Sabotage Book Shantel Tessier Novels & Stories

“Look at her, Finn. She’s shaking. Can you see it? The fear? The baby… she’s worried about the baby.” Finn leaned down to my level, whispering directly into my ear. “Yes, the baby. That’s what makes this perfect. That’s what makes it real. You’re not just scared for yourself. You’re scared for the little one too. And I love seeing that.” I felt my stomach twist. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t even scream loud enough to be heard. “You wanted answers?” Finn said. “Here they are. We sabotaged the company. We manipulated the people around Tristan. We used Brianne. We lied. We planned. And now… you see the results. All of it. And you can do nothing about it.”

"But I survived. I fought back. I exposed Shaw." "You did. You were much more resilient than anticipated. Shaw underestimated you. Brock underestimated you. Even I underestimated you." She walked closer. "You survived things you weren't supposed to survive. You turned enemies into allies. You got the FBI involved. You found Brock's insurance evidence. You've been remarkably troublesome, Bethany. Impressively so." "Good. I hope I've ruined everything you built."

“At least… not yet.” “No..!” I jerked against their hold, but it was useless. One of the men grabbed my arm, holding it out firmly. I thrashed. Screamed. Even begged. But the needle was already there. And seconds later.. a sharp pain tore through me.. The liquid burned as it pushed into my veins. Vivianne smiled like she had just won a lottery ticket. The men released me and for a split second, hope flared. This was my chance. I pushed up.. but my body failed me.

My mind had completely misunderstood her intentions twice over, treating her like a cheap corporate spy. But what about the thick smoke bomb detonated in the basement corridors? Who was the elusive, highly skilled hero who slipped her past my guards? What about the massive, targeted business sabotage that stripped my trading house of those prime northern deals? Who cracked my secure cyber mainframe and left that mocking electronic warning not to bully the little lady? Could it be that someone else entirely, and not Sandra Ashbourne, was the true target of that warning message?

"Don't thank me yet. This is going to get ugly, Anthony. When Mirabel finds out what we're doing, she's going to fight back. She's going to try to discredit us, to paint us as bitter exes trying to ruin her life." "Let her try." "I'm serious. She has money. She has connections. And she has a family she's trying to protect. She won't go down without a fight." "Neither will I." She stood and walked over to a bookshelf. She pulled down a small wooden box and brought it back to the couch. "There's something else I need to show you." She opened the box and pulled out a stack of letters. "Mirabel sent these to me over the past two years. After she confessed, she kept writing. Apologizing. Begging

"When I found out. I was hurt. Angry. I left." "But you came back." "Yes. Because she chose me. Deleted the manuscript. Returned the money. Proved. That I mattered more than profit. More than her career. More than anything." "Dr. Santos, why did you write the book?" Deep breath. "Fear. Self-sabotage. I. I was falling in love. And I didn't know how to. How to handle it. So I. I tried to control it. Contain it. Make it. Professional. Safe. It was a mistake. A terrible mistake. But when confronted. I chose him. Chose us."

Someone who could walk in and out without being seen. Red lines snaked across the pages of my notebook, connecting misfiled documents to financial discrepancies to suspicious access. I circled names, narrowed possibilities, and drafted a strategy to uncover the saboteur without tipping them off. Each note, each calculation, was deliberate—a step toward reclaiming control.

Like roses and old blood and something trying desperately to remember sunlight. She’ll help, my wolf said quietly. If she lives long enough. A sharp pang went through me again, sudden and inexplicable. I rubbed my chest. “Problem?” Alexander asked. “No,” I lied. “Continue.” Plans unfolded and refolded over the next hour. We sorted operations into tiers: sabotage, exposure, rescues, direct strikes. Sabotage: Hit their supply lines. Corrupt their shipments. Convince middlemen their warehouses were haunted or cursed, anything to get them to stop renting to Cross.

I shook my head. “She is awaiting approval. She must leave too. We must get started right away if we want to shake Selene from the inside out.” After inhaling deeply I tapped a message to Lena. “Create doubt first, quiet. Nothing particularly clear. Just enough to cause Selene to doubt her social circle.” I turned to look at Seth. “We begin quietly, sabotaging at the whisper level. A single rumor. One crack. After that we push forward.” Seth gave a nod. *She will begin micromanaging if she begins to doubt her people. She will slow down. And her people will become irritated. “

I had love, I had a family, and I had a career, but I couldn't hold on to any of them. It was time to wake up from my delusions and face reality. … After the surgery to piece my hand back together, I was wheeled out of the operating theater. We happened to pass by Nicholas and Evelyn, who were at the hospital for a prenatal check-up. Evelyn leaned into Nicholas' arms happily and chuckled coldly while looking at me. "You're just a disabled person, and you're still trying to extort money from Nick? In your dreams!" Nicholas only glared at me coldly.