The Double Fyodor Dostoevsky Novels & Stories

[My whole life, I searched for my happiness. I was proud that I found it, but it was just a dream and a joke. [I read your pardon letter. It’s written really well, and it mocks my perfect marriage. [Farewell. [Don’t keep me in your thoughts.] Lyra knew that their marriage had just been a meticulously planned lie? The moment he finished reading the suicide note, Dale’s face turned even paler. Farewell. That one word stabbed into his eyes like needles.

I saw that she was still typing, but I had already hit send for my reply. To: Tasha Veda or your ex From: Tasha Veda that's why you won't pursue him again oh bitch well, you won't pursue my exes either stupid, but we are strong women here we don't need a man for pleasure ಠ_ಠ I chuckled. To: Tasha Veda my head's throbbing from this conversation, pls let's stop talking about it what matters is that I chose not to go home with him today When Tasha finished reading what I had sent, she immediately turned to me with an unpainted face. He seemed surprised, confused, and disapproving. In fact, she is grimacing.

“Don’t be angry. I had to talk to my friend. Mrs. Moturanyo—she’s my best friend. I couldn’t avoid her.” He didn’t respond immediately. “I’m sorry for keeping you,” she added gently. Outside, just close enough to hear— Fusayo stood frozen. His heart raced. So it’s true… His suspicions weren’t wrong. The darkroom. Mrs. Ajayi. Kingsley. Everything connected. But what he was about to witness next— That would change everything. And in that moment— Fusayo made up his mind. He was going to do something bold. Something dangerous.

There was anger and a flicker of guilt that vanished as soon as it surfaced, but in the end, it all dissolved into nothing. He gently pushed Lyra out of his embrace, walked over to where I was curled up on the ground, and crouched down. Looking me in the eye, he said, "See, Sylvia, this is destiny. In my previous life, I mistook the person who saved me, causing Lyra to suffer. In this life…"

Haha! However, truth be told, I had never seen someone so decent. Not even Neil. Neil used to flirt with me without leaving any single chance. But his eyes... It were somewhat different, for it allowed me to see the crystal clear proof of his innocence. The most rarest thing in the world! In a world full of lies and deceit, where demon resides inside every mind, his eyes were the most angelic one. Even, I too am evil. I have set my mind to destroy this innocent one. I couldn't but laugh at my destiny. What an irony, no?

Okay, the wine has to be the problem because I could swear this feels like attraction and I’m not attracted to guys like this—big, muscle-bound guys who look like they could pick me up and toss me over their shoulders and carry me up to their bedrooms… I clear my throat. “I’m not into that kind of thing, for the record. Those are your sex dolls. Like I said when I buzzed the gate. They were misdelivered to me. See? Right there?” I point at the address label on the box. “Mr. Dick Balsac.” He glances down and chuckles. “Heh. Dick Balsac. Awesome.” He looks up. “Who brings fruitcake to a neighbor?” “Huh?”

Or am I doomed to be caught in the very power I tried to escape? Chapter 1 – Serena Fyodor Dostoevsky, a famous Russian novelist, once said, “The soul is healed by being with children.”I could not agree more. They were so pure, so innocent, and bundles of joy to be with—almost like a healing balm. Their energy was pure and uninhibited, which filled me with a sense of peace. Being around them reminded me of everything good and pure, like when the world first began, unraveling itself like flower petals, unfolding and tilting toward the sun to be fed, and aging as the hands on the clocks ticked by.

I intend it to be, I don’t want any woman to come closer to it. I never understand what my destiny wants from me. I guess it wants me to turn into the very monster I loathed my whole life, My father, Boris. Despite how hard I tried to not become like my father, in the end, I realized I could never be a good man because Boris’s blood runs in my veins. I tried desperately but I couldn’t reject the fact that I'm Boris’s son. Author’s Note:- Hey guys, You’re gonna see a different side of NIKOLAI in this book, hope you’re ready.

“You’re flirting with death. I’m not the only person who could take you down.” The accusation sticks tighter than it would have before El, before the heartbeat in that little office, but I sip my coffee like his words don’t mean a thing to me. The waitresses don’t seem to give a fuck about our little scuffle, at least. “Do you have anything other than threats?” I ask. Henry sighs. “Fyodor’s not a totally uncommon name, but I did some digging, and I was able to connect it to a guy called Raskolnikov, who dropped off the map in Russia about a month before Fyodor started moving over here.”

image he worked so hard to maintain. I closed the closet, still grinning, and wandered into his bedroom. On his nightstand I found more books, all by Fyodor Dostoevsky: Crime and Punishment, Notes from Underground, The Idiot, White Nights. I picked one up and flipped through it. The pages were worn, corners folded and some lines underlined. He wasn't just pretending to like this stuff, he really was a superfan of Russian literature. I didn't believe it when he first told me, but now I believed it without a doubt.