Novel & Cerita The Ice Box Murders

He wasn’t wearing his hockey stuff, just a simple black shirt that showed off his big arms and tattoos. “What are you doing here?” I whispered. My voice came out small. Alan stepped inside without asking. He looked at the dirty floor and the heavy boxes stacked in the corner that I still needed to move. “Saw the lights on. Figured you might be working late again.” I looked down at my shoes. “You don’t have to check on me. I’m fine.” He didn’t listen. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves and walked over to the boxes. Without saying anything, he picked up the biggest one like it weighed nothing. His muscles flexed under the tattoos.

I hear one whisper. I can smell three werewolves now and it seems like they're heading for my room. I begin to panic and sweat starts coming out of my palms . Are they coming for me? I quickly put everything in my back pack, including the file and I run to the window. Only to find it locked from outside! what the heck is this? Some kind of prison? Shit! Shit! Shit! what am I gonna do now? The footsteps are getting closer and I panic even more.

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started t

“Ma’am there is a delivery for you.” Dukia looked up from her laptop. “A delivery?” “Yes Ma’am. From… Donovan Enterprise.” Her heart skipped. She masked her emotions with a neutral expression. “Alright, bring it in.” Ceci entered carrying a medium sized white box tied with a silk ribbon. She placed it on Dukia’s desk with open curiosity. “Should I open it up for you?” “No, thank you. I will handle it myself.” Dukia responded. Ceci nodded and left, clearly dying of curiosity.

Williams escorted me straight to a secure, private VIP box right at the edge of the ice rink. "Stay here. You'll be safe," he said, giving my shoulder a brief, warm squeeze before leaving me to go get dressed in his hockey uniform for the game. When the game started, the sheer energy of the crowd swallowed me whole. The Blackwood Alphas moved across the ice like lightning. They were brutal, fast, and completely dominant. Williams was a force of nature as the captain. He crashed into opponents, stole the puck with superhuman speed, and led his team flawlessly.

I looked at the source of that voice and saw a group of students blocking the hallway. One of them smirked and said “You are still her mate?” Laughter erupted in the hallway, I ignored them and kept walking. That only made them louder. One of them said “Maybe Cross will let you watch next time.” My fist tightened so hard my nails cut into my palm. I stopped walking. The hallway suddenly became quiet but before I could move, another voice cut through the tension “Move.” It was cold and dangerous. Hearing it, everyone froze instantly. I looked at the person and saw Aiden Cross walking down the hallway wearing his hockey jacket loosely over his shoulders.

This time I did not tell him to let go. My mother had not died helpless. Even dying, she had tried to protect the evidence. Even dying, she had made one last decision. My chest hurt so badly I pressed a fist against it. “Where did she hide them?” I asked. Evelyn shook her head. “Richard never found out.” Agent Bennett’s expression sharpened. “Amelia might know.” “Yes,” Evelyn whispered. “That is why she chose the rink.” The rink where it started. The phrase made sense now.

[ Scarlett POV ] The locker room smelled like men's deodorant and old ambition, and neither of those things was going to stop me. I stood in the doorway for exactly three seconds. Long enough to take inventory, short enough that nobody could call it hesitation. Metal lockers, rows of them, every hook already taken by someone who had not expected company. Fluorescent light buzzing overhead like it had something to apologise for. Through the far wall I could hear a shower running, and underneath that,underneath the white noise of water and the distant clang of something metallic,I could hear voices cutting off the precise moment my door opened.

Enraged, they hurled stones and dirty water at me. "Officer, execute him as soon as possible! We won't feel safe otherwise!" "Damn it–this kind of monster kills, dumps the body, cheats on his wife, and still tries to frame her? He deserves to die!" "He must be a psychopath–who else would murder someone and dump the body in broad daylight?" Suddenly, a thought struck me. I struggled again and shouted, "Officer–after all this, who exactly are you saying I killed?"

His fingers shook as he swept a cold smile across the crowd. “The memory decoder is a new product. Data misalignment is normal. Maybe Finn altered the memories before he died to drag his wife down with him. After all, he’s a murderer who even dared to kill his wife's parents!” A team member burst in, face ashen, shouting, “Chief! Another murder just happened in the south district! The victim was carved up and had bones severed—the method is exactly the same!” Linda struggled to her feet. She looked at me slumped in the chair, long devoid of life, her whole body shaking.