Number Five Novels & Stories

The first year after they finally bring me home, the impostor suggests a trip to Golden Island so we can build some brotherly rapport. For safety, my fiancee comes with us. They rack up a massive gambling debt at Golden Island's casino. To get themselves out of trouble, she leaves me behind as a hostage and disappears with him. The casino thugs pin me down, ready to take out their anger on me. I struggle to break free, and that is when I notice the leader's phone lighting up with a number for the island owner. Isn't that the number of the adoptive sister who has adored me for more than a decade?

In the first year I was brought home, the phony heiress Viola Baker suggested a trip to Gold Island to build a sisterly connection with me. My fiancé, Jeremy Abbott, had joined us to ensure our safety. However, they ended up amassing significant gambling debts at the island's casinos. In a bid to flee, he abandoned me on the island as a hostage, vanishing without a trace alongside Viola. The casino staff restrained me, poised to unleash their wrath upon me. In my frantic struggle, I glimpsed a phone number labeled "Island Owner" on the leader's phone screen. "Could that be the number of my brother, who had cared for me for more than a decade?"

When his first love is cruelly snatched away, HRH Prince Leonidas decides to put love and intimate relationships on the back burner. He succeeds for a while, until he meets Elisabeth, a striking young woman with a smart mouth and an attitude that warns him that she isn't a pushover. He is forced to ascend the throne he had previously rejected and due to the pressure to take a wife, he settles for Elisabeth but not without setting up rules. "Rule number one; don't fall in love with me". "Rule number two; no form of intimate touching is allowed." He hopes that their seemingly mutual dislike for each other would prevent lines from being crossed, but he's in for a surprise.

“Oops, my fingers slipped! These pictures were for someone else but I guess the cats are out of the bag now!” A cold chill ran down my spine as I scrolled through raunchy pictures of my Alpha husband and my sister. Five years of unrivaled love and dedication just for him to sleep with her sister on a stupid business trip. Well two could play that game, she unblocks a number and dials it with her heart in her throat. “One night–that’s all you get, after that we go back to being strangers,” She says, and a soft,dominant voice comes out from the other end. “My chauffeur will be there to pick you by right, wear the gown,” “That gown? Not in your wildest drea–” She's caught off by a new influx of pictures and she chokes her words, “Fine, but I'll need to drink–” “No,” he replied calmly, “I want you to remember everything I'll do to you tonight,” Two weeks later the pack doctor hands her a white envelope, “Congratulations, Luna Alice, you're pregnant!” Alice finds herself thrust into a web of lies of manipulation, caught between two brothers. Will she choose a familiar affection or traverse the plains of foreign passions?

My girlfriend and I had agreed that she would come home with me for Thanksgiving to meet my parents. However, the night before the trip, she canceled on me again. My older cousin, who had never liked me, immediately started throwing sarcastic comments my way. “Five years together and she still hasn’t met your family? Maybe she never took you seriously in the first place. And honestly, a man shouldn’t think too highly of himself. You might end up raising someone else’s kid without even knowing it,” he said. I ignored him and stepped outside to get some air, but then I found that the car parked in front of the neighbor’s house looked strangely familiar. My heart skipped a beat. Could this be a surprise from my girlfriend? I was just about to call her when my cousin clicked his tongue and pointed at the car. “Still, you’ve gotta admit Liam Crossby really knows how to live. He brought home a gorgeous and successful girlfriend. You? You’ve spent your whole life losing to him.” My eyes locked onto the license plate, and my fingers froze. Then, I dialed a hidden number I hadn’t used in years. “Bring the guys. Trash the car.”

Abductors bind me in a basement, subjecting me to the torment of dozens. Meanwhile, my husband, Evan Foster, dines by candlelight with his lover, Carmen Locke. My abductors grant me one chance to call for help, and I dial Evan's number. I'm certain he will come for me. I believe Evan would give his life for me, as he once vowed that his future held no meaning without me. Clinging to hope, I call the number etched in my heart. However, Evan scolds me for interrupting their date. "You think I'll come get you? Dream on. Maybe I'll bother to collect your body if you die out there." His words crush me, and I do die. Five days later, Evan stands before the autopsy table, grimacing at the mangled remains before him. Even as the police department's finest forensic expert, having dissected thousands of bodies, he condemns the killer's brutality. Yet, despite his cold dismissal of my desperate plea over the phone, he now wears a look of pity. Evan, if you knew these fragments belonged to me, would you still find me worthy of your compassion?

