Shattered Cold Case Novels & Stories

"I'm sorry Charity, I won't be going to the victim's home today. Something came up. We'll go some other time" I think the phrase, shattering of heart is a bit too underrated and considered too literal, used in literary works and in certain kind of situations to prove how pleasant our grasp of good grammar is cause I can testify that my heart practically broke into a million pieces that all the glue in the world wouldn’t even dare put together if they tried as I read through Detective Roman's message that morning.

The crowd began to murmur, a low, chaotic sound that filled the room. "She speaks of children and joy," I said, looking back at the cameras. "But what she did was ensure my home was shattered. She led me down a road where I was broken. She led me to a place where I was... tempted." I looked at Steve as I said the word. He didn't move, but a slow, dark smile spread across his face. "So yes, she survived," I finished. "But the truth is finally breathing, too."

“Younger. Still blames me for ruining her life too. She lost all her money and had to manage that little motel for a living.” “But it wasn’t your fault. You were following orders.” He shrugged. “Yeah, but she doesn't believe that.” I nodded, understanding her need for revenge. I thought about what that shadow man said outside the motel. He mentioned Nathan killing kids. Maybe this was a part of it. I really wanted to ask, but how do you just ask someone if they killed children on purpose or not? “Yes.” -

Like it still hoped for something whole with him. But then reality clawed its way back in. That sentence didn’t change anything. Not the betrayal. Not the pain. Not the image of my ex-best friend’s eyes avoiding mine after she did what she did. Not the emptiness I felt every night when I realised trust, once shattered, never fits back quite the same. Again. I heard the front door open and close. I freezed. Today was Thursday and nobody except me, Analeigh and Ana was here except... Evan walked into the living room. His suit was all... wrong and his hair and...

He sank onto the floor, staring at the broken chair pieces. “Fuck!” he muttered under his breath. Every piece of wood on the ground reminded him of how his trust had been shattered. In that moment, he felt as if his whole life was splintered like the chair. Outside, the sound of a car approaching made him sit up. He went to the window and pulled the curtain aside just a little, careful not to be seen. In the parking lot, he could make out Dante’s figure alongside two others. Rico, who always tried to be strong, looked barely able to stand, while Gio and Leo carried their own marks of injury. Their faces were tired and pained.

Adyant had dropped the call and with that Veda was again left alone in the world of colors and darkness. Veda stood frozen, her phone still pressed to her ear. The woman's voice haunted her. "Adyant, baby...". Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. The echoes of her broken heart lingered in the darkest of the night as moon faded away in the veil of clouds, leaving only whispers of ruin and a tale of shattered heart behind. She felt cheap. Used. A mere convenience for Adyant. The art studio, once her sanctuary, now seemed suffocating and dark.

Another door slamming shut. The moment the call ended, I hurled the phone across the room. It struck the wall. Plastic shattered. Glass exploded. The screen cracked beyond repair. I stared at it. Breathing hard. Then slowly sank onto the couch. Because for the first time— I understood. Hart was arrested. Dr. Ramon was cooperating. Lucian survived. Claire was leading the prosecution. Margot Sinclair was involved. Nathaniel Vale was involved. The police were involved. Everyone was closing in.

“Don’t take this personal Jack, you are the best in anything and that is why they are assigning you for better cases worth your time, trust me.” “I don’t want better cases I want to finish what I started.” “It has been decided jack, and you should accept it.” Quinn insists. “What if don’t?” “Where is Mark?” Quinn interrupts. “Doing his job.” Orlando frowned at Quinn not liking his attitude towards him. “Well, you have to drop the case because it has been dropped on your behalf.” Orlando opens his mouth to speak but Quinn quickly beats him to it. “An unsolved case that happened five years ago is still on and needs to be closed. The victim Valentino Zachary was murdered in an alley by an unkno

Shattered Mate Bond The Obsession Grace's POV I'd been staring at the intelligence maps for six hours straight, my eyes burning from exhaustion and the blue light of the computer screens that covered every surface of the makeshift war room we'd set up in the Storm pack house. Financial transactions, communications intercepts, witness statements from captured rogues—I'd analyzed every piece of data we'd recovered from the mining complex at least three times, looking for patterns that would reveal where Amber had gone to ground.

Which told her something about the kind of person she was dealing with. She tore it open at the kitchen table. Inside was a single folded sheet of paper. She read it twice. Officer James Walter. Fifteen years on the force. Former homicide detective reassigned to a cold case and missing persons unit three years ago following the wrongful conviction scandal that had briefly rocked the department. His name had been cleared. His record was good. He had since closed twelve cases that had been open for years — cold cases that other detectives had filed and forgotten. He had a reputation for never letting go.