The Hand Requiem Novels & Stories

After I discovered Chelsea Stone’s infidelity, I ended the relationship without giving her a chance. I packed my luggage bit by bit. She watched me, then suddenly said, “Jensen Scott, do you know what was the most boring thing about you?” I paused and turned around. She blew out a puff of smoke and smiled in a flirtatious way. “You were so boring. You did not even know how to sweet‑talk in bed. It was so uninteresting.” I walked away with my things, and I held back my tears. Three years later, I ran into her in the hospital corridor. She wore a white coat, and the medical record book in her hand almost slipped when I bumped into her. Our eyes met. She looked me over, and her tone turned playful. “Oh, is this not my blockhead ex‑boyfriend?” I smiled and did not reply. As I left the hospital, she stepped in front of me and lowered her voice. “Three years have passed. Have you learned how to sweet‑talk in bed?” I raised my hand and showed her my wife’s ultrasound report. “I have, but not to you.”

His large hand wraps around my throat just enough to make my pulse race, pinning me to the rain-slicked cabin wall as thunder rolls outside. “We can’t keep doing this,” he growls, but his hips grind against mine, hard and insistent, while his free hand slips under my skirt to find me already soaked. I whimper, arching into his touch, craving the sharp sting of his palm across my ass, the way he commands me to come for him like I’m his dirty little secret. My father’s best friend, the man who’s been in my life forever finally breaking every rule to claim me roughly, deeply, until I’m trembling and marked by him. What begins as one reckless, forbidden night spirals into an addiction of heated stolen moments, whispered dominance, and raw need… until the truth crashes down, pregnancies and betrayals threaten to shatter us, and everyone we love demands we end it. But how do you walk away when the only person who owns your body and heart refuses to let go?

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

My father died in the line of duty during a confidential assignment and received the highest national honor. I retrieved his ashes and escorted him home for burial. As soon as I reached the entrance of the residential area, I collided with a woman. The urn fell to the ground and injured her dog. In the next second, her palm struck my face. “You lunatic, you killed my dog! Can you afford to pay with your worthless life? Hand over the urn while kneeling so my dog can rest in peace!” I stood there in shock. Her dog had run into me without a leash, yet she tried to blame me. “There are security cameras here. Call the police if there is no other way. The box holds my father’s ashes. Watch your mouth.” The woman laughed as if she had heard the biggest joke. “He is a nobody. My dog was flown in from France. Can you afford to compensate me? If you know what is good for you, hand over the urn. My hubby is Ethan Stanford, the heir to Stanford Group. Can you afford to offend me?” I froze. I had no idea my husband had another wife.

THE UNFINISHED MISSION (In love with the assassin) Lucy was a twenty years old lady whose family were assassinated for a reason best known to her father, auntie and the culprit. Before her father gave up the ghost he told her to take revenge for their death. She shouldn't kill anyone but she must hand both the assassin and the culprit over to the cops. "Do not fall in love" her father warned her. She tried all her possible best not to fall in love even if she will do, she must accomplish the task ahead of her, everything changed when she met the assassin that killed her family, she fell in love with him. And she must hand him over to the cops. She must Avenge her family's death. She must not fall in love, but she fell in love with him, the assassin that sent her family to the land of no return. Andrew is the professional assassin who sent her family to the land of no return, he was the one given the mission to kill everyone in her family but luckily for her, she escaped that day. Andrew must kill her because she is his unfinished mission. It became a game of revenge, a game of hate and fighting the arrow of love.

"Quiet, girl!" I growled. Her body stiffened. I fumbled her breast with so much anger. "See, boys?" I said, with a low growl, "She is so soft." I laughed, cold and harsh. Lucian and Jamil roared with me. Her eyes squeezed shut, a blush creeping up her neck. This was better. Broken. "This is how you should behave," I muttered to myself with raw satisfaction. My hand moved lower, smacking her butt hard. Crack! Lina whimpered. It was a small, painful sound. Her pain was mine. I dragged her towards me. Her bare skin brushed my clothes, like a jolt. My hands moved over her curves, asserting my ownership. Her skin was soft, silk. She shivered with fear and something else. It excited me. I leaned in, my breath hot against her ear. Her heart pounded, like a frantic drumbeat. Just as I moved to take her, a whisper crept out of her mouth "Please, Sire, I haven't done this before." Her voice shook. It surprised me. I pulled my hand back, feigning surprise.

When I first met Thomas Hilton, he was still a street punk covered in blood. The only good thing about him was the clumsy sincerity when he tattooed my name on his chest. Later, when he rose to power, with a wave of his hand, he gave me half of Bronze Bay as a wedding gift. Everyone in Harborwood knew that I, Jessica Shaw, was more important to him than his own life. That was until today, when the celebrity Thomas kept finally walked into our house. With a big belly, she said to me with a smile, "Ms. Shaw, are you going to leave with dignity now, or wait until my son grows up and throws you out of this place?" I just raised my hand and ordered a subordinate to help her "give birth". When Thomas saw the pool of blood beneath her, he flew into a rage. He pressed a knife to my neck and said, "Jessica, you should know when to be satisfied!" I laughed softly and pressed the muzzle of a gun against his heart. "You really had a change of heart. Good thing my heart didn't change. My truest self is my ambition." Bang! A gunshot rang out.

"I was not flawed. your faith was flawed. If You had faith in your heart for me, I wouldn't have to bear all that I did because of you" she said looking towards him who was sobbing Infront of her. "I was very lost and angry at that time. All the evidence was against you and when I saw that condition of my mother, I gone mad." He told her and raised his hand to touch her but she jerked away his hand in anger. "Please believe me.... I really love you" He looked into her eyes with the hope that maybe she might believe his words. "There was a time when I also expected you to believe in me but then you did not believe me and left me alone with my sorrow and pain. Today I will leave you alone with your regrets and sorrows" she said angrily. She left from there. He fell on the floor. ** This is the story of two people who were separated by a misunderstanding although they loved each other so much that even a single second could not be spent without each other. There is a lot of mystery, secrets, misunderstanding and most importantly lack of trust.

Our elders always advice us to stay from our enemies but what will if they themselves arranged the marriage with your enemy. Same happened with Krisha and Abeer. Abeer is an IAS officer with good looks , sense of humor and little bit of aggression. On the other hand Krisha is a lawyer with full of sarcasm and beauty a perfect combination. She is confident lady. The question is how did they become enemies? And will they able survive in this arrange marriage. Or it will turned out into complete disaster?

“You want to be cleansed?” his voice was rough, dangerous. “Then let me drag every filthy sin out of you.” His hand slid higher, shoving her dress up to her hips. She whimpered when his fingers pressed against the thin lace hiding her heat already soaked through. “On your knees, begging for forgiveness, and dripping for me,” he muttered darkly. “Do you feel how wet you are? That’s not holy. That’s you wanting to be fucked.” Two fingers pushed past the lace, plunging inside her slick heat. Her moan broke in the stillness, echoing in a place that should have been sacred. Shame burned her cheeks, but her hips rocked helplessly against his hand, clenching around every thrust as if she’d been waiting for this sin all along. These are chances to watch good girls give in, bad girls take control, and men break every rule to have them. Stepbrothers, bosses, best friend’s fathers, priests, professors, dangerous strangers each story pushes the line between resistance and surrender. Dirty, addictive, and impossible to put down, this mature collection will leave you wet, aching, and hungry for more.