Shattered Movie Novels & Stories

Watch me break. Until there was nothing left but ash.

He was with me every step of the way, never giving up on me You know that kind of healthy love that you get to see in movies , that was the kind I got to experience with him From dates, to gifts to countless kind gestures Every good thing that I never got , he did so and went beyond And yet he never wanted anything in return except for me At first I was cautious, and very sceptical, but the moment that I let him in, I never regretted it After it all , the Strom's and the freaking tsunamis and hurricanes, I finally got to see the rainbows and experience the warmth of the sun in my life I am happy Who knew that all it would take to Unshatter Me was simply the purest form of love from a single

Her tears were flowing freely as she saw the blood gushing out of her husband's mouth and down to his rope. She was covered in sweat as much as Lukas who was being tortured. His eyes were popping out red and Fred Wilson was laughing and mocking him and asking him why his eyes were like someone who is about to be slaughtered. In no time, his teeth were removed and he was released and he fell to the floor like a bag of grain. His hands were still chained backwards and he couldn't even move his body. He has lost his ability to scream so loud, he was only sniffling and the blood kept flowing out of his mouth.

In that pitch-blackness, with only the faint, lingering scent of cologne in the air, I finally let myself give in. I wept. I wept until my chest felt tight. I wept until my tears blurred everything around me. I wept until the sound of my own cries was the only thing I could hear. And in that never-ending, suffocating solitude, I drifted into a restless, fragmented sleep, knowing that when morning came, the world would wake up to my shame, and there would be no one to save me.

How jinxed could I possibly be. I reach underneath me and take off the heels and throw it to the corner, my legs feel like Jell-O. I stagger to my front and pick up a sandal. I sit on a chair by a makeup table and begin to remove the makeup off my face with a wipe. The girl staring back at me in the mirror looks so beaten and emotionally broken, I feel like a shadow of myself. When will it stop, when would all the misery end. I wish I could go back a month, when my life was still good, when I had not heard about the death of my brother or when I had not met Thelma.

The same way morning sunlight streamed in through the trees, all broken and golden and almost pretty enough to hide the sharp edges underneath. Almost. “Where is he?” I asked. Marcus said, “At the packhouse. He moved back in once things got bad enough for the medics to need him close.” A pause. “He stopped shifting six weeks ago. His wolf can’t keep up with it anymore.” Those words landed heavy. I knew what it meant up close—bond deterioration so advanced that the wolf side starts slipping away. First shifting hurts. Then it’s nearly impossible. Then it’s gone entirely. There’s nothing fair about it.

“No movement outside.” I hovered over the keyboard, my finger shaking above the button. Twenty seconds. Then— The lights flickered. The walls trembled. A single *bang* echoed through the night. And the door exploded inward. --- Gunfire erupted. I hit the ground as bullets tore through the motel. Damien’s men. They had found us. Carter fired back, but he was weak. Michael grabbed him, shoving him behind cover. “Winnie, hit the damn button!” I crawled toward the laptop, heart pounding.

Across the room, by the north wall, a man in a black tuxedo turned his head. Damien. He saw her. He dropped his glass. It shattered on the marble. A thousand small shards scattered across the floor around his feet and he did not move. He did not even look down. He just stared at her as if he had forgotten how to do anything else. She crossed the room. People parted for her. Not because she was famous tonight. Because something was happening, and everyone in the room could feel it. She stopped two feet from him. "Damien."

he called out. Vanessa had just ended her call when she heard the voice. Turning around, her eyes met the gaze of her treacherous husband, Lucas, the man who had shattered her soul and broken her heart to pieces three years ago. Hatred coursed through her veins, but she maintained a calm and nonchalant expression "V... Vanessa?" Lucas stuttered, unsure if he was dreaming. The woman before him couldn't possibly be Vanessa. That timid, pathetic woman he once knew could never transform into this stunning beauty.

Chapter 97 – The Book She Wrote The house was quiet again, but this time it was the kind of quiet that hummed with purpose. The kind of quiet that filled the room with possibilities rather than emptiness. I sat at my desk, pen in hand, notebook open, staring at the blank page for a long time before writing the first words. “Shattered Vows,” I whispered to myself. The title alone made my chest tighten, a reminder of everything I had lived through—the love, the lies, the heartbreak, the forgiveness, and the slow, painstaking rebuilding of myself.