Sunrise Fnaf Security Breach Novels & Stories

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

At my father's wake, my wife came in carrying her son. The boy was less than two years old. He was not mine. In front of me, in front of every person there to mourn my father, she opened the urn and held the boy over it. I screamed and lunged for the urn. The Vance security team was on me before I cleared the aisle. They held me on the floor. My father's ashes, mixed with the boy's urine, smeared across my face and into my mouth. I could not stop crying. Stella Vance straightened her skirt. "Zane has been crying every night. Our adviser said the ash of an honored elder will calm a child like that. Good for his health." The taste of metal came up the back of my throat. Before I could move, she was already at the door. "Have his ashes dried out by morning. Zane will need it again tomorrow night." By the time I came back to myself, she was gone. I held the rage in. I sent her one message. "You think you're going to do this to my father. You're insane. The divorce papers are coming." After that, every message I sent was blocked. I turned to the woman next to me, the woman who had stood beside me my whole life. And I said, "I will sign the company over to you. Help me bury Vance Group." Cassia Wynn looked at me a long time. "I don't want the company. I want you." I went still. Then I said, "Yes."

On the marking ceremony with my Alpha mate, Sebastian Cole, my world falls apart. A pack of Rogue werewolves kills my mother. The one responsible is Sebastian's stepsister, Cassandra Cole. The security footage captures everything. Cassandra runs out of the cemetery, with a group of Rogues hot on her heels. She bolts into my mother's house, desperate to hide. My mother steps in to protect her and fights back, but in the struggle, her silver rifle is knocked away and lands right at Cassandra's feet. Cassandra could pick it up and kill those Rogues, but she doesn't. She just stands there with a faint smile, watching as the Rogue leader drives his claws through my mother's heart. Later, Sebastian tries to justify her actions. "Vivian, Cassandra was wrong this time... I promise I'll punish her." But I know what I saw. I believe it was murder, and I am bringing charges against Cassandra at the Elder Council Court. However, Sebastian begs me to drop the case. "If Cassandra goes to prison, it'll destroy her! Vivian, don't do this." I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. I refuse him without hesitation. So, he makes another choice. The night before the hearing, he locks me in the basement, trying to stop me from testifying. That's when it finally hits me. No matter what happens, Cassandra will always matter more to Sebastian than I do.

Slade Norris is a trust fund baby, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t work for a living. In fact he works himself to the bone running a PR firm, security company and … oh yeah, he manages one of the world’s most famous hard rock bands: Feisty. While Slade may have been born with a silver spoon he’s worked extremely hard to prove himself, and make it on his own two feet. As a teenager he met four rough and rowdy boys who were looking to create a band and get famous. Slade knew he was the guy to make it happen and to ensure his buddies didn’t get taken advantage of along the way One big monkey wrench in their plans of world domination in the entertainment world: Slade’s childhood girlfriend and then high school sweetheart Holly Anderson. Holly had been around the guys of Feisty since their inception and was an integral part of helping them write songs and stay on track. Since Holly was a year younger than Slade and the guys, she was stuck at home finishing her senior year when the guys hit it big and left on a world tour. What happened shortly after has haunted them all for their entire adult lives. Can the universe intervene and bring this couple back together for one more chance? Find out in the final installment of my Feisty Series: How To Forgive. This book can be read as a stand alone but it would be best read as the final book in the series as it answers a lot of lingering questions left by the first four books! Thank you for reading.

A year after Easton Carter turns down my 99th proposal, he calls me in the middle of the night, crying like his world's falling apart. He says his grandmother is dying and her last wish is to see him married. He tells me he's finally ready. He's already ordered the dress and booked the venue. But when I show up at the venue in my wedding dress, his friends burst out laughing. "You actually believed that? And you even swapped the cheap dress he ordered for a custom-made one? You're the queen of pathetic!" Then one of them yells, "Look, the groom's side piece showed up to crash the wedding!" "Security, come get this homewrecker!" Guests turn to stare like they're watching a joke unfold. Easton doesn't even look at me. He turns to the woman he loves and says, "I told you I'd ruin this wedding for you. I meant it. If you can't have him, no one will!" She gives him a satisfactory smile. Then, he finally glances at me. "Tina said you did her a favor today. When we get married, you can be the bridesmaid, and you can still spend time with us after that." So, he brought me here just to help his sweetheart ruin her crush's wedding. But when Easton finally looks up at the wedding banner and realizes that I'm the bride, his eyes flare with rage.

