Seven Year Itch Book Novels & Stories

"But your efficiency was pathetic. All those hitmen, and you couldn't even kill one pregnant woman." A man’s voice muttered a low defense. Evelyn let out a cold, sharp laugh. "No matter. I faked that illness perfectly. Even if Selena survived the crash, she’d never stay with the Morettis after seeing her husband prioritize another woman. No wife could stomach that." "I thought once she was gone, Damian would crawl back to me. Who knew the idiot would end up losing his inheritance over it?" Outside the door, Damian felt like he had been struck by lightning.

The driver commented casually, "This whole thing's been the talk of the town lately. The guy on the radio is the designated heir of the Corleone family. He was about to marry his fiancee, but he kept messing around with his mistress. In the end, he broke his fiancee's heart, and only now is he regretting it. "Men like him will never cherish what they have. It's only after they lose it that they start crying and claiming they're remorseful. His fiancee was right there, and he didn't know how to treat her right. What's the point of crying over spilled milk?" I nodded lightly, as if I were listening to a stranger's story. "Tell me about it." Unexpectedly, when I got out of the car, I ran right

"Why don't we play a game to take your mind off things for a bit?” The game they haven’t played in so long—seven minutes in heaven, is now the only bud of hope that could cradle both their anxiety and longing to feel each other close. A sin so sweet that not even Reigna herself could say no or worry about tomorrow. "Fine," she huffed, averting her gaze as she played with the hem of his shirt. "But we're sticking to the rules this time, Carlisle. Just seven minutes, no funny business." Ah. But that clearly is a form of denial, isn’t it?