Secrets Of The Past Novels & Stories

Okay, so maybe that drawer wasn’t going to hold any secrets she’d be interested in. “Third time is a charm,” Violet whispered and opened the last draw on the left side. “If I was an alcoholic,” she breathed when she saw all that it held was a large wide bottle of something no doubt alcoholic and a couple of glasses. “Damn it,” she said and turned to the right side and opened the first drawer. It was filled with blank paper and note pads. The second jerked with a loud knock as she tried to open it. Locked. Licking her lips, Violet once more glanced back to the door then down at the drawer. The keyhole was obvious. She wasn’t sure how she missed it.

The letter, a small white square, felt like a shard of ice in the warm, salty air. I read the words once, then again, watching the ink blur. "Last chance, Shadow. Meet me at Jurgina Bar. Second floor, Room 8. Midnight and come ALONE." My fingers clenched, crumpling the note until the paper groaned. A tremor ran from my hand up my arm, a cold current against the island's tropical heat. How had he found us? Eavon had promised this place was impenetrable, a fortress built of secrecy and trust. Yet, a ghost from our past had simply slipped a message under the door.

Then she left the room. I thought she’d be back soon. But time passed, and she didn’t return. I didn’t feel like calling her. I just stared at the box again. I wanted to open another letter, but I didn’t want to cry again. Not now. But curiosity got the best of me. I summoned courage and pulled out a letter dated before I was even born. Like, two weeks before. It was from Dad. He was talking about me. Saying he couldn’t wait to meet me. He called me “his baby girl.” Wrote out my whole name like it meant something. Said he already loved me so much.

He then grabbed a chair from beside me and put it in front of me before taking a seat on it so he was just facing me. "Listen up, darling, I've dealt with enough shit for the past years and I'm not in a mood to deal with more so spill the fucking beans already. Tell me where the hell he's hiding and I'll let you go." "Well, darling, I'd like to tell you if I knew who the fuck you're talking about. I've been alive for twenty years now and never have I ever heard of any Joseph or whatever." I replied honestly with a hint of annoyance in my voice. "Unless you're talking about Joseph Morgan. I tell you, that man is so—" he cut me off, "shut up."

It sounds like two hungry animals are fighting for dominance. Cautiously, I took two slow steps towards that noise and witnessed that Rakesh and Emiem were kissing, hungrily. I don't know whether to be happy nor sad. Why him? Of all people why him? How the hell he got that syringe? Not wanting to reveal myself there, I turned my back and headed back to my cabin. The only source I have with mine is "The Hidden Secrets" and I have read it many times but couldn't able to find any new things as some of the words on pages 14 and 15 were a blur as someone caused this purposely.

Books covered in dust, their pages yellowed. The floorboards creaked like they were crying over the atrocities they had witnessed, the dust settled on the white sheet covering the furniture. Long silver spider webs danced over chandeliers. The wind echoed up and down the hall as coldness touched every nook and cranny. The clocks stopped, the hands sitting at 3 am, the time stood still. Secrets remained undiscovered for years, the past hidden, long forgotten. That's the problem with the past...it always comes back to haunt us….

I turned it over. On the back was another engraving. Time remembers what people forget. Before anyone could comment— Click. A tiny compartment sprang open inside the watch. Monica gasped. “No way.” Hidden beneath the clockwork was an impossibly small brass key. Everyone stared. Alfred adjusted his glasses. “I’ve heard stories about this.” David looked toward him. “What stories?” “The founders divided every secret into pieces.” “The letters.” “The Archive.” “The key.” “They were never meant to be found separately.”

"And the Moonfall Kings hid their secrets here." I placed my thumb on the concealed scanner, and allowed a small wave of my Royal magic to flow through the wood. The bookshelf popped open to reveal a glowing blue computer terminal, pristine and connected to the continent's ancient computer mainframe. I settled in and started furiously typing on the ancient keyboard. I ignored the usual architectural records I had been using during the war and unlocked the secure, encrypted historical archives. "Search for 'The Veil'," I said, as lines of code scrolled down the screen in English. "Search for 'Crimson Court'."

“We’ve proven that change is possible. Now it’s time to ensure it’s sustainable.” --- The Unveiling of Secrets Later that day, as Ayesha organized files in the library, she stumbled upon an old, dusty journal tucked away behind the bookshelves. Curiosity piqued, she opened it and began to read. The journal belonged to Arman’s late father and detailed the struggles he had faced building the family business. But as Ayesha read further, she discovered cryptic entries hinting at long-buried secrets—deals made in desperation, alliances forged in the shadows.

Leonard must have figured me out by now. He knew I was the type who acted shy on the outside but had secret desires underneath. After a few moments of teasing, he pulled me into another round, and we kept going until we were both completely worn out. When I was ready to leave, he insisted that I did not put my underwear back on. He said he wanted to keep it as a souvenir. I did not want to, but I could not argue with him, so I just did what he said. My stockings were already torn, so I could not wear those either. I took them off and went home wearing only my skirt.