Novel & Cerita My Front Page Story

For me it was a work of seconds all I had to do was to say and it was supposed to happen. I told you earlier, I'm the one who's responsible for everything and I'm the one who's lead in this story of paranormal timelines. Because I'm the Narrator, and whatever the hell I say is supposed to happen. It's nature, and I'm the creator of nature, I'm nature myself…?

QUINN "Let's move Lisa's article to the page two, and then stick the picture from the band competition on the front page." Jake leaned back in his chair, dropped his head and looked at me upside down. "Slow news week." I laughed, and turning back to the computer, focused on dragging the photo onto the right spot on the front page. "Don't worry. If the football team makes it into the playoff games, we'll have pictures and stories for weeks."

"No, I was woken up by the sound of firecrackers outside. Have you gotten home?" "Yes, I arrived yesterday. But I haven't gone back home yet. We stayed a night in town. We're going back today." With that, Ginger brought up the main topic. She was extremely excited as she said, "Hey, did you see the news yesterday? Mr. Page's loving confession made it to the trending page! "The top 20 tags were all about Mr. Page. It's a new record!" Belle knew what Ginger was talking about. She didn't keep it a secret, either. She asked carefully, "Does everyone know that it's me?"

Your patience and understanding during this process are greatly appreciated. In the meantime, I would love to stay connected with you and keep you updated on my progress. Please join me on my page, H.A. Shah Readers, for the latest updates and announcements regarding the story. On this platform, I will be sharing sneak peeks, behind-the-scenes insights, and exclusive content related to the book. It’s also a great place for us to interact, and for you to share your thoughts and feedback. Your input is invaluable to me as I work to improve the book. I welcome any suggestions or comments you may have. Whether it’s about specific scenes, characters, or overall themes, your insights help me under

She didn’t say anything. I pushed. “I have receipts. Dates. Photos. I even have private messages—sweet little things he used to send when he thought no one else would ever matter.” “You’re sure you want to go public with this?” Marnie asked. “If this backfires…” “It won’t,” I said quickly. “Not with what I have.” She hesitated again. “And what do you want?” “Front page. Tomorrow morning. I want this new fake love story of his to drown in smoke before it even gets the chance to light up.”

"I'm sorry baby," I muttered rubbing my flat belly. I'm just four weeks pregnant. I laughed like crazy. Mentally celebrating my plan. Stavros' POV. I was still pre-occupied about what happened today. The New York Times Magazines had finally agreed to stop publishing the story. But they can't retrieve those that already sold out, which is just fine, it will definitely die down. "Knock. Knock.." "Come in," I said. Andrea opened the door and walked in a few steps. "Is there anything you need Sir, if nothing, may I leave?"

"The grieving billionaire and the greedy daughter. It is a very good story, Camille. It has just enough truth to work, and enough venom to do real damage. I will draft it now." "Make sure it runs on the front page tomorrow," I said, and hung up. ******** The next morning, I woke up early and grabbed my laptop before I even poured my tea. I opened the homepage for Jean-Luc's paper, scrolling down the main page with a tight, expectant smile. Nothing. I refreshed the browser, but the headlines remained exactly the same—local politics, a sports strike, and international trade news. There was no mention of Bella Black, no mention of an emotional trap, and no mention of the Marchetti group.

She pouted. "Mami, I don't care. All I know is I want you to pack our bags before I return." He snapped. "Someone is on his period" She whispered waving hand at the friendly receptionist. After packing the bags up, she opened the curtains. Looking at the busy street, she will miss taking tea while hussain is hugging her behind. She sighed softly, this is not how she wanted her vacation to end. She wanted to leave a memory behind and now all the memory she will leave behind, is that of her husband fighting his brother.

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Also when I’m visiting Mason. The front page is about me. I don’t know whether to be angry at them or thankful. Thankful because they’re spreading the message. I’m no longer a doormat to be stepped on. ‘Lauren Smith is back and she’s colder than the Antarctica’ it reads. Below the headlines there’s a picture of me slapping the guard. It then goes on to talk about what happened that day. Someone probably sold the story and the image. The person was getting fired. Once I found out who the fuck it was.