Seven Days Until Novels & Stories

“He will be away for one week.” One week. The words didn’t register immediately. They hovered somewhere in the air between us, meaningless for a second… before they dropped. It was heavy. Seven more days. My mind repeated it slowly, like it needed time to understand. “…seven days?” I echoed. “Yes, sir.” She confirmed. Tomorrow… the contract ends tomorrow. My throat felt dry. “…does he know?” I asked before I could stop myself. The maid looked up briefly, confused. “…sir?”

Now that they had made it into the finals, it was entirely because I was carrying them single-handedly. Rowan, Rhea, and the rest never thought the team I led would be the one standing across from them in the finals. A sense of crisis crept over Rowan. He knew my ability as a jungler. With only a week left before the match, a batch of negative rumors about me suddenly exploded online. A heavily edited video was widely reposted by marketing accounts across all platforms, titled: Nina Vale’s Ultimate Simp.

Only then did he see clearly that the figure on stage wasn't Anna at all. "Anna, Clara, where did you go?" Security hauled Micah out of the concert hall while he unconsciously called out our names. But it was far too late now. We'd long since built better lives. … Seven years later, cold moonlight flooded the streets of Lurich on a winter night. Micah stood outside the glass window of my piano studio, watching me guide a student's fingering under the warm yellow lights. I'd pulled my long hair into a loose bun and was gently rocking an autistic boy's hand over the piano keys.

Just the most powerful force in the universe. Seven days. We can survive seven days. We can survive anything. As long as we're together.

A final obsession she couldn’t let go of before she died. But to me? It was nothing but a contract that should’ve ended a long time ago. And now, the seven years were up. Looking around, I realized— there was nothing here worth staying for anymore.

Seven days until the ritual. Seven days to become strong enough to burn out three centuries of darkness. Seven days to prove the prophecy wrong—or fulfill it in ways no one expected. The mountain waited, patient as death, while we rode toward our fate.

The sound of footsteps and clattering dishes drifted up from downstairs. Seven was already dressed, folding shirts into his suitcase. He looked back and caught me watching. “Morning, baby. Come on, quick shower—we’re leaving in thirty minutes.” I stretched, then dragged myself up. We packed together in silence, our movements efficient, practiced. Within an hour the room looked empty, as if we’d never been there at all. Downstairs, his family was waiting. There were hugs, prayers, and reminders. His mother’s voice was calm but firm: “Next weekend, Seven. Don’t forget to see her father.”

“You sure about this?” “No,” I said. “But we've been planning this for years, we have to be.” He didn’t argue. He just tapped a few buttons on the control panel. And I could already feel a shift. Somewhere, probably in a skyscraper suite, Kai Deveraux’s world was about to turn messy. I exhaled, sharp and slow. Seven days. Seven days to bring down two empires. Seven days to prove I wasn’t afraid to stand alone. Or fight dirty.

The countdown had begun. Across La Rivera, everything seemed to pulse with a quiet, excited urgency. Each sunrise felt like a page being torn from a calendar, bringing Elena and Harry closer to the day everyone had been waiting for. The wedding was no longer an idea, no longer a promise whispered between them in vulnerable moments. It was now a date circled in bold on every planner, etched into the hearts of everyone who believed in their story. Seven days. That was all that remained.

Seven days is not a long time. It is, in fact, an extremely specific amount of time in which a person can: - Transfer their entire physical therapy care to a clinic in a different neighbourhood - Tell only one person (Sophie), the real reason - Have seven entire Sophie phone calls about it - Delete the text thread with -A and then restore it - Restore the thread, screenshot it, save the screenshot in a folder labelled DO NOT OPEN AGAIN, and then open the folder eleven times