Post Malone Quotes Novels & Stories

The day I land a hundred-million-dollar deal for the company, my girlfriend—Paisley Needham, the CEO—finally agrees to marry me. The next day, I wait at the city hall until it closes. She never shows up. Instead, what I get is her official announcement with her assistant, Jude Grayford. In the photo, she nestles in his arms. A crisp marriage license sits in her hand, impossible to miss. The caption reads, "My CEO, Ms. Paisley Needham, couldn't bear to see me going on blind dates, so she just went ahead and got the marriage license with me today. I'm so happy!" My colleagues gossip, assuming I'll be jealous and furious. I don't. I just like the post and comment, "So, when's the ceremony? Don't forget to invite me!" Paisley calls immediately, cursing me out. "I just didn't want to see him being pressured into blind dates by his parents, so I agreed to get married on paper to keep them off his back. It's not like we're actually married. Do you really have to be so petty? "Delete your comment right now and get on your knees to apologize to Jude. If you don't, I'll never marry you." I laughed bitterly. "Even better," I say. "I hope you two have a long, happy life together… and have lots of kids."

When my wife, Katherine Johnson, and her childhood sweetheart, Zack Wilson, were on an overseas vacation, they somehow went missing. All they left for me was a newborn baby born of their affair. 20 years later, I make a post about my son, Wade, passing the exam and joining the police force. Unexpectedly, Katherine and Zack return to the country and decide to sue me. At the prosecutor's stand, Zack sports a slicked-back hairstyle and can be seen wearing a smart-looking suit. The things he says, however, are very rude. "Many years ago, Katherine and I got married after she got a divorce. She then gave birth to a son for me. Harry, who was jealous of our happiness, stole Wade from us! "We've been looking for Wade over the past 20 years, and yet Harry refuses to return him to us! As Wade's biological parents, we have the right to demand him back!" Katherine glares at me angrily as well. "Harry, did you steal Wade simply because you're infertile?" The court hearing is streamed live on various platforms. The viewers are enraged, to say the least. They begin bashing me in the comment section. "To think that he actually stole someone else's kid just because he doesn't have any kids of his own!" "He's the reason that kid was separated from his actual family! What a disgusting, vile man! He must return the custody to the kid's biological parents!" But when Wade does get summoned to the court, everyone is left shell-shocked.

Our third wedding anniversary was coming up, but my wife, a programmer at a major tech company, suddenly claimed she had to work overtime to meet deadlines. She said she couldn't go on the trip we'd planned. That very afternoon, however, her intern posted a video on social media. My wife—the same woman who normally wouldn't even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure—was holding a screwdriver, repairing an old flip phone. The caption read: [Having a programmer wife is the best. Even when Grandma's phone breaks, we don't need to pay for repairs.] I chuckled, liked the post, and commented: [Right up her alley.] Within minutes, the company group chat exploded. There were over ninety-nine unread messages speculating on when I'd finally snap. Not long after, my wife called. Her voice was ice-cold. "What was that comment supposed to mean? How is Shawn supposed to face anyone at work now? "His grandma's phone broke, so I fixed it. What's the problem? Your parents have always spoiled you. You can't possibly understand real hardship. "Delete the comment. I'll make it up to you over the New Year; we can take that trip then." The New Year? I'd already waited through two other major public holidays. I'd even taken special leave for this trip, and she still bailed. Now she was dangling empty promises again? I hung up on her. My leave ended around the same time as our divorce cooling-off period.

Tessa and Raymond’s marriage was never about love, it was convenience, appearances, and expectations. Raymond, with his conventional charm and striking handsomeness, was admired by everyone, but his heart was never fully hers. He had always been drawn to Danielle Green. He claimed she was just a friend, but Tessa knew better. Every secret outing, every hidden smile all carved wounds into Tessa’s heart, leaving her feeling invisible in her own marriage. The tipping point comes when Tessa stumbles upon a post online, a wave of public scolding aimed at her for supposedly breaking the home, for being the obstacle to Danielle. In a blaze of frustration and humiliation, she serves Raymond divorce papers. But instead of freeing her, Raymond refuses. He offers her silly, manipulative terms to meet him, seduces, and taunts her, proving he will never let her go easily. Fueled by a mix of rage and determination, Tessa begins to reclaim her power. She finds herself drawn into a complicated dynamic with Derek, Raymond’s best friend, a man with his own history of tension with Raymond and secret feelings for Tessa. The attention stirs something in her: attraction, validation, a hint of revenge. It ignites a spark Raymond cannot ignore. For Raymond, it is only the beginning. The thought of losing her shook him to the core. He begins to fight for her in ways he never has, even as his love twists into jealousy and obsession. When Raymond finally drops the mask, revealing the man beneath the arrogance, the man terrified of losing her, Tessa is forced to ask herself the question she swore she’d buried: Can love truly be reborn in the depth of hate, or is his devotion just another chain designed to keep her bound?

An intern started reforming the workplace and made an example of me. My CEO girlfriend, who claimed to love me more than life itself, said she would defend me by setting up an elaborate trap to destroy him. She demoted me from VP and promoted him instead. She bought the intern a luxury car and a mansion as his dorm. She said it was all part of the trap and begged me to be patient. Then my sister's heart condition worsened and she needed emergency surgery. I asked my girlfriend for a salary advance to cover the costs, and she agreed without hesitation. On the day of the surgery, I waited at the hospital from dawn to dusk. The money never came. All I got was a mocking post from the intern on social media. "My CEO's way too nice. Some employee tried hitting her up for a salary advance today. What if he just takes the money and bails? So I rejected it. "P.S. If you're gonna scam someone, at least make it believable." My sister died without treatment. Only then did my girlfriend finally call. "Don't be upset. Anna's surgery can wait a few more days. I'm playing the long game. "I'm building Lincoln up so high that when he falls, it'll destroy him completely. His birthday's coming up and I'll make sure he loses everything then. After that, we'll have that wedding you've been waiting for. Anna would love that." However, I had figured it out by now. The trap was just an excuse for favoritism. I was done with her.

