Speak The Truth Bl Novels & Stories

He was seated at the center there and there fixing his hair as he leans back on his chair. "Miss Kenba is this really your real name?" What? Am l caught red-handed or they are just testing me. There is no way that they know who l am. "That Nagara bastard could not keep the dog on the leash." I hear Shiba talking. Shoot. They know him. It was fast as the Anata guy moved as fast as lighting pinning me to the wall. "You thought we were stupid hah...." he spat as he got uncomfortably close to me. Opening his eyes so wide that a fly would fit in.

"You're really funny, Kevin. You're truly a perfect cemetery sales advisor with lines like that—even I was moved by such a romantic pitch." I paused, looking up at him, and said, "Actually, I don't want to rest. I prefer to have a next life."

We've done this a few too many times and I know where this is heading so I say. "Truth." "When are you planning to tell me that Brandon attacked you?" ****

"Please give me permission to speak my truth, or I shan't." "Take it. You have my order to relay the truth and the truth only to me. I will not entertain any lies. You know that." His nervous gulp is audible to any listening ear. "Y-yes. Of course, I do, Alpha." "Well then, spit it out!"

“They say you have the footage. Nobody knows who leaked it, but many already do.” I wasn’t surprised. The council members had all seen the videos. Someone would talk. I didn’t need to know who. It was enough that the information was out. In my last life, I screamed until my throat bled and nobody listened. This time, they believed what they saw. The truth didn’t need shouting; it needed an opportunity to be seen. I closed the book and set it aside. “Leo.” “Yeah?” “Thank you.” He glanced at me but said nothing, stood, and turned off the living room lights. Footsteps faded down the hallway. The door to his room clicked shut.

"But even if it doesn't, even if the reaction is mostly negative, at least we'll have told our truth. At least we won't be hiding anymore." By the time she leaves on the second evening, I'm exhausted in a way that goes beyond physical tiredness. My throat is raw from talking and my emotions feel scraped clean, but I'm also lighter. We've told our truth. Not the partial truth of careful omissions, but the whole truth, messy and complicated and human. "Whatever happens now," Damon says quietly, "at least it's our story. Told in our words." "The rest is out of our hands," Mike adds.

This was our chance to set things right and reveal the truth that had been buried for so long. I took a deep breath and squeezed her hand gently before we stepped forward together. I cleared my throat and held the microphone with a slightly trembling hand. This was a moment of truth, and I had to face it head-on. "Ladies and gentlemen,” I began, my voice cutting through the noise. The crowd hushed, eager for what I had to say. I took a steady breath and glanced at Valeria before turning my gaze back to the press. “There’s a lot that needs to be cleared up. For too long, lies have been told, truths twisted, and the real story buried. Today, that ends.”

The real war, the fight for the very fabric of reality itself, is only just beginning. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the storm to come. "It's time," I say, my voice carrying the weight of countless secrets. "Time for you both to know the truth. About who we are, about the power we wield, and about the price we must pay to save everything we hold dear."

“Yeah. If they want a story, let’s give them the truth.” A week later, Sophie sat on the set of a popular talk show, her heart pounding as the cameras rolled. The host, a polished woman with an easy smile, leaned forward. “So, Sophie,” she said, eyes twinkling, “I think the question on everyone’s mind is—what’s the real story between you and Jake Carter?” Sophie took a deep breath, willing herself to stay steady. This was the moment. The chance to stop running. She smiled, slow and deliberate. “The truth is… it’s not just a story. It’s real.”

Then finally spoke. Low. Rough. Certain. “She’s telling the truth.”