Submission Is Not My Style の小説・ストーリー

Try something else. Tbc... Don't forget to leave a gem for us if you are happy the updates are back:)

And then you won't have anyone left to rely on. Only me. My thumb hovered over the screen. A media contact. Anonymous submission portal. One click, and that was all it would take to set the whole thing moving. Calista watched, eager and expectant. I chuckled once, then tapped the screen. The image uploaded. Sent. Gone, out into the current where I couldn't pull it back even if I wanted to. A few seconds later, the confirmation appeared. Successfully submitted. I leaned back against the couch, deeply satisfied.

I actually I'm giving my best. But honestly, I don't know if my best is enough. Please kindly drop gems and also a thumbs up for this if you are feeling my story okay.

No rewriting necessary. We may get an opportunity now after many weeks have passed.

“Do you agree that I am your mate?” “Yes,” He nodded. He pressed his lips and somehow he looked miserable and hopeful. “I hope that you aren’t disappointed in me… and you won’t reject me.” “Hell,” She frowned. “Why would I reject you?” She tilted her head. “I’m a human. I’m not a wolf or a lycan.” She tilted her head and clicked her tongue. Human? But it seemed that he also recognized her as a mate. “Well, that’s not a problem to me. We can start dating now.” Ines looked serious.

She came to find me in the study. She put the submission on my desk. “This is mine," she said. I read through it. She was correct. The methodology was not similar. It was identical in the way that a copy was identical. “Yes," I said. “What do I do?" she said. Not distressed. Asking for information about process. “You document it," I said. "You establish the record clearly showing your original submission date predates theirs. Then you decide what outcome you want." “What are my options?" she said.

My tone was flat, cold and defensive. Everyone feels like a threat right now. “This is none of your business,” I said, standing slowly. “But I need you to grant me one thing.” She didn’t respond, so I kept going. “You won’t say a word about this. Not to anyone. Not even the Alpha.” My eyes locked onto hers. I wasn’t blinking. I wasn’t begging. But I was falling apart. “Please?” I added, voice almost breaking. She looked down. Then nodded.

"I stitched the first styles myself by hand. Then I was the designer. Now, I have designers and only sketch every once in a while when I'm feeling inspired." "Your purses are so lovely," I complimented her. Credit where credit was due, after all. Sofia smiled serenely at me. "Why thank you. I will send you whichever one you please. Just let me know." My jaw dropped. She was just going to GIVE me an Esposito? "Wow… thank you." "Anytime. Now, James, to business," Sofia began. James looked at me suddenly. "Becca, would you mind giving us a while? This is nothing you need to be involved in."

"That is a very serious accusation." "I wouldn't make it if I couldn't prove it," I lied. I didn't have proof of that yet, but a seed of doubt is all you need to kill a scholarship. "Check his recent submissions against her writing style. You’ll see the patterns." I pulled out a flash drive and set it on the desk. It felt heavy. Like a grenade.