Novel & Cerita Six Degrees Of Separation By The Script

After more than ten hours in the air, I finally set foot in Iceland. The wind in Reykjavik was biting against my face, carrying a hint of ocean brine. Somehow, the crushing weight in my chest was lifted. The moment I arrived at the base and connected to the satellite network, my phone buzzed frantically. I was bombarded with messages from Lorenzo. “Naomi, please pick up the phone. I know I messed up.” “I have cut ties with Gianna. I won’t do her any more favors.”

RAMON 60 Days. 60 Days To make her fall Inlove. To marry her. And then finally, To kill her. The boss assigned me to her. She was my fifth assignment. And then I met her, and she was so fucking beautiful. So fucking perfect. Her dark eyes, her massive dark hair, her curves, her flawless skin... And I was supposed to kill her? I knew this was going to be hard. But what I didn't know, is how hard I would fall for her as each day passed.

"Next up is Daniel and his group." Miss Close announced. Everyone had to do a presentation on Cold War. Unlike Daniel, Jenna worked independently even though she was supposed to be in his group but later she found out that working independently gave more marks. She idiotically left them last minute and rushed all the work for her presentation. She felt so dumb for not choosing to be in a group after seeing that everyone was in a group, except for her.

"So here's how this is going to work. You have sixty days. Sixty days to fall in love with me, to accept your role as my wife, and to give me an heir." I opened my mouth, but he continued before I could form words. "Or I take what I want anyway. Your choice." Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click that somehow sounded louder than if he'd slammed it. I sank down onto the floor among the scattered cosmetics and broken glass, my white dress pooling around me, and for the first time since my parents died, I let myself cry. Not the quiet tears I'd shed at their funeral while cameras flashed. These were ugly, desperate sobs that shook my entire body.

Later, I slowly tore the silver feathered wedding gown I'd worn 66 times into shreds, ripping up the remnants of dignity holding this relationship together. I'd loved Arnold for six years, and it was high time this was put to an end.