Selene Rivers was an upcoming singer and her future was bright until the moment when she received a phone call which was supposed to elevate her but ends up ruining her life. During the night, she was declared a fraud, beat up on the street, run over by a car and charged with committing a crime she never committed. Her husband framed her. Her songs were stolen by her best friend. And the world thought that she was dead. Selene lost her voice, her face and her child who she believed was dead at birth in jail. Somebody wanted her to go permanently. The job was nearly done by a gang attack, but was rescued by billionaire Ronan Blackwood, who is the best friend of her husband, and provided her with a new name, a new face, and a second life. Now Selene is willing to reclaim all the things that had been stolen. With a new name she comes back to the music world and reveals the lies, the betrayal, and the secrets that took her to the hell. Her revenge, however, reveals a bigger truth, that her son is alive, and he has lived under her roof all along. As she struggles to seek justice and reclaim her life, she begins to feel something she has never anticipated, that is, love, comfort, and security in the arms of Ronan. Her past tried to bury her. Her opponents attempted to mute her. But she is done running. This is the time she will have her voice back. This time she will save her child. This time, it will be her own choice of the future.

Stanley Porter, my wife Jessica Evans’ close male friend, and I are both competing to be the next fire captain. In my first lifetime, I was chosen by a unanimous vote. On my very first night on duty as captain, Jessica came over to the fire station to celebrate with me. Sticking to my duties as captain, I didn't touch a single drop of alcohol. Yet, after drinking the chicken soup Jessica gave me, I fell into a deep sleep. That night, a massive fire broke out in the old district, resulting in the deaths of 58 people. Because I missed the station's alarm, I was accused of dereliction of duty and labeled as the main person responsible for the tragedy. The enraged families of the victims ended up beating me to death. In my second lifetime, I withdrew my name from the selection for captain. I handed the badge over to Stanley instead, saying, "You're better suited to be captain than I am." I'd assumed that this was enough to ensure that the fire couldn't be pinned on me. Yet, when the authorities looked into the fire, they ended up seeing me appear in the security footage from where the fire began. Everyone assumed I'd deliberately started the fire to get back at Stanley out of jealousy for losing out on the captain position. I now open my eyes again to live my third life. I watch as Stanley excitedly gives his speech on the podium after being made the captain. This time around, I submit a request for annual leave and take a cab straight to the airport.

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

Claire nodded, then groaned as he withdrew his finger from her pulsing, aching sex. She heard him walk down the hallway, heard him open the drawer in the bedside table, heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper, heard him approach her again. And that whole time, she stayed where she was: legs trembling and open, hands clenched into fists on the wall, heart pounding and pussy fluttering. Suddenly, he was on her, his cock nudging her from behind, his hands on her hips. Claire whimpered again, pushed back against him. **** John “Griff” Griffin lives by rules. Always has. From the Navy to the SEALs to his job as a bodyguard at Solid Security, control is survival. Protocol saves lives. Boundaries exist for a reason, especially during honeypot ops. Break the rules, and people get hurt. Griff knows that better than anyone. The problem is Claire Worthington. Claire is supposed to be a spoiled socialite hiding after a billion-dollar Ponzi scheme. A criminal. A mark. Instead, she’s living quietly in Denver: working, rebuilding, and starting over like she actually means it. She doesn’t look guilty. She looks… real. When Griff breaks every rule and falls for her, it feels like freedom. It’s also a lie. He’s hiding his name, his job, and the truth – that he was sent to get close and gather evidence. If Claire knew, would she forgive him? Should she? And if she really is guilty, will Griff turn her in… or protect the woman he loves, no matter the cost?

Victoria Bathram has been fighting kidney failure for five long years. Through endless hospital visits, painful treatments, and nights filled with fear, she survives on one thing alone—the love of her husband, Gabriel. He is attentive, gentle, and seemingly devoted, standing by her side as she waits for the transplant that could save her life. When a matching kidney is finally found, Victoria believes her suffering is about to end. Instead, it is just beginning. By accident, Victoria overhears a conversation she was never meant to hear. Gabriel has made a choice—one that does not include her. The kidney meant to save her will be given to another patient: a young girl named Sandra. A child he calls his daughter. A child from the secret family he has been hiding all along. As Victoria’s health rapidly declines, the truth unravels. Gabriel has not only betrayed her trust but has been living a second life inside her parents’ villas—homes he kept her away from under the excuse of protecting her fragile heart. Through hidden security footage, Victoria watches her husband give his affection, loyalty, and gifts to another woman and her children, using the life she thought was hers. With only months left to live and everything she believed in stripped away, Victoria faces a devastating choice of her own: remain a silent victim of love and betrayal, or reclaim what little time she has left on her own terms.