Stolen Glances Novels & Stories

Every time he enters the room, I see that look, that sharp, lusty glint in his eyes that makes my skin crawl. He doesn't just stand and watch me. He stands right between my splayed legs, his eyes roaming over every inch of me, and he touches himself. He brings out his length, and works himself with a sickening act intensity, staring at me until he cums, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the small space. I never close my eyes. I can’t afford to. I don’t know what he would do if I looked away, if I showed him I wasn't watching the horror he was creating. So I stare. I stare until my eyes burn, until my soul feels like it’s being rubbed raw with sandpaper. It is disgusting, degrading, an

The hug shifted slowly, dangerously. I don’t know who moved first. Maybe me, chasing heat to drown the cold guilt. Maybe him, finally giving in to the glances we’d both pretended not to notice for years. One second I was sobbing into his chest; the next our mouths collided — desperate, bruising, years of stolen looks and swallowed want detonating between us.

I wasn't going to go there. Anyways, now that I knew it was Maverick Russo's watch that I'd stolen, I wasn't remorseful. I could've done more. I could've fucking stolen everything from him, down to his clothes. He was such a dickhead. “We were talking about that video that Adeline posted that went viral.” My eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Adeline? Who's that?” They looked at me like I'd grown a second head. Then Jules’s eyes lit up in realization.

“You know, break it down so I at least have an idea how to get out of here when I want to?” Elias glanced at her, lips twitching. “I haven’t read it,” he admitted. “But we’re looking into artifacts that were destroyed during the Great Purge. We just have to flip through until we find one about a mirror.” “Right,” Lyra sighed, the word coming out heavier than it should have. Elias shifted beside her, the quiet tugging at his chest. He didn’t like seeing her like this—so small, so uncertain. With a softness that surprised even himself, he reached out and ran his hand slowly down her arm. His touch was careful.

"There's no way Sienna got so lucky to impregnate herself with the sperm of a billionaire donor. After the way she trashed you, we're not missing this train wreck!" Right at the entrance was a photo of Sienna with a foreign man. Just then, Sienna spotted me. She lifted her chin, clutched Andre's arm, and strutted over. "Well, if it isn't my broke bestie. I thought you wouldn't show! Since you don't have my eye for the right donor, you must be dying of jealousy!" She really did think she had a good eye for these things. But she was as blind as a bat, not noticing there was no warmth in Andre's eyes.

Epilogue Isabel I never thought the day would come when I would feel this kind of emptiness. I told myself I was clever, that I was in control, that I could manipulate my way into happiness. But sitting here alone, scrolling through my phone, my heart burns with a jealousy so sharp it feels like fire in my chest. There they were, photos of Seline and her other man, her radiant smile brighter than I had ever seen it. The headlines were everywhere, “Business Tycoon Alex Thompson Engaged to Longtime Love, Seline.”

I was trying my best to subdue the anger in me because if I let it out, I would rip throats so I recalled the sweet moments of today. I recalled those stolen glances. Every time she believes I’m not looking, her eyes drift to me like iron filings to a magnet,her gaze wandered up to the VIP section,to me. Then darting away the instant she realized I was already watching. Fucking adorable. The way her lips part just slightly when she catches herself. The faint flush that climbs her throat. She has no idea how transparent she is. How every nervous little look screams want, even while her mind scrambles for excuses.

As my thumb presses the power button, my eyes fall upon the message preview. My annoyance instantly evaporates, replaced by a cold, numbing shock. The blood drains from my face as I read the words. From: Unknown NumberMessage: “You have refused to pay me after I stabbed you to get what you wanted. This was a deal. If it is not kept, next time, I will not avoid your vitals.” I read it again, certain I must have misunderstood. But the words remain unchanged, glaring up at me from the screen. “Miles? What is it?” Evans leans forward, his brow furrowed.

He wasn’t even moving. He was looking straight at me. The way his eyes locked onto mine — steady, unblinking — sent a chill down my spine. He didn’t even try to hide it. I dropped my eyes immediately, shoving the jar into my cart. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe he was just another man who didn’t understand that staring at women in public wasn’t a compliment. But something about him… something didn’t feel right. I turned into the next aisle, moving quicker now. My mind ran through all the possibilities — was he following me? A creep? A cop? A debt collector? I hadn’t done anything wrong lately, but my life had never exactly been free of trouble.

He paused, then looked at me. "If you want, I can alter its structure. Break the connection. I can even make it backfire on the person who cast it." So that was how it was… No wonder she became some so-called 'lucky streamer.' She was not lucky. She was burning through my luck, stealing my life. "How much?" I asked without hesitation. "I don't charge," he replied, calm and firm. "Stopping things like this is a good enough reason." I froze for a second, then immediately handed him the paper.