Nine Minutes Novels & Stories

I manage to squeeze myself past the clubbers swaying to the heavy music and into the elevator that would take me to the VIP section. ‘Mustafa,’ Justin's voice pulled my attention as I stepped out of the elevator. He stepped out of my favourite VIP room and tilt his head a little. Justin Gregory, is a twenty-six years old tall, lean guy with sandy blonde hair, dark eyes, and sharp features. He owns and manages Sweet Night all by himself and he excelled at what he does. Wearing a blue shirt, dark faded jeans, and a baseball cap to match. He looked nothing like the businessperson he is. Tonight, it seems he wants to lay back and enjoy himself without the hurdle that comes with running such a h

“Wow. Thank you for your support, bestie.” “Always,” she said without a hint of remorse. Then she clapped her hands together, the sound sharp and attention-grabbing. “Alright! Introductions over. Time check: Nine minutes and thirty seconds!” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me. “Naomi, you have exactly ten minutes—no, nine minutes—to change your clothes, do something to your hair, and get your face ready. We are going out.” I stared at her. “Going out? Sarah, I have no idea what you’re talking about. And why the urgency?”

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