Shattered Rose: He Held On Tight Novels & Stories

Ethan As Nathaniel and Liam’s kiss ended, they leaned into each other, their foreheads touching, lost in the intimate silence of their love. The clearing was filled with the sounds of cheering, laughter, and celebration, but at that moment, it felt like time stood still for them. I moved forward, ready to embrace my best friend and share his joy, but the atmosphere suddenly shifted. A loud scream pierced the air, shattering the peaceful moment. I whipped around and saw Rose on her knees, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her face contorted in pain. Fear gripped me, my heart pounding as I sprinted toward her. By the time I reached her, she had collapsed, unconscious, her body limp in m

Her eyes—clear, warm, no longer clouded by sickness—found mine, and something inside my chest cracked wide open. I took a slow, careful step toward her, afraid that if I moved too fast she might vanish. Afraid this was another cruel trick of fate. Then my gaze dropped. And everything shattered. Rose. She was on the floor. Motionless. Still. Her body lay unnaturally quiet against the cold ground, her hair spread around her like spilled ink, her skin too pale, too drained. For one terrifying second, my heart forgot how to beat. The air punched out of my lungs, and a sharp ringing filled my ears.

Clenching her fists like a cheetah gone crazy, she smashed the window with one punch. Her knuckle was torn and dripping with blood. However, she did not feel the pain at all. She gripped onto the sharp glass shard tightly and ran toward the man. The glass cut through the clothes on the man’s chest as Rose glared at him fiercely. “Just let me take you to hell with me.” Pushing hard, the shard tore through the man’s clothes, revealing his chest. Rose’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re not Jay Ares?” At this moment, all her bravery dissipated.

Panic surged through Rose's veins, and instinctively, she tightened her grip, refusing to let go. "No, you don't understand!" Prisca's voice was a mixture of urgency and desperation as she grappled with Rose, their hands locked in a tense struggle over the journal. Rose's heart pounded wildly, and a surge of adrenaline coursed through her, giving her the strength to hold on.

I'm broken after finding out about Mason cheating and being marked by someone else. Wyatt had my hand in his, pulling me towards what i'm assuming is his room. His smell was so intoxicating, my mind wasn't even processing the fact that I would probably get my heart broken again. Once we reached his room, he closed and locked the door. He gentley put me up against the wall, his arms trapping me in.

fallen in too. "Vincent! Help us!" she thrashed, a perfect damsel in distress. Vincent and the others rushed to the deck. "Get them out of there!" he roared. He dove in, but he swam straight for Sophia. "Sophia! I've got you!" he yelled, pulling her into a tight embrace. "It's okay, I'm here!" I was less than thirty feet away, screaming his name. "Vincent! Help me!" He didn't even look back.

The rhythm built between us again, not rushed, just full of want, of knowing, of needing nothing more than this moment. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. I was gasping his name, over and over, my nails scratching lightly at his back, and he didn’t stop, he just kept holding me, rocking into me like this was the only thing keeping him alive. “I am so close,” I breathed, voice shaking. “Hold on,” he rasped, his voice tight. “Just a little longer…” But I couldn’t. My whole body tightened around him, and then I shattered silently, breathlessly falling into pieces right there in his arms.

“I’ll try. But right now… you’re toxic.” The call cut off. I sat frozen, the word toxic reverberating in my skull until it drowned out everything else. My pulse roared in my ears. My breaths came shallow. Everything I’d built, everything I’d bled for—gone, shattered like glass on pavement. With shaking hands, I tried to call Ethan. He'd know something. He'd know what to do, which string to pull, whom to call. But before I could shift the car into gear, a burst of headlights swerved across my windshield. Tires screamed. A black van cut and pinned me in.

"Where does it hurt, Ms. Shaw?" I pointed to my chest. "Carlo kicked me. I think he got me in the rib." Then I pointed to the back of my head. "Got hit on the stairs when I fell. I'm still dizzy, too." Carlo's expression got darker and darker after every word I said, while Don Vinnie's expression became colder. "Take Rosa away for a full checkup," he ordered. "And put it all on Carlo's personal account."

He said mysteriously, "The person who sent the flowers is waiting outside and asked to deliver them personally." Surprised and curious, I followed the staff toward the backstage exit. But the moment I stepped out, I completely froze. The person waiting for me was Evan. He stood by the door, holding the flowers. His eyes shifted nervously, like he wasn't sure whether to come closer. In my memory, Evan had always been confident and sharp. Now, he still looked polished—his suit was immaculate and his hair neatly styled—but a closer look showed how much he had changed. He'd lost a lot of weight, and his eyes were filled with exhaustion and loneliness.