Mystic Messenger Phone Calls

Ever since James Barrington the third was a small child, he hated being told what to do. Yes, he was a rebel, a wild child. His mother died when he was in his teens, barely fourteen and his father… Well, suffice to say, he tried his best to tame James, make him into his image. He failed. Miserably. The more he pushed, the more James pulled. Then there was his grandfather. James’ father was his clone. To top it all off, he was the only child. The heir to the Barrington billions. Now his grandfather and father were setting an ultimatum. Give up his philandering and wild ways, get married and take over Barrington Enterprises. Or face being disinherited. Even arranged for him to meet Marcy Davenport, eldest daughter of Richard Davenport, one of the richest and most influential families in West wood. He loved his freedom he was twenty-six for heaven's sake. So, James being the rebel he was, promised himself to marry the first woman he runs into who didn’t know him from a bar of soap, just to shut the old men up. Destiny Johnson is a girl from the other side of the track. Growing up in a poor neighborhood, Des-tiny was used to having very little. Now she lives in a trailer park and works at a convenience store. James sets out to turn her into the perfect girl to impress his grandfather and father, the James’s as he calls them. But as he tries to change Destiny to fit his mold, she is slowly changing his universe around. She slowly reels James in, making him into the man he was meant to be. Call it fate or call it Karma… An accidental meeting changed both their lives in an instant.

My elder sister, Violette married Adrian, the Alpha of the Duskhaven Pack. A year later, under the guidance of Moon Goddess, I married his younger brother, Kane, a Beta. When our son was six months old, we were kidnapped by rogues. The kidnappers told me to contact Kane. I tried to Mind-Link him seven times. Yet, he cut the link each time. Finally, I called his phone. He picked up. "Lyris got scared by a snake. Stop calling. I didn't give you the phone to fight for attention!" The rogues turned vicious as the threats were not working. They stabbed me and my baby with a silver blade. My child died. Right before I lost consciousness, Violette found me through our bloodline sensing. She reached out to Adrian for help. "I am helping Lyris to recover. Leave me alone," he replied. Then he cut the Mind-Link. Fortunately, our father sent help in time. Violette and I barely survived. When I woke up, we had a shared thought, which is to reject the brothers—forever.

She’s playing hard to get, and I love it. I decided a long time ago to let my career as a high-powered New York Editor and my son be my only focuses. But my family had hoped for a different fate. As much as I miss them, I’ve lost touch with them, and with love in general. Wealth calls to me after my grandfather dies and leaves me his billions. But there’s one catch. There always is, right? I have to live on the farm I grew up on for six months and take a break from my big city life. It’s worth it and maybe my little boy will enjoy the time with me. One thing I never expected was a beautiful woman to show up and steal our hearts. She’s everything I want in my life and my bed. But she’s a tough cookie. I’m up for the challenge. There’s nothing I’ve wanted in life that I haven’t gotten. Unfortunately for her, I don’t want just six months in Montana. I’m demanding all of her.

After my rebirth, I vow to stop clinging to my fated mate—the man I grew up with—Damon Hale. When he gathers all the healers in the pack for a party in Alohara, I book a flight to Harborwatch. When he complains that my scent makes him and his wolf sick, I move out and hire a deep-cleaning service for 500 dollars. When he orders me to stay away from his pack, I quit my job as Alpha's private healer and take up freelance work in Coghaven to support myself. Finally, he says my existence might mislead his precious stepsister into thinking he still cares for me. So, I nod and accept Coghaven Alpha's hand in marriage, along with the keys to an 18-million-dollar villa as my wedding gift. Now, I trade all the desperate love I gave him in my past life for clear-eyed, rational deals. After all, I spent everything I had and risked my life for him, only to be betrayed. When his stepsister dies from wolfsbane, he calls me her murderer and condemns me to a death sentence under the pack law. In this life, I shall live for myself. … At Howlfest, I'm walking hand in hand with my Alpha when Damon suddenly blocks our way and fixes his bloodshot eyes on me. "Come back to me, Thalia. If you do, I shall forgive you for your reckless mistake." I sneer and reply, "Can you afford a villa like the one my Alpha bought me?"

On my husband's birthday, I poured my heart into preparing a feast and selecting the perfect gift. Yet, he didn't come home. Instead, I received a picture message—a snapshot of him at the hospital, standing outside the OB-GYN ward, his hand resting tenderly on his childhood crush's belly. Beneath the photo, a message read: [The best birthday gift and a symbol of our decade-long bond.] Furious, I called her. "Don't you know he's married?" Before I could say more, my husband snatched the phone and lashed out at me. "Yvonne just wanted to share the joy of becoming a mother. Why are you overreacting? "Yvonne and I have been best friends for over a decade. Your petty jealousy is disgusting!" I once believed his busyness was for our future, but now I knew—he had been busy supporting the girl of his dreams through her pregnancy. Clutching my own stomach, I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. Ten years of love had drained away. It was time to let go.

