Table Tennis Quotes

☆☆☆☆ "So, Tyson, do you just lurk around waiting to interrupt people or is that a special service you offer?" He leaned against the table, his gaze locking with mine. "I'd say it's a special service, but only for certain people. I wouldn't want you to think I'm not paying enough attention to you, love." "Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow, challenging him, "Because I was under the impression you enjoyed making my life difficult, not keeping an eye on it." He chuckled, crossing his arms. "Well, it seems like you could use the excitement." "Oh, trust me, my life's exciting enough without you stirring up trouble." I scoffed, but the corners of my mouth twitched upwards in a reluctant smile. "But, perhaps I'm the kind of trouble you need." ☆☆☆☆ Ashley, the daughter of a millionaire, moves to a new city and hopes for a fresh start. With her sharp wit, she often finds herself at the center of school drama, not by choice, but by circumstances. Intent on maintaining a low profile at her new campus, her plan quickly falls apart when she mistakenly parks her bike in a reserved spot. Tyson, the school's notorious bad boy, is not just a troublemaker, but he's the youngest gang leader to be a part of a powerful mafia, feared by many but understood by few. Despite his fearsome reputation in the streets while other leaders might see him as a mere boy, Tyson is fiercely loyal to his inner circle, showing a side of him that few ever see. What will happen when their paths cross? ☆☆☆☆ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 #1 𝐨𝐟, 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. "𝑫𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎." ☆☆☆☆

She was sent to kill. Instead, she might be the one destined to end it all. Lea, a top-tier assassin for the secretive High Table, has never missed a mark—until now. What was supposed to be a routine mission turns into a long-term “quest” in the quiet town of Mystique Gore, assisting a cold, commanding man in a mansion older than memory. Strange? Yes. Dangerous? Definitely. But what’s worse? The mission wasn’t for a target... it was for *her*. Marked by a power she doesn’t understand and haunted by dreams that aren’t hers, Lea finds herself entangled in a world she never believed existed—one ruled by vampires, witches, and werewolves hiding in plain sight. And at the center of it all is Ivan, the enigmatic master of the house who knows more than he says... and watches her like she’s already his. As her assassin instincts clash with ancient prophecies, forbidden truths, and a mark that binds her fate to something much bigger, Lea must uncover why the High Table sent her here—and why the supernatural world is afraid of *her*. They say she’s the beginning. They say she’s the end. They say she must die to keep the peace. But Lea doesn’t take orders. She gives them.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.