Nora Rose Jean Leak Novels & Stories

That night, Marcus jumped from the old Leedon Tower. The next morning, the headlines were filled with news of his suicide. Cecilia didn’t dare look at the gruesome photos. Lucas handled Marcus’s funeral arrangements. Across the entire city, every headline reported Marcus’s death. But there was one reason no one else knew. When Marcus died, he was still holding a vivid red rose in his hand. And Cecilia suddenly remembered something from when she was fifteen. “Marcus, what kind of flower do you think I’m like?” The girl leaned close, and the boy looked up at her, the corners of his eyes curving slightly.

'' I breathe out. Weeks and months have passed and I've heard nothing about Rose—I've been living my life without a slight care about other people or myself; the reason why I'm still alive is because of her. Truth be told, I haven't fully kept my promise, I've been hiring people to look after Rose but this time it's different. They are hired to only take pictures of her when needed because I want to see how she's doing, I want to see her progress and I want to see her. Even through pictures. As long as she's healing—I'll heal.

“Encrypted drives. Micro-arsenal. Emergency passports, IDs. All wiped or taken.” He passed her the phone. Another message burned on the screen: > Leak confirmed. Internal. High clearance. Leora read it once. Then again. “This wasn’t an accident,” she said. “No,” Ronan growled. “This was surgical.” That old, cold twist unfurled in her stomach. The same one she used to feel as a girl when her father’s men came home soaked in someone else’s blood, calling it “collateral.” That nauseating tangle of guilt, fear, and fury.

Chapter 65 The breakfast tray sat untouched on Rose's nightstand, fresh fruit and pastries growing stale in the morning air. She hadn't moved from the edge of her bed for nearly an hour, eyes fixed on the television screen where her life was unraveling in high definition. "Fashion designer Rose Lewis faces new allegations today," the entertainment reporter said, her expression a mask of professional concern that barely concealed her delight in the scandal. "Former associates have come forward with evidence that Lewis engaged in multiple affairs during her European apprenticeship, including relationships with married industry leaders who later promoted her work."

Her fingers curled into my shirt, pulling me closer, and my heart pounded as the world around us faded away. Just as things started to deepen, the sound of the front door opening shattered the moment. “Nora?” Genevieve’s voice called out, followed by the sharp click of her heels against the floor. We broke apart, both of us breathless and startled. Nora’s cheeks flushed, and I cleared my throat, running a hand through my hair. “In here, Gen,” Nora called, her voice slightly unsteady. Genevieve appeared in the doorway, her expression tight. “We have a problem,” she said, her tone grim. “The media’s digging into your past, Nora. And someone just leaked details about your involvement in the Mor

He said through clenched teeth. Jack tried to sit down beside Leo on the couch and mistakenly stepped on the TV remote that was on the floor, and then the TV turned on. A reporter appeared on TV alongside a picture of Nora. “Information has just come in that Nora Clark, the famous forensic photographer, had been arrested in the Darkfire pack for murder, it is said that she killed her only sister. The people of the Stormchaser Pack are all still shocked at how their hero became a murderer.” The reporter said and continued. “Was she really a hero? Or was she in coh—” Jack quickly turned off the TV.

Nora said. "Yes. But in a way that's useful to us, so we're allowing it." Lore set down his pen. "One piece she gave us this morning that wasn't in the ledger. A secondary account, offshore, that Cross used to move money she never ran through Hart. It names four individuals Hart never knew about. We're pulling those records now." Nora looked at him. "She's giving you more than we had." "Considerably more." Nora walked out. ---

“Numbers. Signatures. This.” Levi dropped to his knees on hotel carpet that cost more than cabin 9’s whole night and pulled her slacks and underwear down. He hooked her knee over his shoulder and put his mouth on her in daylight. Nora’s head thunked the glass. Julian held her up, kissing her, pinching her nipple through her blouse, swallowing every sound Levi dragged out of her. She came standing, shaking, one palm streaking the window.

she said. ​He handed her the cheap, prepaid device they had bought at a gas station. Nora didn't type a message. She didn't call the police. She opened the camera, turned it toward herself—sweaty, tired, with dark circles under her eyes and a sweater that was unraveling at the cuff—and took a photo. Then she took a photo of the burnt toast on the table. Then a photo of a pile of Leo’s muddy shoes. ​She hit 'Reply' to the anonymous email and attached the images.

Leo grabbed my wrist. "Cutting him out of me," I said, my voice ice. "He put a tracker in me two years ago." "Do me a favor. Put this on Damon's desk," I told Leo, my eyes dead calm. "A reminder of our anniversary. The day we met. A day he's long forgotten." "As of tonight," I added. "Nora is dead."