Novel Nev Nov Novels & Stories

This was most certainly going to be entertaining. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Nicolai announced, “the mind behind NMT…my wife, Nova Moreau.” Nova stepped forward. The applause grew even louder. She kissed Nicolai before moving toward the microphone. For the next several minutes, she spoke about the project. The early research. The failures. The breakthroughs. The first successful trial. She spoke with the kind of excitement that couldn't be manufactured. She really was brilliant. Annoyingly so. Then her expression softened.

She was holding a printed copy of the envelope still sealed. "You two look like you have not slept in days" she said. "Want coffee?" Damian took the envelope. "We want the truth." Claire shrugged. "I bought it from Marcus Vale. He said it was the real Vegas secret. Said you would pay double to bury it." Elena stepped forward. "We are not paying. We are taking." Claire smiled thinly. "Then open it." Damian tore the flap. Inside one single photo. A grainy Polaroid of a newborn baby wrapped in hospital blankets. On the back handwritten "Damian Holt. Born six forty seven a m Vegas General. Father unknown."

She asks. Nova sighs and crosses her arms. “Nova is an extremely passionate empath and can feel when something is not right with someone, when their scent is off and when they’re trying to hide something. This is basically how her abusive minders discovered her secret while at the orphanage. Once she catches onto the scent, she doesn’t let go until the truth is revealed and yesterday pushed her over the edge.”

The most burning question on his mind was: What is Neve Odell doing here? He thought for a second and immediately had an idea. Leaning toward Herschel, he instructed him, “Go to Sky Loft and pass this message to Will Schumer…” As he sent Herschel away, Neve strutted into Drakon Real Estate. She dismissed the secretary who wanted to notify Jade and barged right into the young woman’s office. Jade raised her eyes and met hers. “Now what?” Neve swept her hair back with a flick of her wrist. “I’m here to bring you some good news,” she announced. “From now on, I’m the Vice GM of this company. My authority encompasses all matters related to Sky Loft!

Breaking the hug, he walked towards the cupboard which widened Mindy's eyes because she knew exactly what was the matter there. Reaching the cupboard, Nero opened it and his eyes widened, seeing Anisia and Nevan there, where Nevan was cupping Anisia's mouth. She immediately pushed Nevan's hand away from her mouth and passed Nero an innocent smile. “We were not eavesdropping,” she told him. Nero scowled whereas Nevan rolled his eyes at her words. “This was exactly what we both were doing here,” Nevan informed before stepping out of the cupboard. Anisia frowned.

Nove is a hifi class d stripper, she counts six figures, charges a lot and has no real social media accounts apart from the ones created by her fans here and there. She literally lived like a ghost, she was okay with everything and everyone but hardly went to gatherings. She had never been traced down to her very own house apart from.hotels, she hated people getting in on her personal space She hated being questioned about her love life, personal life, health life in fact she hated being questioned about anything and everything. She made lots of money but then hardly spent it, she had never purchased a house in her name… maybe she did in another's name but then she had never driven or bought

The air was pressurized, filtered, and scented with a hint of expensive leather and Nevan’s lingering cologne—a scent that had become my only true compass in a world where north was a shifting variable. Nevan sat in one of the oversized captain’s chairs, stripped to a black tactical undershirt that clung to the hard, restless planes of his chest. He was cleaning his weapon—a ritual that was less about maintenance and more about a man trying to ground himself when his reality had just been rewritten by a dead woman’s letter.

I nod my head in response and look over to Melissa who seems to be unhappy about her friend complimenting my dress. "What is the name of your mother's clothing brand?" Clara asks, curiously. I smile and say, "Little Angels." Melissa's expression completely changes from unhappy to shock while the other girls gasp as if they didn't believe what I said. "As in the famous Little Angel fashion designer Nova Swift? The same one who designs dresses for famous celebrities when they walk down the red carpet?" Brielle asks again. I nod my head in response and say, "Yeah that's my mom."

--- In a dark corner of the Cathedral, Julian knelt before an old filing cabinet hidden beneath stone tiles. He opened it carefully and retrieved a small metal canister - sleek, silver, and cold. Inside, a single vial. He stared at it, fingers trembling. Then, from behind him, a voice. "You never learned how to clean up after yourself." Julian froze. A figure stepped from the shadows. Tall, coat flapping like a bat's wing. Nova. "You came early," he said. She smiled. "Just in time."

Out the windows I could see the sun beginning to set, hazy behind the layer of fog surrounding the town. The door to the station opened and I looked up to see Genevieve entering. I stood, moving towards her into her outstretched arms. "I heard the news," she said. "Are you okay?" "No," I said. "I need to ask you a few things." "Alright." "Where's Nova?" "At the neighbor's house."