The beach was crowded as it was summer and many families tend to camp and have fun during this period. A young tanned skinned girl of about eight years, sat on the sand a little bit far from her family. She had a darkblue hoodie on and a headphone over her head. Her beautiful grey eyes seem to shimmer as she stared with keen interest at the water, while humming a song softly and enjoying the quiet. However, her little peace and privacy was shortlived as a lad of about ten years old, endowed with curly jet-black hair, ran along. He stopped however, on seeing her. She turned to see the one invading her quiet only to see the boy staring at her. She looked at him without saying a word, holding his gaze. Time seemed to fly by as they both continued their staring match which was eventually interrupted, when another lad of same age as the boy came by. "Jordan! There you are. Come, Mom calls for you." The blonde haired lad said, looking at the girl briefly before dragging the other along who continued to stare at the girl from his shoulders until she was out of eyesight. "Hey Elle!" A little girl of same age as the grey eyed, called as she ran towards her. "Come see the sand castle that Rosalie and I built." "Jordan," the grey-eyed girl whispered.

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.

In October 2025, an explosion occurs at a remote lab. An unidentified substance is leaked, and the virus makes people go insane. Anyone who is bitten by these rabid creatures becomes one of them. It's like the zombies people see in movies and video games. On the first day of the explosion, my five-year-old, Joyce Fairfield, is still at kindergarten. I risk my life to hurry there, but I can't even find her corpse when I arrive. I can only look at the surveillance footage to see her face, which is ashen with fear. I also see her mouth, "Mommy!" 15 days after the explosion, I finally traverse the city and get to my mother's home. However, all that welcomes me is a destroyed apartment and blood everywhere. 20 days after the explosion, my husband, Emmett Fairfield, calls me one last time from his office, which zombies have surrounded. He tells me not to leave the house. Less than a month after the apocalypse arrives, I lose all my family. I'm alone as I struggle to survive in this dead world. The spread of the virus triggers chaos in mankind. I exchange all my supplies to save a neighboring couple from bandits, leading them to safety in a secure zone where they can live stable lives. However, my kindness is not repaid. Three years after the explosion, the secure zone is under siege by a wave of zombies. As we retreat, my neighbors shove me underneath a car so I'll distract the zombies. Then, they make a run for it and get away. Trusted neighbors betray me. As the zombies eat away at me, I can feel death looming. All I want is to see my family again. Now, I've been reborn. I have six hours before the zombie apocalypse breaks out.

After I announced my exit from the music industry, the public response was overwhelmingly positive. The only person who voiced his objection was my girlfriend's rumored lover, the up-and-coming songwriter Lucas Zacker. He put on a show of sincerity in front of a crowd of reporters. "It's all a misunderstanding. Matthew is an irreplaceable talent in the music industry. I sincerely hope he returns to the stage." I shut off my phone and turned a blind eye to his public plea. In my past life, one of my songs had been identical to his supposedly original single. As such, netizens accused me of plagiarism, cursing me and wishing death upon my family. Frustrated, I posted the entire creation process online, but it couldn't stand up to the timeline. His new song had been released ten minutes ahead of mine. Just because of the ten-minute difference, netizens sent me photoshopped mourning portraits of myself and even went so far as to come to my house and vandalize it with paint. The relentless cyberbullying went on for years, and it drove me into a deep depression. My parents exhausted their life savings trying to clear my name, only for crazed fans to set our house on fire, causing my parents to burn to death. In the end, when his song won an award, I jumped off a building. But who would have guessed that when I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the very day the new song was set to release.

Just as Justin proposed to me, a phone call interrupted him. Standing close by, I clearly heard the voice on the other end of the line. “Justin, I’m hurt. My leg hurts so much!” Justin snapped the ring box shut and looked at me. “Alice is injured. I’ll have to do this another time.” With those words, he sprinted away, leaving everyone around us staring in astonishment. I had never met Alice, but her presence lingered in every corner of our lives.  At meals, Justin would mention her fondness for sweet desserts.  When I dressed, I came to know her love for soft lavender hues. I argued, I wept, I lashed out, but Justin always countered with the same line. “You’re so jealous. Everyone has their first love. She’s my past, but you’re my future.” So, I turned to a man who had once called me his first love—Quentin—and made a bold proposition. “Let’s get married.”