Squidward Sitting Novels & Stories

My fiancé, Luca, dragged me along to a party with his crew. We had barely walked through the door before his boys were hounding him to play "Seven Minutes in Heaven." "Angelina, babe, come join us!" Fiona, Luca’s "best friend" from back home, called out to me with a smirk. I shook my head and slipped onto a barstool, my fingers nervously tracing the rim of my glass. I watched them huddle in a circle, drawing cigar bands with names scribbled on them. Luca drew Fiona. They shared a laugh before disappearing into the storage room behind the bar. "Seven minutes! Starting... now!" someone hollered, followed by a chorus of whistles. But seven minutes came and went. The door stayed shut. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty... I finally stood up, my heart hammering against my ribs, ready to see what was going on. Just then, I heard Luca’s friends whispering in a thick Sicilian dialect. "This American guy... her head is greener than a lemon tree in Palermo and she doesn’t even know it." "I bet Luca and Fiona are having the time of their lives in there right now." "Poor Boston girl. Look at her, sitting there like a loyal little dog. Hilarious." I froze. My blood turned to ice, and the air felt too thin to breathe. Suddenly, the storage room door creaked open. Luca walked out, wiping sweat from his brow, followed closely by Fiona, who was busy smoothing out her rumpled shirt. "Whoa, how was it? Seven minutes in heaven live up to the hype?" someone teased. Luca smirked, his eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Better. I didn't want to leave."

The seventh time Dante Moretti served me divorce papers, I was sitting with my son in a cheap diner on Chicago's South Side. I forced a smile and brushed my hand over my son's hair. "Just wait a little longer, sweetheart. This time, Mommy will get custody of you." He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he looked up and asked, “Mommy, how much do you need to sell me for before you're happy?” Before I could answer, he pulled a handwritten divorce agreement from his backpack and pushed it toward me. "I know you keep fighting Dad for me because you want more money from him." "I wrote the agreement for him. Please sign it. Dad is already tired. Stop making his life so hard." His handwriting was crooked, but every word had been written with care. Dante would give me three million dollars. At the bottom, in my son's childish scrawl, was one more line. [After you take the money, don't bother me, Dad, and Serena anymore. Let us be happy.] Serena was Dante's childhood sweetheart. The woman he trusted more than his own wife. For five years, I had stood against Dante's family, his lawyers, and half the Chicago underworld just to keep custody of my son. For him, I would've walked away with nothing. But the child I had raised for eight years had already chosen another mother. So why shouldn't I give their perfect little family exactly what they wanted?

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT, RATED 18+ “Touch your toes for me, my sweet girl.” “You're supposed to be off-limits," I breathed. "And yet, you keep finding reasons to be alone with me." he tilted my chin up. One night. One stranger. One catastrophic secret. Madison Greymond has spent years being the good daughter, careful, loyal, invisible. So when she lets herself have one reckless night with a dangerously attractive stranger, she tells herself it means nothing. Until her mother slides a diamond ring onto her finger and introduces the man she's going to marry. Derek Salvador. The man whose hands Madison still dreams about. The man who looked at her like she was the only thing worth having and apparently decided her mother was the better bet. Now he's sitting at their dinner table. Sleeping down the hall. Watching Madison with dark eyes, while she's supposed to smile and forget. She knows it's wrong. She knows what's at stake. But desire doesn't care about right and wrong and Derek has never pretended to play by the rules. The closer he gets, the harder Madison fights. The harder she fights, the more she wants to surrender. Her mother's happiness. Her own sanity. A secret that grows more dangerous with every stolen glance, every accidental touch, every moment alone where the line between forbidden and inevitable gets harder to find. Someone always finds out. The only question is….how long can a secret survive when two people can barely resist each other?

