Novel In God We Trust Novels & Stories

Gary asked, staring at me with his words full of despise. I shook my head, looking back at him, and smiled. “The Mafia God was my excellent ally and friend. I've known him for some while, and if he were here, I don't think anyone would act as insolent as you. Novela intruded into the conversation, bringing to everyone's notice the Mafia God's attitude towards Gary while he was alive and how he didn't let him get too much into the business. Novela's words changed everything as doubts began to grow in the hearts of those that placed their trust in Gary, as I stared at them looking away and whispering to each other, making it easy to identify them.

“Not full communication. But something close.” Nova felt strange hearing that. “You mean they know we’re watching over them.” “Yes.” “And they’re okay with that?” Kieran’s tone held quiet wonder. “They’re not afraid.” Nova whispered softly. “Why?” His answer warmed her heart. “Because they trust us.” She let that truth settle inside her. Trust. After everything. After all the chaos. They still trusted. Nova spoke quietly. “We can’t betray that.” “No,” Kieran agreed. “We won’t.” Another moment passed.

“It’s about ordinary safeguards. Design for what people are tempted to ignore.” The room shifted. That sentence would circulate later, stripped of attribution. Good. By the end of the week, public sentiment had not resolved into consensus. But it had settled into something sturdier. Cautious trust. Not admiration. Not forgiveness. Not absolution. Trust that the truth would not be hidden again simply because time passed. That trust was fragile. And that was acceptable. Fragile trust demanded maintenance. Nathaniel and Lillian walked through the city one evening without security beyond what discretion required. No one stopped them. No one stared.

And soon, she’d forget any other way to speak. ~ARIA~ That night, she sat alone in the war chamber. The Book of Ashes open before her. She dipped her pen in ink and wrote slowly: VII. Trust is a lie whispered by corpses. VIII. Fear is the only loyalty without motive. IX. The house must bleed before the world can kneel. Then she closed the book. Stared into the dark. And whispered to the shadows, “Let them come.”

He turned to me and softly added, "Darling, you should go to bed. No need to wait up for me. I'll be done soon." I nodded and went to the master bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Outside, Ethan hurriedly dragged Nora to the study and locked the door behind them. If it were just for work, why lock the door? Ethan thought this would keep me in the dark. What he didn't realize was that, years ago, he had given me access to his computer's webcam as a way to prove his loyalty to me. All these years, I had trusted him and never checked it. Over time, we both forgot about it.

It's musky, woody with a hint of sweetness and all I want to do is run my tongue all over his caramel coloured skin to see if he tastes as good as he smells. “My brother is a very good-looking male, and you can trust him to take excellent care of you. He will meet your needs, and you will never want for anything else ever again.” She retorts defensively, snapping me out of my sinister thoughts. Zion the big jerk is sin in alien form, and he makes me want to be a sinner… “The problem with trust, Nova. Once it is broken, it's difficult to repair. Anything that threatens it again, can take the formed fracture and snap it into two, even if the truth isn't what you perceive." I state firmly, hitt

This was Faith's journal. He flipped some more pages. In the beginning, nothing was all that interesting in the book. It was just about daily life. Some of her stories showed that she had a tough life. She wrote about how hard she worked to support her family and her sick father. It wasn't anything new Anthony didn't already know about. His chest felt heavy as he kept reading. Faith's life hadn't been easy. Her father was so cruel to her. So, no wonder she had a hard time trusting men. Trusting him.

“Just… rocks. This must be a dead end.” The silence that followed was heavier than the mountain above us. He didn’t move. I could feel his gaze on me, sharp and assessing. The simple act of hiding the book, the instinctive lie, had carved a fissure right through the middle of our fragile, hard-won trust. It was now a thing with a crack in it, and the cold, ancient truth was seeping in.

I’d watched Celeste use a rotation of burner accounts to burn Cheryl’s life to the ground online over a couple of weeks, cowardly, indirect, designed to plant a seed and let someone else do the dirty work of watering it. I picked the phone back up and read it a fourth time. God, I hated how easy it was for the doubt to sink in. It slid right into the groove Richard had spent eighteen years carving out, the part of me hardwired to expect the knife in the back the second I turned around. Trust is weakness, he used to say, usually right after someone failed him in a way that had zero to do with me. Everyone leaves. Everyone takes what they can get and disappears.

Inside there are black candles, several scrolls, and a thick pitch-black book. Of course, it is the book that gets my attention. I took it and inspected it if there are dents, torn pages, or mites. Fortunately, although the book looks old, it also looks new, feels new, and smells new. It has gold writings on it, Death of God. "Death of God?! How did this get to here? I am sure if Mama saw you, she's gonna burn you," I said laughing at my own jokes. See, I am not just unlucky, I am also corny and crazy.