Perfect Novel Novels & Stories

Freya wondered. “So, she’s like that female lead in romance novels who leaves behind her privileged life to work for the man she loves,” Geneva remarked. "Classic." Freya turned to her assistant, eyes narrowing. “Geneva. This isn’t a story of a girl who gave up everything for her one-sided love.” With conviction, Freya added, “This is a story of a perfectionist woman who searched the ends of the world to find love, only to find it right under her nose!”

I knew it the moment it crossed my mind yet I found myself driving towards my penthouse. I entered through the underground packing lot, they were practically empty by this time of the night so I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing me. I cursed as I took one last look at my messed up car. She was definitely going to hear it from me once she sobered up. I got around to her side, opening the door and effortlessly scooping her into my arms. She weighed lighter than a feather. I walked through the private elevator that led straight up to the top floor where my penthouse was. She stirred in my arm and I feared she was about to throw up again before she nuzzled closer to my chest.

It made it easy to manage the narrative. The door clicked open, and Ava looked up to find Roman Devereux leaning casually against the frame. He wasn’t what she expected. Most guys in his position—backed into a corner with their reputation on fire—oozed desperation. Roman, however, carried himself like he’d already won. “Ms. Sinclair,” he greeted, his voice low and sweet. He crossed the room in a few deliberate paces and extended his hand. Ava didn’t move. “We can skip the formalities, Mr. Devereux. Take a seat.”

I turned to find she had placed a couple of tissues in front of me. I gave her a sheepish grin and quickly blew my nose, hoping the speed would cover up the amount I had lodged up. Rowena said nothing and simply drank her tea. Despite her wealthy background, she looked like she was at home in such a quaint shop. But I suppose this was perfect for her. She was someone you wouldn't give a second glance. And yet the more you look at her—spend time with her and get to know her—you'll see how beautiful she is. "Why'd you bring me here?" I blurted out.

I explained as I saw some photos of celestial works and took some photos of it. "That will be cool to watch " I whispered to myself as I saw how the sun was setting, the moment I flipped the book on page two-hundred-seventeen. "Hello! Can we share a table with you?" A cute and timid girl asked. She looked so nervous with a girl on her side. Maybe they were juniors. "Sure, no problem!" I smiled and nodded my head as a response. "Let's go," Kolten whispered after some moments, seemed like he was irritated as we saw that the girls the form the other table was trying to take a photo of him as one of the girls' phone accidentally flashed. He stood up and gently grabbed my wrist.

I bring her favorite white roses and tell her that there is still good in the world. I tell her that evil is always punished. And I tell her that good people are always remembered. Rest in peace, Mary. The world owed you justice, and I have delivered it.

When I opened it, a lovely fragrance wafted out, filling the room like a gentle summer breeze, inviting me to take a deep breath. “Mmm…” I murmured, enjoying the delightful scent that reminded me of my mother’s sweet and soft perfume. Eager to learn more, I unfolded the note inside. “Have you ever wondered if you are really the best version of yourself? If you believe you are perfect just as you are, then you can simply toss this letter aside.” I paused, frowning. “I don’t know anyone who thinks they’re perfect.” With my curiosity piqued, I continued to read the note.

For doubt. The effect is not instantaneous. It’s a slow, sickening unraveling. A mathematician, mid-calculation, suddenly wonders about the taste of rain. A peacekeeper, on patrol, feels a surge of irrational anger at the sterile beauty of it all. A child, for the first time, tells a lie. For no reason at all. Perfection fractures. The flawless, humming order of the Zenith develops a stutter. A hiccup. A beautiful, terrifying flaw.

He bought Laila's favorite necklace in advance, yet when it came to me, he'd only make such empty promises. I bet he'd be delighted after I was gone. He could finally be with Laila. My gaze lingered on Mom, Dad, and Simon before I entered the operating room. When the Dragonbone scalpel sliced open my skin, the last shred of healing ability I had was completely destroyed. The wolfsbane gnawed at my bones and tore my soul apart. I stopped breathing entirely as I reached the end of my life.

Her voice was light and playful because it had to be. Ethan laughed, leaving a kiss on her temple. "Of course, love. You just need more sleep." But sleep wasn't the problem. Reality was. The house, the life, the husband-it was all too perfect. And perfection, she was starting to realize, was its kind of prison. --- The scent of freshly ground coffee and toasted bread filled the kitchen, blending with the crisp morning air. Ethan sat at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper as he always did, a portrait of effortless domesticity. A plate of eggs and fruit waited for Lena, prepared exactly as she liked.