Target Round Table Novels & Stories

"Simple rules. We go around the circle. Lowest draw takes a shot. No exceptions." "Barbaric," Priya said, but she was already moving to join the circle. The group rearranged themselves around the coffee table. Julian dealt with the practiced ease of someone who had done this many times before. The first round passed without incident Derek drew low and downed his shot with theatrical suffering. The second round went to Priya, who grimaced but drank. The third round went to Vanessa. She stared at her card with an expression of exaggerated dismay. "Oh, no. I can't."

--Alyssa-- "Please, you are to move to that table," the guy called Richie said to us. The table Richie directed us to was positioned at the head of the room, a spot that commanded attention and significance. It was a round table with five chairs arranged neatly around it, each chair upholstered in luxurious fabric. The table itself was covered with a pristine white cloth, adorned with a centerpiece of fresh flowers that added a touch of elegance to the setting.

A startled voice called out tentatively, "Director Laurie, is that you? You got the message too?" Dorector Laurie blinked in surprise at his name, and as his vision focused, he was shocked to see that the occupants of the seats of the round table were the rest top members of Romero's board of Directors.

EVELARA The break ended too quickly. The officials did not allow us the luxury of rest. No long speeches. No gentle warnings. Just a quiet shift in the arena’s atmosphere that told every healer present the truth: this would be the round that broke most of us… The final round that would decide the fate of this competition. When the massive central screen ignited again, the hall dimmed as if the light itself was bowing to what was about to happen. FINAL ROUND: DUAL-TEAM DISASTER RESPONSE. MIRRORED TRAUMA. REAL-TIME OUTCOME SCORING.

So, I force myself to look away. "Please, everyone, take a seat," Alpha Remington starts and points at the ostentatious round table in the middle of the hall, his voice strong and confident. I feel the complete opposite as I take a seat at the table, while River stands behind me, like the rest of the Betas.

*Ronan* The mahogany table in front of me seemed to stretch on for miles, a polished desert of corporate boredom. And around it sat twelve of the most powerful board members in the Graves conglomerate, their voices a dull, buzzing hum in the background. They were talking about quarterly dividends, overseas acquisitions, and the fluctuating price of steel. I didn't care.

-- "Boss is here!" Araoluwa executives said as they stepped inside the nightclub's venue where the business event will be hosted. There are tables and chairs and a stage in front as many people are seated at each table. Amanda, Raven, Goro, Jin, and Hasen were seated at one table, and I walked to them. "The hell took you so long?" Goro asked. "I took a shit like you." I groaned as I decided to just go with the flow. "Oh, and- it was more massive and gigantic than yours, just sayin'." I whistled as I leaned back in the chair.

“This round we’re only betting money, not people.” I snorted. “Once I take all your money, betting people will probably be your only option, won’t it?” Taylor burst into laughter. “Such big talk! Let’s begin then!” The rules were simple: both sides would roll five dice, and whoever had the highest total value would win. For the warm-up round, one thousand dollars was on the line. As Taylor and I started shaking our cups, anyone could see that Taylor was way more skilled. She lifted the cup to her ear, shaking rhythmically with both hands for nearly a full minute before slamming it down.

The group settled into a loose circle, waiting, the anticipation building with every minute. A sharp ping made Adrea glance at her phone. The app had lit up with a bold notification: Table 47. Round One. Please proceed within ten minutes. Her pulse quickened. This was it. “They’ve started calling tables,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She showed the screen to Aris, who leaned closer, his hand brushing lightly against her arm. “Forty-seven,” he repeated with a small smile. “Come on, I’ll walk you there. Do you need a bathroom break before you get situated? They will have one after every two to three hours anyway.”

Daniel did not like being read when the page belonged to his own family. Then he looked back at Robert’s name. “No,” he said. “I do not.” The admission changed the room more than any accusation would have. Elaine moved quietly to the printer near the side cabinet and gathered another sheet as it emerged. “There are additional public mentions. Not many. Robert Cole attended two Northbridge donor dinners in the same year, one spring advisory gathering the year before, and one foundation roundtable eighteen months later.” Daniel’s hand closed once, then opened. “Who hosted the roundtable?”