Sevens Wiki Novels & Stories

But my major interest was to get my double reward and maybe more as he said. The song bled into another, slower, filthier. I turned, hair swinging across my bare shoulders, and there it was—the circle he’d described. Seven men in the VIP pit, leather banquettes curved like a throne. No ropes, just an invisible wall of money. I recognized two faces from the kind of magazines that never made it to the stores I know. Silver at the temples, cufflinks catching the strobes, laughing low and careless. One of them lifted a glass in my direction, lazy approval. My pulse kicked.

Could a second person be producing seven Divine Veins? The elites back at the Dark Divine Holy Land, who had exclusive Divine Veins, could only produce a maximum of six on their first attempt. If Norm produced seven, he would be the most talented person to appear since the establishment of the Dark Divine Holy Land. "Seven!" Eva's voice was heard announcing. Her voice faltered at the last count. Lawrence was not surprised. She must have been shocked. He should be the one to witness the birth of a legend! Lawrence felt a little annoyed about this. He should have stayed where he was if he had known this was happening.

"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?

The night they arrived, he even posted something online to make it clear he thought I was copying him. In our seventh year, the gift was the divorce agreement. Seven years, and looking back, the distance between us had grown the entire time without me noticing. Two notifications came through on my phone. One was from Vera that read, “Sean, nine tomorrow morning. Do not forget.” The other was from Austin. “Last night of our seven-day romance. Vera says she wants to make it a night to remember.” My eyes stayed on the paintings for one last moment before I switched off the screen.

He did not trust me after seven years together. The clock on the wall struck three. It was the last day of my bet with Bailey. It was also the date that Jeremy had planned to propose to me.

"So you married someone else? Quinn, what did those seven years apart even mean?" Quinn looked at me, her expression settling back into calm. "Conrad… You must understand I'm the heir to the Summers family. I have my own duties. Hector and I are on the same level, and our marriage benefits both families. Hector said that as long as you behave, he can turn a blind eye and let you stay by my side.

"You all don't know this, but for seven years, she's clung to Dante as a maid, constantly trying to seduce him, delusional enough to think she could become the Donna!" "Being an orphan is one thing, but to have such a vicious heart, stealing and seducing. Shameless." The murmurs rose and fell as guests looked at me with increasing scorn. The live stream chat was flooded with insults. These people wanted nothing more than to reach through the screen and tear me apart. Dante stood to the side, his brow furrowed tighter, inexplicably irritated. He looked at my pale but defiant face and felt his throat tighten with an unwanted flicker of sympathy.

He had lowered himself completely. "Don't be angry, all right, Ava?" Like a magic trick he produced a small bullet casing and waved it in front of me. "I chased you for seven whole years. When you agreed to be mine you gave me seven casings. You said if I ever made you angry, I'd get seven chances to make it right." He buried his face in my neck. "You know I was out of my mind happy that day. Take the casing. Don't be angry anymore."

That shouldn’t be how things work. “How about our dear Cynthia?” I wondered about another friend since college in the UK. Cynthia is the daughter of a conglomerate mogul in Korea. I believe their business is called a chaebol. With her father's money, she doesn’t have to work for several lifetimes. Her family doesn’t expect her to take over the business anytime soon. She just lives in a giant penthouse in Hyde Park and is the star in all social scenes. “Look on the stage, and you shall see, darling.”

The guard studied me for a long moment. Then he reached for his radio. I stood at those gates and I did not fidget and I did not look away and my wolf stood straight inside me for the first time in seven years. The radio crackled. The guard looked up. Alpha Rhys says to bring her in, he said. He did not sound surprised. And that was the part that should have reassured me. It did not.