O Crossed Out Novels & Stories

As the first song came to an end, Max and Damen smiled as they stepped back away from Sam and I to sit on the sofa across from us. “We each want a dance with you separately our Gia, my doe,” Max melodically insisted. The three of them seem to speak without saying anything out load, as if they communicate telepathically. It was strange but also very intriguing.

Zack truly felt trapped in this uncomfortable zone. "I'm sorry, Connie, I have to go home," Zack said, feeling uneasy for a while now. He was quite fed up with the situation and wanted to leave. However, Connie held him back until the doctor and nurse arrived to check on her condition. Finally, this provided an opportunity for Zack to say goodbye to Connie's parents without her knowledge, as she was undergoing an examination in the room. Meanwhile, Zack's other friends also said their goodbyes to leave with him.

“More evenings like this. Your questions, my answers, planning small normal things afterward. Coffee talks. Simple dinners with long conversations. You set the pace and I follow. Let’s meet them at the door.” Security opened the door as Adrian and the investigator stepped off the elevator. “Selene, play this recording,” the investigator said. “Damien Cross gave the final order on Hart.” I stepped forward with Selene. “Play it here. We both hear it. No private sessions. That’s how we work now.” The investigator pressed play. My voice came through: “Lucas Hart needs to be removed from the picture permanently. Handle it tonight.” Selene turned to me right away. “Damien, those words sound clear.

You're just an orphan he took in! There were plenty of other comments below. Melanie let out a cold laugh. "So you two fought again, and now you've come running back to me." She stopped scrolling, turned off her phone, and continued packing her things. If Ken paid attention, he would have noticed that many of her belongings were missing. However, he didn't notice anything unusual. As Melanie double-checked to ensure she hadn't left anything behind, Ken came over with her calendar in his hand. "I saw that you crossed out all the days this week and wrote 'the last day' here. What's that supposed to mean?"

What was written on them wasn't medicine names. Numbers. Names. All crossed out. Ink faded to dead brown. 78.3%. 82.1%. 76.9%. 91.4%. The names varied. Some Omega. Some Beta. Some just code, nothing but letters and digits. Every single one struck through. The force of the lines had bitten into the wood, some of the paper punctured clean through. The last sign's ink was still wet. 99.7%. Name: blank. A shiver shuddered through my scent gland.

‘A cross, thorns, roses,’ she remembered, her hand getting the work on the paper. Bernard and Noah were silently observing her, hoping to recognize the doodles. When Ophelia was done, she straightened her back and held out the paper to the Alpha. He studied the poorly drawn illustration, but it did the trick. A cross wrapped in thorns and resting atop some flowers. “A cross on a flower bed,” Bernard whispered out loud. “Roses.” Bernard turned to Ophelia. “A cross on roses,” she elaborated. “Right,” Bernard said, turning back to the paper in hand, wondering how these doodles were roses before he returned to the matter at hand.

Upon hearing the shameless speech, it feels as if Oakley has just heard the funniest thing ever, causing his eyes to twinkle. Missed Oakley? Since how many years? It’s no coincidence the Cross family is calling now that Oakley has cleared off his debt. Oakley’s eyes turn cold, and he sneers. He replies in a chilling voice, “I don’t have a home. And don’t call my number ever again. We are strangers.” As soon as Oakley speaks those words, he ends the call, blocks their number, and prevents unknown numbers from reaching him. Finn and Monroe Cross’s expressions change, and the gentleness on their faces immediately vanishes, replaced by ugly scowls. It’s as if they’ve just been slapped fiercely.

“Croissants. From the place that pretends they’re from Paris.” “Bless you,” I muttered, taking one. Lila perched on the arm of the couch, crossing one leg over the other. “So… I woke up to your face all over my feed again. It’s giving ‘star-crossed scandal sequel.’” I groaned. “Please don’t start.” She grinned. “Relax. I’m not judging. I’m just saying — the man looked like a walking heartbreak out there. You could feel the tension through the photos.”

She liked her world like this; controlled, immaculate, and hers. Her assistant had just left the report on the collaboration between Duval Holdings and CrossTech, and Clarisse skimmed it with the cool efficiency of a surgeon. Numbers, timelines, projected returns, upcoming brief, it was all there. Damon Cross, as always, delivered results with a surgeon’s blade.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed. Callum Pierce, my childhood friend, sat beside the bed. When he saw me wake up, joy lit up his face. "Stella." My whole body was still shaking violently. It felt as if I could still see those men touching me. Callum immediately held me as I lost control. "It's all right. I've already sent them to prison. "And I had those photos swapped out. Everything taken to the auction was edited fake material."