Monochrome Rumors Novels & Stories

Not one bit. “Micro-penis?” Her eyes flare. “It’s a joke,” I say dryly. “Go get him. Please.” As in, please get out of my sight because I can’t say one more word about him. She gives me a weird look and then a rushed bye as she heads their way. The entire place is still whistling and cheering. The applause goes on for an absurdly long time, and my body grows stiffer with each passing moment. “Hope you don't get an STI,” I murmur.

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the Blue Moon Pack's territory. On the balcony overlooking the vast expanse, Lark and Gabriel engaged in a conversation fraught with concern. Gabriel's anxiety was palpable, his worry etched across his face as he gazed out into the night. "Lark," Gabriel began, his voice a low murmur, "I can't shake this feeling of impending doom. Carla's jealousy and obsession with Mara are clouding her judgment. I fear she's leading us down a dangerous path."

Harmonia intervened naturally. Maria nodded repeatedly. Harmonia then looked at Monica and asked, “Monica, what did you want to show me?” Monica regained her composure and swiped on Monica’s tablet immediately. “Monia, which of these hair colors do you think looks the best? Can you help me decide?” Harmonia took a look. Red, yellow, purple, green, blue, and gray, were all mixed together. At first glance, it looked like the ‘emo goth’ style.

They fell into an awkward silence afterwards. Damien tried to start a conversation. " There's a rumor going around, are you aware of it my lady?" He asked. Serena glanced at him. " What rumor?" " That the Duke will be divorcing you soon. Is it true?" Serena was shocked. No one was supposed to know that, at least not yet, Gerald hadn't made any announcements of any sort. " Where did you hear that?" Serena couldn't help but ask. " It's the trendiest gossip, I'm sure you must have heard. Is it true?" Damien repeated.

Sorata's surroundings were too bright and it made him who was always lacking the confidence to feel even more inferior which was why he answered Shiina's question with an opal color which was a very dull color and that answer made Shiina confused. Shiina looked at Monica and hoped to be able to get an answer from him. "What color, huh?" Monica rubbed his chin and said without hesitation and full of confidence. " Right now, I am the color and in the future, my color will be even more dazzling." Monica had a right to say all of that since he knew that his future was unlimited with the system and his ability, so that was why he said that he was the color now. It might be Shiina's first time to

I just hope for his sake it doesn’t reach the press. If it does, the wokers will pick this up… the drama will be cancelled… the production will kick him out… it’ll be a whole load of sticky mess—-. ‘What the fuck.’ I looked up from my plate and found myself staring at black, bold letters of a headline: THE WOMEN OF RUM’S HAREM. Below it, the first line: Rum—a global sensation or a global monster? Known intimately as the Prince of Music, or ‘Everyone’s Rum’, the talented artist has allegedly turned his agency into his personal fuck den….

I said. "What is it?", I asked. "Mina and Malik in the music room". Tochi said. "naked in each other". "They're having sex, Oga. It's not hard to say", she said. "Rumours turned out to be true, that's the caption. This abroko person is a real witch oh." "It already has over one thousand views, they're going to get expelled". Tochi said and my heart froze. "Whoever these people are they are taking people out without any mercy". Mofe said and I remembered what Lola said. The letters, threats, everything had stopped coming for a long time now and that meant one thing, they wanted to take me out too.

It shattered on the floor, splashing cold tea across her boots, but she didn't feel the wetness. The pain grew. It wasn't just a headache anymore; it was a vision. In her mind’s eye, she saw a place she had only heard about in scary stories. Deep under the mountains, in a tomb made of silver-veined rock, a heavy seal was cracking. A hand, grey and clawed, pushed through the stone. Something is coming. The thought wasn't her own. It was a dark, oily whisper that coated her mind. The First-Born—the father of all monsters was waking up from a five-hundred-year sleep. And he was hungry.

But now, I felt like the prey. The limousine pulled up to the penthouse. The building was a tower of glass and steel, a monument to my success, yet it felt like a mausoleum. I didn't want to go inside. I didn't want to see that empty, cold look in her eyes again. As I stepped out of the car, my assistant, Dominic, was waiting by the elevator, his tablet in hand and a look of grim professionalism on his face. “The late-night reports from the social media monitors are in, sir,” he said. “The blind items are gaining traction. People are starting to link the Blackwood Group’s recent stock moves to the… rumors.”

Mirella The second day after returning home, the walls of my father’s house feel like they’re closing in. Rosa’s story about Vittorio Caruso’s murder still echoes in my head. I move through the day like a ghost—polite smiles for my father, careful words, perfect daughter mask firmly in place. But inside, I’m unraveling. Silvano’s encrypted phone stays silent most of the day. Then, just after midnight, a single message appears. Silvano: Balcony door. Now.