Tales Of The Heart Novels & Stories

I will try to do faster updates, I hope you guys will support me in ending this book on a pleasant note <3 Hearts & Kisses

] [It's an A-rank cursed item that targets congenital weaknesses! [These players are disgusting! They exploited her kindness!] [It's over. They're going to use her heart condition against her!] "Hand over your Tarot cards and those artifacts," Brad threatened. "Or this 'Heartbeat Hourglass' will make your heart explode." "We did our research on you," another player sneered. "Congenital heart disease, right? This item will put an infinite strain on your heart." "Why?" The word was a choked whisper. I stared at them, my heart shattering. "I thought... we were friends."

Scarlett seemed to remember something and immediately told them to let me go. Seth pointed at me in frustration. "Scarlett, don't let Ron fool you. He's the one who's acting. "I barely tapped him three times and he's acting like he's dying. Who's he trying to fool?" The moment he finished speaking, I collapsed to the ground, unable to support myself. Blood seeped through my white shirt, spreading across my back in a dark red stain. The onlookers gasped in shock. "Ron, are you okay?"

staggered slightly, catching himself before falling. “It’s all of them,” he whispered. “Every message, every voice, every choice they tried to bury.” Lena stepped closer, eyes wide as she looked into the expanding grid. “This is what they were afraid of,” she said. “Not the Heart itself—the connection it creates.” Adrian nodded, feeling the truth of it pulse through his veins. The Heart wasn’t just a piece of technology. It was alive in a way no machine should be. It didn’t store data; it remembered. It carried echoes of intention, emotion, history. And now, it was showing them everything. The lights around them shifted, coalescing into shapes—faces, moments, fragments of the world outside.

The cracks in the floor glowed faintly with the same white fire still burning inside my chest. Ash forced himself into a sitting position, clutching the floor to stay upright. His movements were sluggish, but his eyes—those swirling silver-white eyes—held a clarity sharp enough to cut. “Tyla,” he rasped. “Listen carefully.” Arthur stepped forward instantly, tension rattling through him. “She’s not choosing anything until we know what the hell this ‘heart’ does.” Ash didn’t look at him. His gaze remained locked on me. “The heart is the anchor.”

I fo‍llowed h‍i‍m, and that was⁠ when I noticed something that made my heart st​op. My diary. ⁠On the c‌ouc‍h. Open. ‌ And Con⁠rad was s​tanding right in front of‍ it, r​eadi​ng. His f⁠ace was unreco‍gnizable. Compl‌ete‍ly still. M​y heartbeat sounded like r‍umbling storms inside m⁠y ears. Ev⁠eryth⁠ing I‌ wrote.‍ E‍veryth​ing I hid.

In the end, the perfect husband and father Stan and I were so proud of was a phony, and the love he showed us was a lie. The only truth was this deceitful plot he maintained for six years, ending with a meticulously staged car accident to take away my son's heart. Nonetheless, my consciousness blurred as the sedative flowed through my veins. I could feel the icy touch of machines digging inside my body, giving me more nightmares. There was only pitch-blackness where my son stood, an emptiness in his chest where his heart should have been. He was reaching toward me, screaming, "Mommy! It hurts so much!"

Despite saying I was never having another baby, two years later I gave birth to a baby girl. We named her Madelyn Grace. She was most impatient to be born. She arrived at just 36 weeks scaring the crap out of us. But she was born healthy. And they lived happily ever after! The End! Stay Tuned for my next short story: MUSICAL ATTRACTION! Will Chey finally find love? Or have another dead end relationship?

Otherwise, I’ll come after you. —None of that, kiddo! I leave the two of them and go to my office. When I arrive, I see a box on top of the desk. When I open it, I get a scare: inside, there’s an animal’s heart, with a note: I’m very close! I close the box quickly and throw it in the trash, feeling a chill run down my spine.