Aurora is an orphaned pup, who had everything working against her since the pack she grew up in was raided. Through a happy coincidence, she and her sister were rescued by the Beta of a kind pack: the Midnight Protectors. But they are no ordinary group of werewolves. They are highly trained with special skills that make them exceptionally dangerous to any threat: but especially to vampires. When Aurora stumbles onto a mysterious cavern housing tombs, she can't possibly understand what she's unlocked. Her new pack has many secrets she has yet to understand and the biggest one is that they are housing the male destined to be her true fated mate. Javed is a thousand year old vampire stuck in the body of a seventeen year old male. His boyish good looks are incredibly misleading, no one should mistake how deadly he in fact is. And the lengths to which he would go to have his mate. Excerpt: As I leave dinner and move to walk back inside the packhouse, the cold chill from nights ago hits me. The very thing that set that fateful night in motion. The sun has just set and the air is thick with humidity. I have gotten used to this climate which is all the more reason the cold strikes me as bizarre. My eyes move to a post that sits just in front of the door, the crest of the pack is burned into it. “The Midnight Protectors; Light in the Dark.” I had seen it many times now, but never questioned its meaning. When the cold air hits my skin again, it makes me shake uncontrollably. I force my back to stiffen. “Not again,” I whisper, as I quickly move inside and go to my room. Locking the door.

The company had been losing money for two consecutive years. That year, with our biggest client suddenly going out of business, we lost nearly ten million dollars in receivables. On New Year's Eve, I sent out a company-wide apology email after much deliberation. The email stated, "At this moment, I regret to inform that we can only increase each employee's monthly salary by 20 dollars this year." An intern named Ingrid Little took a screenshot of the email and posted it online. In no time, her post started trending. The entire internet criticized me for being fake and pretending to be poor. They said that my shameless act was a blatant insult to my employees' hard work. "20 dollars doesn't even cover commuting!" "Why hasn't this garbage company gone under yet?" Ingrid replied to each comment with the same line: "I don't care about the money. I just feel insulted. I'm quitting tomorrow." The next day, I walked into the office with bloodshot eyes and turned on the company-wide broadcast. I announced, "Since some people believe I've insulted their dignity, you may submit your resignation immediately. However, you will no longer be entitled to the year-end bonus of 20 thousand dollars." Everyone gasped in disbelief. Ingrid turned completely pale, and some workers even rushed into my office impulsively. "Boss, this has nothing to do with me! I stand with the company!" After all, my company had increased salaries for 37 consecutive years and given an average raise of over 2,000 dollars each time. They wouldn't find a company like mine elsewhere.

[Is it wrong to fall in love with someone who already belongs to another?] One day, a post I stumbled upon caught my eye. The most liked comment was a brazen boast from a self-proclaimed mistress: [Dating isn't marriage. If you can steal the heart of someone taken, you deserve to keep it. If they don't love their partner enough to stay loyal, their partner is the real outsider in the relationship.] [I took my husband from another woman. He was just a broke college student back then, but I knew who he really was. He's the only son of the country's wealthiest man!] [His ex only knew how to study and work. She had no idea how to keep a man. How unfortunate! I heard she never even got her diploma. Her life must be miserable now.] I stared at the comment for a long time because I recognized the woman who wrote it. Her name was Camila. She was talking about me. Miserable? I was now a famous attorney, renowned for never having lost a case, and I had also adopted a sweet daughter. My life was anything but 'miserable'. I blocked the author of the comment and assumed our paths would never cross again. However, fate had other ideas. While taking my daughter for her passport application, I ran into some people from my past in the most dramatic way possible. Camila used her position to make things difficult for me. My ex-boyfriend Alexander stood by her side and even threatened me, phone in hand. "Apologize to my wife, or I'll have my father hire that so-called 'Victory Queen'. We'll sue you until you lose everything!" I smiled and said, "Go ahead and call that lawyer." The next second, my phone rang.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

I was three months pregnant when the car crash happened. In those final moments of fading consciousness, I frantically dialed Damian’s private, encrypted line—the one meant only for emergencies. He never picked up. By the time I was rushed into surgery, I received a crushing blow: Damian had forcibly reassigned my lead private physician to the South District. He needed the best doctor to treat his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn, who had just been widowed. When I finally drifted awake through a haze of agony, my trembling fingers swiped open Instagram. I saw Evelyn’s latest post: “I knew that no matter the distance or the time, Damian would move heaven and earth to reach me. He even brought his Chief Physician just to help me heal from my grief.” In the accompanying photo, Damian—a man known for his cold, lethal eyes—was gazing at the woman beside him with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. While I was clawing my way back from the brink of death, fighting to save our child, my husband was playing protector to another pregnant woman. A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Without a second thought, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I opened my inbox and hit "Confirm" on the invitation from the world’s most elite International Finance Institute. If Evelyn is all he cares about, I’ll give them my blessing. In seven days, I will vanish from his world forever—and I’m taking my baby with me.