began revising several slides according to the precise instructions Dastan had issued yesterday. In the middle of her intense data compilation regarding the effectiveness of contraceptive devices, Moza’s phone—resting right beside the laptop—vibrated sharply. When she peeked at the screen, it displayed an unrecognized number. Moza hovered in hesitation for a brief second, but ultimately decided to answer the call. "Hello, who is this?" "Moza? It's me, Rezon." The familiar baritone voice immediately drifted t

" she said as she came out looking beautiful. "Alright" I said and we both left the house. It's been two weeks now since I broke up and I am healing faster than usual the only downside is having no one to talk to. I always love texting especially my boyfriend now he is not in my life it made me realise I have no friend, I can't always be chatting Jess, she doesn't even like chatting. I took a deep breath as I scroll the contact on my phone to know if I can see who to lift my boredom away, though I am in the office we actually have nothing to do. I am in the marketing department we hardly do anything in the office our field is outside marketing new product or old ones and convincing new custo