Karen had invested her last penny in the business she had recently established and was eagerly awaiting the promised funds from her benefactor to take it to the next level. "Maybe he forgot. I should remind him," she thought, and promptly sent a text message: ‘I hate to sound desperate, but my finances are tight.’ After sending the message, she realized she had used the wrong number. She quickly started typing, ‘Please ignore the...’ when an alert popped up on her phone: ‘Five billion dollars transferred to you by Roger Dawson.’ Roger? The first name sent a chill down her spine, but the last name left her puzzled. "Roger? Could it be Tonia's bodyguard?" That was his number, but when did his name change? Her phone rang immediately, and the name she had feared for months echoed in her ears, his voice filled with emotion yet calm like a winter breeze. "Karen, stay put, I'm on my way to you." The call ended before she could process it. He was the reason she had fled, refusing to sign the divorce papers. Her love for him was unrequited, his heart belonging to her adopted sister, but what hurt more was the feeling of being traded between friends like a commodity. She would rather die than return.

The day CARL BRADFORD offered me the contract: "These are the laid-down rules; Rule Number One: You are not allowed to fall in love with me. Rule Number Two: You are not allowed to kiss or hug me, except if I want to, just to convince my father, which I wish will never happen." He didn't bother to hide the disgust on his face when he made the last statement. "Rule Number Three: No one is allowed to know about this contract, not even my brother. This is strictly between I, you, and my P.A. Is that clear?" I nodded nervously, wondering if it was the right decision as I clutched my stomach. This guy was unbelievable, and so full of himself, like he rules the world, and could destroy it with the snap of his finger. "You will get paid monthly as long as we don't get caught, for a year. If you want to ever opt out from this, get ready to pay me back." He said firmly. How on earth am I going to survive with this menace for 365 days? I inhaled deeply, and forced a smile at him. "I should get back to my boss, Daniel". His face twisted into a frown when I mentioned his brother's name. No one needed to tell me, that they were sworn enemies who will forever hate each other until one step downs, or preferable, dies.

Michele Giuliani successfully takes the throne as the leader of the mafia forces in Costa Morala. During an interview, a reporter asks, "According to our observations, you've never concealed or removed the old alphabetic tattoo below your collarbone. Does that mean it has a special meaning to you?" Michele shakes his head with a sneer. "Five years ago, my fiancee, Alma Rossito, looked down on me because the Giulianis had lost their power and authority among the families. So, she ran off to be with another rich man. "Whenever I wanted to give up, I'd be reminded of her betrayal as soon as I laid my eyes on this tattoo. "Now that I've lasted this long, I just want to personally ask her a question." Michele digs out his phone and dials the number he has pinned at the top of his contact list without hesitation. "Alma, do you regret dumping my ass the moment I was kicked out of my family?" I turn the camera toward the chaotic underground casino and reply lazily, "Yeah, I regret doing that to you, Don Giuliani. But I've lost every cent under my name on horse-betting. Can you transfer 50 thousand dollars to me first so that I can earn my money back?" Michele ends the call instantly before punching the mirror next to him. The cracks in the mirror happen to reflect the dark tattoo beneath his collar. What Michele doesn't know is that I'm being held in the casino by loan sharks. Five years ago, I had taken out a huge loan from them and bribed the necessary connections as an anonymous party. That was how Michele got the opportunity to turn the tides in his favor and become the mafia king.

John Garnett's secretary fed me to the dogs on my own birthday. I called his number endlessly to call for help, only for him to block my number immediately, as he fooled around with his secretary at the presidential suite in broad daylight. All I felt was agony as I was ripped into countless little pieces, still holding on to the black rose seeds he had given me when we were younger. That was not thrilling enough for the secretary, however, she buried me in the backyard of John' villa, intent on making my perished soul watch their bedroom activities. It was not until rain poured a month later, and a cluster of black roses suddenly grew in the backyard. "Where's Claire? I was just scaring her with the dogs—did she run away just to spite me?"