Novel & Cerita Novel Insecurity

Ernest said. "The moment I heard it from Andrew—" Don had said this already, in the office. He said it again now because the version in the office had been the contained version and this was the early morning version that had more room. "The floor dropped. Not— not the earthquake. But a tremor. And I want to—" He paused. "I want to be honest that what dropped was not just my confidence in the specific decision. What dropped was—" He found the word. "Security. Briefly. The specific security of knowing that the thing that broke us before is not going to break us again." Ernest was very still in the dark beside him.

Found it important enough to throw it in her face. She took a deep breath. Again. Over and over again. But calm eluded her. She had lost her equilibrium. Like someone had thrown her off the spinning earth and now she wasn't able to get back on. Samar had a mysterious hold on her heart, she had always accepted, but this strong? In a split second, her world had tilted off-kilter. She didn't want to be this insecure. She didn't want him to be insecure either. Insecurity made relationships sick. It was termite that ate people up, she knew from her parent's marriage. A formal commitment looked like the brightest idea Samar had ever had in his life.

Instead, it draws me deeper into whatever web we're weaving together. Probably because I need to feel safe right now. After what happened with the car, and the bizarre moment where I thought I saw Viktor, I'm neurotic as hell. Someone wanted me dead. Or hurt. If I hadn't been driving so slowly that day... I push the thought away before it can take root. Here I am, trapped in this place, safe but slowly going insane from the isolation. The mansion is a fortress, complete with security cameras and armed guards who try to pretend they're gardeners. I know because I've tested the boundaries, tried to take walks around the grounds only to have polite but immovable men redirect me back toward the

AVA: I had spent the night all alone in a room, unable to sleep and although Leo wouldn't stop asking how I felt and if he could come in, I didn't let him. This was the first time in my life that I was feeling so insecure. The belief that if a man hurt you, you wouldn't like to go to a male gender must be true because right at the moment, I felt so insecure. My thoughts wouldn't stop rioting with thoughts of what-ifs.

At the same time, a strange sense of unease stirred within me. Just how far had the plot veered off track?

“I hate that I feel this way, especially when I’ve always been so confident, but when it comes to you, I can’t help but feel things that I never thought I would.” “Insecure,” he repeats, his eyes growing wide. “Why on earth would you be insecure? Do you have any idea how much I want you? How hard have I had to fight to keep from jumping you and taking you so many times?” “No,” I murmur, sitting back and biting my lip. “I don’t know because you’ve done such a good job at keeping it from me.” “Come here,” he orders, sitting back in his seat and opening his arms. “If you don’t want to believe my words, why don’t you believe my body?”

I said. His jaw flexed—the same tell I knew too well from nights when restraint finally snapped and he fucked me like he needed to brand himself into my skin. “It becomes one when it changes your vulnerability profile. You living alone near campus while the system is active, governance is unstable, and Laurent is still circling.” The possessiveness beneath the logic was unmistakable. I folded my arms, though it only made my breasts press tighter against my blouse. “This is not a security issue. It’s law school.”

It was a defense against a ghost, as a very real, very financial sword was being thrust into his heart. --- Jonah Magnus witnessed the fall from the highest level of the Panopticon. He did not read the paper; he felt the seismic shock in the hum of the city. The Institute, for all its insulation, was not immune to the currents of mortal fear. He had seen it in the pale, anxious face of his latest archivist, a man who had come into an inheritance of cash tied up in Clarkson stocks. He felt it in the strange, uneasy hush that had fallen over the financial district, a tension that even through these thick, ancient walls managed to intrude.

He's annoyingly hot. “Whoa, really now? And what are your likes, Willow?” He raised both brows with a taunting smile. “Oh, I'll tell you.” I folded my arms, ready to hear whatever nonsense he had to say. “Up-tight, but not because you're so strict. It's just a defense mechanism. Because beneath all that thick skin of yours, you're one hell of a judgmental, insecure bitch.” That word ‘insecure’ made my throat clench so hard. But I gulped it down, refusing to give him any reaction.

His breath. My pulse climbing. My body remembered last night far too clearly. Maybe the cabinet was too small. Maybe the air was too thin. But both of us were breathing too fast. Another loud bang. I thought the monster NPC had found us. Every muscle in my body locked tight. But instead of chainsaw noise, a dramatic, overly sweet female voice floated in. “What if they find us?”