Phone Beeping Virus 소설 & 이야기

"Are you absolutely certain you want to purchase this Bond Severance Potion? Once consumed, it will gradually dissolve your mate bond over fifteen days. After that, the connection will be permanently broken. There's no reversing it, no room for regret." I nodded without hesitation. "Your name?" she asked, preparing to record the sale. "Sierra McKnight." The witch's hand froze, her eyes widening with recognition. Everyone in our country knew that Damien Blackwood, the Alpha King of the Northern Territory, had an Omega mate he'd cherished and pursued for years before their wolves finally bonded. Her name was Sierra McKnight. Without hesitation, I drank the Bond Severance Potion in one swift motion. Opening my phone, I booked a one-way ticket to Europe departing in exactly fifteen days. This time, Alexander would never find me anymore.

While the criminal was brutally killing me, my dad, the head of the criminal investigation division, and my mom, the chief forensic pathologist, were attending my sister Lily Lambert’s match. In a bid for revenge, the criminal, who had once been captured by my dad, cut out my tongue and used my phone to call him. My dad only said one thing before hanging up. "No matter what’s going on, Lily’s match is the top priority today!" The criminal sneered, "Seems I’ve kidnapped the wrong person. I thought they would love their biological daughter more!" At the crime scene, my parents were shocked by the brutal state of the body and condemned the cruelty of the killer. However, they did not realize that the horrifically mutilated corpse was their own daughter.

At the company team-building event, I got called out by my colleague Samantha Rowler for not removing my price tag—she accused me of being a "freebie chaser." "Oh wow, Carla, you drive a BMW 5 Series. Are you seriously planning to return your clothes within seven days too?" she sneered. I tucked the tag back in and ignored her snide remark. But after the event, as soon as I got home, my phone started blowing up. My chat apps were going insane. A friend had sent me a link: [Luxury-Car Executive Turns Out to Be a Return Addict!] Someone had filmed me leaving the price tag on and posted it to a short-video platform. I opened the comment section and was met with a barrage of insults. [Can't afford to live, huh? Tag warrior.] [Is this car a sugar-daddy gift? Those who know, know.] [OMG, does this woman have some kind of illness? Which brand is this so I can avoid it!] I immediately knew Samantha was behind it. I messaged her to delete the video. Instead, the next second, she blocked me—and pinned a comment to the top of the thread: [You can know a person's face but never their heart!] I was about to post a statement to clarify, my finger hovering over the send button, when I noticed the video's likes had already shot past ten thousand. I laughed. If they wanted a scene, fine—let's make it bigger. I quickly posted a new update: [The outfit is really nice. I'll wear it again next time.] The netizens erupted. The insults doubled, the heat skyrocketed, and the post shot straight to number one trending. I just put my phone down and went to sleep.

After the evening study session, I was just about to return to the dorm when my first boyfriend, the school's valedictorian and undisputed top student, suddenly tore across the courtyard toward me. Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and, in full view of a crowd of stunned students, dragged me into a frantic run toward the front gates. I exclaimed, "Julian, have you lost your mind? Graduation's six months away. Are you really trying to run off with me now?" I struggled the whole way, twisting and pulling against him, but his grip never loosened. "Autumn, don't ask any questions. Just come with me. Hurry!" he said, his voice trembling with panic. We fled the school, jumped into a taxi in the middle of the night, and rushed to another city, where we checked into a rundown budget motel. Arms folded and brow furrowed, I glared at him. "So you hauled me out of school like a lunatic just to hole up in a cheap motel?" His cheeks turned bright red. He flailed his hands in frantic denial, then thrust a phone into my hands. I barely had time to unlock the phone and start dialing my parents before a breaking news alert flashed across the screen. My eyes locked on the screen, and I went rigid with shock. The headline reported, 'Mass Death at Blackwood High: All 5,000 students and faculty found dead last night after experiencing catastrophic bleeding. Only two students who skipped the study session survived.' I looked up at Julian in horror. He was staring at the screen too, his face white as paper, cold sweat running down his forehead. "You knew, didn't you?" I asked. "What the hell is going on?"

Deep in the night, I saw my son, Carl Turner, drinking a bottle of milky white liquid. I was shocked by the discovery. Our next door neighbor was a pregnant lady, and to top it off, she was the mother of Carl's collegemate. Right after that, he whipped out his phone and played a questionable video, all the while working his other hand under the sheets. In the video was none other than the intimate moments he shared with that pregnant lady! I felt an itch in my heart as I thought of the pregnant lady's daughter, who had just reached legal age. The supple body of a young woman and those alluring curves in all the right places… Since she took advantage of my son, then she had no one to blame for me taking her daughter.

When I learned that Holly Jones had gone to deliver cold medicine to her young assistant, even though she knew I was trapped in the elevator and suffered from claustrophobia, I asked for a divorce. Holly signed without hesitation. Smiling at her best friend, she said, "Jim is just throwing a little tantrum. His parents are gone, so there's no way he'd really divorce me. Besides, there's a thirty-day cooling-off period before it's finalized. If he regrets it, I'll graciously forgive him and take him back." The very next day, she posted a couples' photoshoot with her assistant, captioned: [Capturing your every sexy moment.] I counted the days. Calmly, I packed my belongings and made a phone call. "Uncle, buy me a ticket to Hudson City."

Due to one phone call, Carl Lorde left me behind in a deserted area on the highway, even though I had been pregnant for four months. I walked to a rest area to ask for help, but in the end, I was unable to keep the baby. I broke down and called Carl, but he kept rejecting my calls. The next day, his childhood friend posted an intimate photo of them lying side by side in bed, with a caption. [With just one call, you’d come over to my side no matter what.] Everyone was waiting for me, Carl’s girlfriend, to make a joke of myself. However, I just wiped away my tears, liked the post, and commented, [Congratulations, you two are a match made in the trash dump. I hope you rot in hell together.]

As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight.

My fiancé is the heir to a mafia empire. For seven years, I believed our love was the one true thing in a world built on lies. Then, on the night of our engagement party, I found him holding another woman — my own half-sister, the daughter of our family’s oldest enemy — whispering words that shattered everything: "I regret everything. Come back to me, and I’ll call off the wedding." I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I made a phone call instead. Three weeks later, on what should have been our wedding day, I erased my identity and vanished from his world. But not before making sure our wedding would be one he — and every family in the underworld — would never forget.

It's been two years since everything was taken from his world. He has become a ruthless and cold leader and he likes it that way. Now in one phone call, he must go back to where it all happened and face his demons. He must protect the one person he never thought would ever cross his path again. Jensen has not let his guard down in two years and in one glance he is totally taken off his game. Lynn never thought that she would find peace and now she must put her life in the hands of the man who blames her for the death of his fiance. Can Jensen get past his hatred and keep Lynn safe or will she face the same fate as his first love?