Smallest Detail

I had been with Lars Carter for six years. The head of Midas Capital in Eastwind City, he was a rising star in Riverton's Silver Street—the heart of this nation's financial world. Few knew his true roots. Within him flowed the Vitalus bloodline. Lars descended from an old mafia clan from the city of Virgil in Vitalus, the Viktors. Midas Capital was ours. We built it from the ground up together; Lars would haunt private clubs, ironing out business deals amid drinks. I would stay by his side, doing the accounts, steering the direction of the negotiations, and memorizing every detail of the high-stakes contracts. We did everything together—a tight team. Or so I thought. In my naivete, I was convinced I would rule the city alongside him. The woman behind the man, so to speak. …Until Pearl Ross arrived two months ago. His childhood sweetheart moved from Virgil to Eastwind City. It was then that I knew—she was the one he was waiting for all along. It had always been her. "Lars, I want to get married." Lars' face tightened; hesitation veiled in businesslike concern. "Bianca, you know the company's at a critical stage… We're mid-fundraising. I can't right now." I smiled, calm and composed. "That's fine." He misunderstood. I was getting married—just not to him.

On the day of my wedding, my fiance, Oliver Parker, asks me to take off my wedding gown. He wants to let his childhood friend, Angela Summers, be the bride instead. In helplessness, he tries to explain, "Angela has leukemia. Her dying wish is to be a bride and have a wedding. Once I've fulfilled her wish, I'll marry you." Everyone seems to think I'll just go along with it and wait for him to come back and marry me. After all, I've spent three years preparing for this wedding. I've poured my heart into every detail and devoted so much time to making it perfect. However, while Oliver and Angela celebrate their wedding that night, I gave my biological parents a call to tell them I'm coming to be with them. I board a red-eye flight out of Stonevale, leaving everything behind without looking back. … Three years later, I flew back to Stonevale with my husband, Daniel Holden, to attend the anniversary celebration of the Holden Group's Stonevale branch. However, I never expected to run into Oliver at the airport. "You've been gone for three years. Isn't that enough time to let things go? Angela's leukemia is cured, and we're divorced now. Come back to me. Let's finally have our wedding. Don't be so stubborn anymore!"

My son was kidnapped by rogue wolves during training. Ethan used all his connections as Beta to finally locate him in an abandoned hunting lodge. When I burst through the door, Tyler was already lying on the ground. His chest was a bloody mess, his heart ripped out completely. I chased after the rogue wolves like a mad she-wolf, desperate to retrieve his heart, but I was too late. Unable to bear the devastation, I collapsed and fell from the cliff edge. Ethan carried me to the pack healer's den, his face deathly pale. Before the healing ritual began, he gripped my hand tightly, his voice trembling: "Serena, you can't give up. Our son is already gone. I can't lose you too..." But when I regained consciousness, I found an anonymous text message on my phone. I opened it and heard a recording. "Beta Gray, you have already found another heart donors. Why specifically choose young Tyler? He's so young, and he's your son..." "He was just a tool to save Lucas. I raised him all these years—taking one heart isn't too much to ask, is it?" "Besides, the pack healer said a blood relative's heart has the smallest chance of rejection. Lucas is mine and Vivian's life. I can't bear to see him suffer even a little." My entire body shook violently. I could barely hold the phone. The man who repeatedly claimed to love me was the murderer who killed my son for his illegitimate child with his mistress. The marriage I thought was happy was nothing but an elaborate deception.

I’d just wrapped up a short trip with my daughter, Elara. On the way back, I figured I’d swing by the Hale, our family’s casino, to check in on my son, Cassian. Maybe grab dinner together. I didn’t expect to be mistaken for his latest fling. Correction: not mistaken—accused. Violently. “You think you can just waltz in here like some queen?” she hissed. “I’m the woman Cassian loves! What kind of whore are you? And is this your bastard daughter with him?” She locked us in the basement. No phone. No light. Just concrete walls and the stench of mildew and madness. Then came the fists. She slapped me across the face—again and again—until my skin stung and my ears rang. When that didn’t satisfy her, she pulled a gun and aimed low. The bullet tore through my knee. I bit back a scream, shielding Elara with my body. “You need to die, whore,” she spat. One of her men hesitated, “We should at least tell Mr. Hale first. If we are going to kill these two in his casino.” Lila of course said no. But that man brought Cassian anyway. My son stepped into this dark little room like it was any other Tuesday—until he saw me. His whole body went still. The blood drained from his face. And then, in the smallest, most broken voice I’d ever heard from him, he whispered, “Mom? What are you doing in my basement?”

Would you fall in love with someone whose face you've never seen? Why does she captivate him so completely, even though all he has glimpsed are her eyes, peering through the veil’s delicate fabric? What secrets lie beneath? What past does she hide? Every detail about this woman is wrapped in mystery—unspoken truths, carefully guarded omissions, and a silence that speaks louder than words. A veil. A past. Secrets. A love that defies the odds. Are you ready to unravel the mystery behind the veil?

Rose Evans. A girl with big dreams and goals, that she planned to see trough. Everything was planned in detail and it all started with finishing school and going to college. With her plans in mind and her dreams written down in a colorful schemed notebook, she never planned to have it all ripped away from beneath her feet. Her mother passed abruptly after a long fight with dancer, and the seventeen year old girl was left to fend for herself. Tyler Chaps. The multi-bilionare, owner of several cooperations with both feet in the most succesfull real-estate market affairs. The 28 year old was the hottest bachelor on the market, with a plan to never settle down. Rose found comfort in a man who helped her get a job. A job that entailed stealing and flirting her way to peoples possessions. What happens when the young girls slick hands, grip the wrong wrist? What happens when a ruthless, cold-hearted billionaire CEO catches the pickpocket thief and employs her for a job of his own? When a strong minded, business oriented woman, is paired with a soulless, dominant CEO, hearts are bound to come undone.

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.

This is thriller where the killer murders with put leaving a detail and you wont ever feel bored i guess all of you guys will enjoy reading this

Maude Ellington's fiance sends a message to his first love before their wedding. "You've always been the one I wanted to marry." With their wedding fast approaching, Maude watches him meticulously plan every detail with his first love in mind. She quietly lets it all go. Because she no longer wants the wedding. And she no longer wants him.

I set fire to my painting in front of the entire academy. Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd as everyone thinks it's some kind of performance art. Unlike them, Willow Laurent is distraught. She rushes up and grabs my hand, questioning in a shrill voice, "Cassidy Seymour, have you gone mad? This is your only chance to prove yourself!" I shake her hand off me coldly. My only chance? No… What she means is that it's her chance. In my past life, I created this masterpiece with all my heart and soul. But she stole it from me and submitted it as her entry first. Whether it was the composition, the colors, or even my original dot-stippling technique… She replicated every detail flawlessly. Then, she won the National Young Artists Gold Award, signed with a top gallery, and became a rising star. And what about me? I was condemned as a shameless plagiarist. Insults and curses gradually drowned me. "You shouldn't be an artist!" "Plagiarists are scum! They should just die!" Her fans stormed into my studio, smashed my art supplies, and broke my right hand. As I saw no end to the hell that I was living in, I jumped down from the top floor of my studio. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the very day she first accuses me of plagiarism.