Palm Beach Library Hours Novels & Stories

"It's not me, please believe me." Ashley Patterson stubbornly looked at the people in the car, it was pouring rain, and the car door was wet with rainwater, revealing a cold face. Ashley's whole body trembled. She stood outside the car, one door away, screaming. "Listen to my explanation." The car door suddenly opened. Before Ashley could be happy, a strong force violently pulled her into the car. She fell on top of him, and his white shirt immediately soaked a large area. “Milan Elise, the gangsters who killed Gina were not arranged by me…” As soon as Ashley opened her mouth, a long and strong hand squeezed her chin mercilessly, and from the top of her head came his magnetic voice. "Do you like me that much?" His voice was clear and cold, faintly smelling of cigarettes - a taste that belonged to him. "Huh?" Ashley was a bit confused, she liked him, and the whole world knew. Why does he suddenly ask like that now? The man squeezed Ashley's chin, his other arm was long and strong, and his palm gently touched her cold, wet cheek from the rain. Ashley got lost in his gentle eyes, she seemed to hear this man ask. "Is it cold?" Suddenly, a cold breath radiated from his body. He said coldly: "Ashley, do you like me that much? Like me so much that you would kill Gina?" The coldness from the bottom of his heart immediately spread to her whole body. Ashley immediately woke up and couldn't help but smile bitterly... She immediately thought, how could he give her such gentleness? This is not gentleness but just a devil's smile.

My sister-in-law sent me a photo of her kissing my husband on the beach. Just a few minutes later, she deleted the photo and sent me a text saying, “Oops, sent to the wrong person. Lol.” I knew it was deliberate. It was never a mistake. She wanted me to see how happy my husband was with her. Clara was never my sister-in-law. Three years ago, my husband had lied about her, claiming she was his younger sister, and I believed him. But after five years of marriage, I discovered—far too late—that Clara was never his sister. She was his mistress, his childhood lover, the woman he had been sleeping with under the same roof as me while making me serve her as if she were truly my sister-in-law. And now what? He had lied again… said he was going on a business trip. Yet Clara had just sent me a picture—a cute, sickening picture—of my husband happily kissing the very woman he had once claimed was his younger sister. The photo carried a timestamp showing the exact time and location. It was real. There was no denying it. They were in Hawaii, on a beach, laughing, kissing, and having the time of their lives… while he had made me believe he was away on business. Without saying a word, I saved the picture and posted it straight to Instagram, captioning it: "Congratulations to my sister-in-law… on finally becoming the official wife.” Then I turned off my phone and went to bed. The next morning, after having breakfast with my cat, Lulu, and taking the warmest bath ever, I turned my phone back on—and froze. Over 200 missed calls were waiting for me. Notifications exploded across my phone. And it didn’t stop there—the number of unattended messages kept climbing past 250.