Paper Hearts Cast Novels & Stories

With my one free hand, I quickly dialed a number on my phone. Before long, someone in a white coat appeared at the end of the hall. "Christopher Morris? He has a history of heart disease, right?" the doctor asked as he led us down the VIP corridor. Selena nodded quickly. "So, is it a relapse of his heart condition?" The doctor shook their head. "No, he got kicked in the chest during a fight." Selena had mentioned her brother before. From her words, I could tell he was a good man.

“It is going to be better now that you are here. I heard you did great at university. The Pack is so excited to have you back.” I nodded, even though I was not sure how to feel about it. Of course, I did great at university. I had to. There was no room for weakness at Med School. It was me and my dream against the world. Before I could respond, a hush fell over the small crowd that had gathered. My heart dropped as I turned to see him. Asher Darkheart. The Alpha of the Blood Crescent Pack. The man I had loved for as long as I could remember. The man who had broken my heart.

Clearly visible, even with the skin around it an angry pink, was a red and black Celtic knot in the shape of a heart. She kissed the air a millimeter above the heart. "I love it." In one more drink, she drained her glass then climbed onto the bed, which someone had thoughtfully turned down. "Now for you to see." She spread her knees with her hands, giving him a view of the split crotch of her dinky panties. Peeking out of her neat little strip of curls was the ruby heart dangle. He couldn't resist bending in and tickling it with his tongue then pulled back. "Sorry. It probably hurts, doesn't it?"

Phedra Elizabeth held the remnants of paper in Duncan Hiddleston's hand. “It's so embarrassing. Do you not notice? I accept this business card." "No problem." Albert Joan smiled wryly, the corners of Albert Joan's lips trying to smile in gratitude. “I have another one. You can keep it.” Albert Joan this time turned to Phedra Elizabeth.

Cass waited until the deadbolt clicked behind her before she set the envelope on her coffee table. The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Even the city’s usual hum seemed muffled through the rain streaking her windows. She sat, letting her fingers hover over the silver-inked initials. Whoever had sent this hadn’t just known her name—they’d known her real one. Not the polished, harmless Cass Blake everyone met in daylight. The flap opened without resistance. Inside was a single sheet of matte black paper, the message printed in faint grey type, like a whisper in ink:

he asks. Without a word, Arya shifts her hand into a claw and punches directly into Mathias’s chest. His breath comes out in a whoosh and a gurgle. Arya breaks Mathias’s ribs on the left side, then digs into his chest and pulls out his heart. She looks down at Mathias’s lifeless body, her expression blank. Arya drops his heart to the ground and returns to her position beside Xander. She picks up his hand and holds it to her cheek, tears rolling down her face and onto Xander’s arm.

In the end, she sat on the chair by the corner. How did this happen? She subconsciously looked at Rosalyn, who was lying quietly in bed. Her heart hurt as if she was being stabbed. It was as if Rosalyn's decaying flesh had also decayed her heart. Heather smiled as she held the stack of cards and smiled mockingly at Luna. "If I remember correctly, these are the cards the Lynch Group use to give out bonuses to their employees, right? Now that every one of your servants has one…

she said in tears. Suddenly, her bedroom door opened just as she was about to stab the knife into her heart. “Helena! What are you doing?!” She turned to the door in startled and she saw a handsome man with short black hair and beautiful black eyes walking into the room with a middle-aged man walking behind him. “Darius!” She immediately put the knife on the bed and ran to hug him as she cried in his arms.

up close, they were pure art. "Don't move, Andra," his tongue caressed my name, "and stay quiet for a few minutes." He enjoyed it; his satisfied expression when a loud noise sounded from upstairs was wonderful. He bit his lip and smiled wickedly, looking directly into my eyes. He was so brave that I reached out my hand to his brown hair and combed some of his slightly long curls that fell over his forehead. Surely if you took away Jax Jones's tattoos and piercings, he would be a normal guy like Adam Collins —my sister's boyfriend.

Not this way. I looked up the stairs, and my heart shattered. Lisa stood there, frozen, her face pale, her eyes wide with hurt and disbelief. She looked at me like she didn’t recognize me. Like everything we had was suddenly fake. Broken. “Lisa,” I called out, my voice shaking. But she was already gone. Running. Crying. Her pain stabbed through me like a knife. I ran after her, Clara behind me. We got to our room. The door was locked. I knocked.