Novel & Cerita Ride Or Die: The President’s Regret

Before authenticating that Brother Lionel was safe and sound, everything was possible, and anything could happen. She cried again and berated, "Brother Lionel, say something quickly. Stop scaring me already. I know you're fine. You promised me a lot of things and haven't fulfilled any of them yet. How can something happen to you?" At long last, someone spoke on the other end. It was a man's voice that Karen Joy often heard and sounded very familiar. "Miss Kyle, the President has been killed in the accident!" Dead silence. It grew quiet for a long time, so tranquil that Karen Joy thought the world had stopped. There was no noise at all that she felt she had entered another dimension.

I continue before I can be cut off, “yet no one has ever seen Ruby’s mother. No president in Lacertia’s history has hidden his wife from the public, so how are you any different from the so-called ‘immoral’ men you criticize? Are you ashamed of your wife?” The press scattered around are eating up my question, cameras swinging to take pictures of the woman daring enough to ask it, then back to capture the president’s reaction. He looks as arrogant and confident as always, and I know I’m the only who can see his mind churning. I did this for my job, for Henry’s campaign. But I’m sure from Aaron’s twisted perspective, he’s replaying my threat to his image if he didn’t stay away from me. And now

Tori’s voice was barely a whisper. “It was a mistake.” I exhaled heavily. “But you’re unhappy with your marriage.” “I’ve lived with that for the past three years, surely I can do that for a few more.” “Really? You’re going to do this?” “I ask again. How much to make you leave and keep quiet?” “I don’t want your goddamned money. You’re going to regret this.” She picked up her bag and walked out the door, slamming it behind her. I had to hold myself back from screaming my lungs out. Lately, I found myself doing things and regretting them immediately.

Said the President asked Paul who was holding himself with a gun. "Shut up! I warned you in a kind way. Yet you still insist on continuing this war." Paul said answering Mr. President. "Idiot, let me go! It's useless for you to do this because the HAARP mission is already underway." said Mr. The president threatens Paul. "It's really useless talking to someone like you! Because someone like you won't understand what it means to live a peaceful life." Said Paul who was disappointed with Mr. President. "Idiot, Quickly release me right now!" said Mr. The president and some of the presidential guards wanted to fight against Paul, but quickly Paul was able to kill them all by firing the bullets

“I know, Ariel. I know that I have hurt you and I know it's not easy for you to forgive me. I regret that night, every day and night. I cry in secret when I am alone, questioning everything. Why did I do this to you? Why did I ask you to abort our child? All this time I blamed myself for the miscarriage and the thing I regret the most is that I left you for a bitch like Fiona and married her. She was with me just for the money, I should have listened to my parents and your warnings. She was nothing more than a gold digger and a year ago she came to the house with a guy in her arms and demanded a divorce, claiming that she never loved me, she loved my money. I gave her the divorce and she t

“No, Alison, I’m not going back there. And why do you have a file already prepared for this? You know I would never consent to it, even if they are paying me a hundred times my rate.” “Meadow, I’m not saying you are wrong for not wanting to go back to the L.A. I know you have a lot of bad memories there. But what about the innocent patient that’s about to die if you don’t perform his surgery? Have you forgotten the oath you took to save lives? You are not going back for those people that offended you, you are going back to save the life of a patient.” “And I’m doing exactly that—I'm saving lives here too. And besides, my schedule is filled.”

“We will. But vengeance isn’t a race. It’s a strategy.” Before I could respond, the broadcast shifted. The presenter’s voice transitioned from measured seriousness to an almost gleeful tone. The screen filled with grainy photos of celebrities caught in compromising or absurd situations. Scandals, breakups, and poorly timed wardrobe malfunctions—they dragged Rivermont’s elite through the mud for entertainment. At first, we let it play in the background. I was grateful for the distraction from the weight of Alistair’s crimes, my father’s death, and Emerson’s vengeance.

I wanted to ask him to stop Cameron from hurting himself. On the other end of the line, Jack sounded overjoyed, but his voice was wrapped in deep exhaustion. “Laura, I’m so happy... You actually—” Before he could finish, I heard a loud thud. “Something’s wrong! Mr. Spencer just fainted!” Hearing the chaos on the other end, I silently hung up the phone. But in the very next second, a trending topic popped up on the news. The ever-pragmatic Mr. Spencer, who never believed in gods or spirits, had knelt and bowed every few steps through the pouring rain, making his way toward a famous shrine, wishing only for one life in exchange for another.

When he heard Eric's comment, he could not help but interrupt, "How is that considered close in age, Mr. Chilton? You shouldn't lie to yourself." Eric glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the driver laughing happily. He felt slightly exasperated. "Don't do this to me, Lowry." "Fine, fine. I'll stop talking. Please continue!" Eric finally looked away from Lowry and continued where he left off. "Even though we’ve never really crossed paths, we ended up being husband and wife. You don't need to be afraid of me. Just talk to me like we're a normal couple. I'll listen to everything my wife has to say and be a good and responsible husband."

Letting myself feel the weight of it, the injustice, the cruelty, the fear that I might never hold my son again. Then something shifted. The despair didn't disappear. But beneath it, something else rose. Something harder. Something that had been buried for five years under layers of compliance and submission. Rage. Clean, cold, righteous rage. Damian thought he could take my son. Thought he could paint me as unstable, as unfit, as the villain in his story. He was wrong. I pulled out my laptop. Opened my Phantom systems. Started gathering evidence. Bank statements proving my financial stability. Nearly five million dollars he knew nothing about.