When my mother went into kidney failure and needed a transplant, it was Pauline Maynard—on the brink of death herself—who gave my mom a second chance at life. Just before Pauline passed, she gripped my hand tightly and whispered her final words. "Summer, Ricky is my only son. He's rebellious… and fragile. Please, take care of him. Just three years, please?" I gave her my word. Then I moved into their home and gave Ricky everything he needed—love, comfort, a sense of safety. For three years, I stayed true to that promise. By the third year, Ricky had transformed. No longer the wayward boy he once was, he rose to become the Mafia Don Ricky Lenza. And I was carrying his child. As I busied myself with wedding plans, I overheard something I was never meant to hear—his voice, low and mocking, as he wrapped another woman in his arms. "Summer? She's just pretending to love me for the sake of my mother's inheritance and a stupid deal. A gold digger like her dreams of marrying me? What a joke." A sharp pain pierced my chest, like thorns stabbing deep beneath the skin. On the way to a prenatal checkup, we were hit in a crash. My baby didn't make it. And my mother, sitting in the passenger seat, shielded me with her life. When I woke up, I stared blankly at the date on my phone. Three days left. That would've marked the end of the three-year promise. I realized then—I'd paid my debt to Pauline in full. It was time for me to go.

During the holiday, I took my whole family on a trip. Just as we were about to head back, more than ten police cars surrounded us at the guesthouse. The police showed a video. In it, under surveillance cameras, I drove to a forest near a popular tourist town the day before and dumped a corpse. Even more frightening, there was a strange woman sitting in the car. After throwing away the body, the two of us immediately engaged in intimate acts inside the car. Hannah Walker slapped me hard across the face. "No wonder you insisted on going to that tourist town to buy snacks for us—you were using it as an excuse to go on a date! "After doing something so inhumane, you still had the nerve to do such filthy things in the car?" However, yesterday, I had clearly gone to the town alone to buy snacks and returned. There was no such horrifying experience at all. Without another word, the police opened the trunk. When the searchlight swept across it, it was filled with bloodstains from the victim's body. In the corner, they also found the murder weapon with my fingerprints on it. I had no way to defend myself. I fell from being a rocket engineer, a hero in the country's aerospace field, to a death row prisoner. Due to the severity of the case, I was sent to the execution ground in less than a month. My parents and child, who had been on the trip with me, were blocked at the guesthouse by the victim's family and beaten to death. However, even as reality dawned on me, I still did not understand what had happened that day. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I was about to leave to buy snacks.

On the very first day of college, I became Kingsley University's infamous jerk magnet. It didn't matter whether it was the polished upperclassman everyone adored or the rebellious campus bad boy; any guy who went on even one date with me would dump me the very next day for my roommate, Lucinda Lane. Lucinda quickly became the untouchable dream girl every elite guy was obsessed with, effortlessly managing her ever-growing roster of admirers. She'd hand me another carefully curated list of perfect dating prospects every single day. "Girl, don't be afraid of getting hurt. There's always a better one waiting. You have to be brave enough to chase true love." I believed her. So, I kept going after the next guy. This time, I had gotten a sweet younger student with puppy-dog charm. Then, he dumped me, too. For Lucinda. Just when I was at my lowest, a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. "The heroine is incredible. She's stolen so many men already! I've hated that evil supporting girl forever. Why does some country bumpkin get to have all these guys falling for her?" "I wish I had the heroine's Affection Transfer System. That way, my ex wouldn't have been stolen by that woman." "I can't wait to see what the next male lead is like. I'm literally just sitting here and waiting for her to steal another man." That was when it finally clicked. I'd been working unpaid as stocking labor for her dating pool this whole time.

She gave him five years of her life. Her education. Her passion. Her family name. Everything she had and everything she was — laid down piece by piece at the altar of a man and his ambitions, because she loved him and she believed in them. But the moment he reached the top, he discarded her without a second glance and proposed to another woman on international live television. So Mia did the only reasonable thing a heartbroken, furious woman could do. She found a bar. She found a stranger. She found her way into a hotel room and completely out of her mind for one reckless, consequence-free night. Then he tried to pay her afterward. She paid him back. Every bill. Then she slapped him clean across the face and walked out without looking back. She thought that was the end of it. It wasn't even close. Because the stranger she spent the night with turned out to be Cole Ashford — new captain of the Chicago Vortex, the most infuriating man she had ever encountered, and the person sitting behind the interview table when she walked in the very next morning with her whole future on the line. He wants her. He said so plainly, across a professional table, without a single apology for the honesty of it. She told him exactly where he could put that. But Cole Ashford is not a man who lets go of what he wants. And somewhere between the fury and the history and the secret she has spent years running from, Mia is beginning to wonder if the universe placed him in her path for a reason. Or if she is simply foolish enough to make the same mistake twice.

During a family dinner, the older relatives smiled and encouraged Dylan Jenkin and me to sit together. But once I sat down, he casually turned away and settled beside my stepsister, Ivy Langford. One of the elders said teasingly, “Aren’t you and Nina joined at the hip? We thought you two might make it official today. Why aren’t you sitting together?” Dylan chuckled and poured Ivy a cup of tea. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Nina and I are just close friends,” he said with calm and casual ease. His gaze swept over me without a hint of affection. Then, he turned to Ivy beside him. His voice grew gentler as he said, “I’ve always liked girls like Ivy.” Laughter echoed around the table, yet a chill settled into my heart. No one knew that we had been secretly dating for three years. After countless nights in each other’s arms, he reassured me that he would tell the family about us once his older brother had a girlfriend. He said they might see his brother as irresponsible and immature if he revealed his relationship first. I finally saw the truth behind those excuses: he simply did not love me. I forced a smile and nodded along with his words. “Yes, we’re just friends.” Dylan exhaled in relief. He was clearly pleased with my response. He had no idea that I was not actually playing along. With those final words, I stopped holding on and gave up on our secret relationship.

DAILY UPDATE — I don't love you. — I muttered. He set his wine aside and stood up, slowly closing the distance between us, and with his fingertips he touched my chin, his gaze wandering to my mouth and then lingering on my eyes. — I don't love you either, princess, and I don't intend to. He said those words with complete coldness and walked away sitting down again and it infuriated me. — Why fight a tournament for my hand then? All this because I'm a princess? — I asked like a shot. — You are a Lancaster princess and I need a worthy heir. — I wish my uterus was dry as the desert sands, Commander. He glared at me and I saw a flash of anger in his black eyes, but at the same instant he hid it and put his cynical smile in place. — So in that case we would have to try many times, dear, until your uterus becomes less dry. I would try for the rest of my life even. — He countered maliciously. In a tournament by the hand of Princess Helena Lancaster her destiny to cross with John Chase, a fearsome commander and warrior, with a peculiar personality. He was everything she detested, possessive, audacious, authoritarian, and dominant in the extreme, and he was the who had the best chance of winning the tournament for her hand. But John Chase was much more than a commander of Corvo Island, he was hiding a dark secret that would change her life forever. An island full of mysterious men, with their own secrets and conflicts, and she would be their lady, soon Helena would discover that a great danger lurks on the island, could she trust her husband to protect her?

Avery Nash had two lives and one rule. Keep them completely separate. By day she was the captain of the Crestwood University cheer squad and a Business Management student holding onto her scholarship by her fingernails. By night she was Scarlett, masked and wigged and untouchable, dancing at Velvet Underground to cover the gap between what her scholarship paid and what her mother's deadbeat boyfriend kept taking from them. On the night her boyfriend cheated on her with her biggest rival, Avery made one reckless decision. She followed a brooding stranger back to his motel room and gave him the one thing she had been saving. Her virginity. "Take off the mask. I want to see you." He had said. "A little mystery never hurt anyone, did it?" she replied. She slipped out before dawn, telling herself she would never see him again. Then she rang her best friend, Jade's doorbell and he answered the door. Liam Harrington was Jade's new stepbrother, who she hated, the transfer quarterback every girl on campus was already talking about, and the boy sitting three seats away from her in every Business Management lecture. He was also the only person in the world who knew what Avery felt like without her armour on. He just did not know her real face. Now Avery was living three lives at once. The captain, the stripper, and the girl quietly falling for the one man she was absolutely forbidden to want. And the secret that started as one reckless birthday night was growing into something big enough to burn everything she had built.