Novel & Cerita The Little Man Who Wasn't There

I stepped onto the stage and spoke calmly, "Thank you all for attending our mate bond dissolution ceremony. I willingly relinquish my position as Luna of the Snowdrifter Pack and divorce Liam." "Good! Sofia! You chose to reject me! You'd better not regret this!" Liam gritted his teeth. As I watched our mate bond dissolve, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. "I will never regret this! My only regret is not breaking our mate bond sooner! If I had... Maybe my Cecilia would still be alive!" "What? Is Princess Cecilia dead?" "Is this real? What happened?" A wave of murmurs swept through the hall. Liam staggered back, clutching his chest in shock. "W-What did you just say? Sofia, what did you

I saw them hunch over, trying to avoid attention as if they could sneak away unnoticed. Hailey's friend, Lucy White, suddenly spoke up loudly. "Sophia, where'd you dig up these two actors? Not bad at all. Should we have Hailey recommend them to the entertainment industry? "You're so broke you can't even afford a decent outfit. Don't tell me you spent all your money hiring them? "At least try to make it look convincing! I've got a dress I've only worn once. How about I give it to you? That way, your little show won't look so pathetic. It makes people die laughing!"

“I know.” I mutter loudly, letting the water run over me before quickly washing myself. When I make my way outside again, Marcus is waiting for me near the lobby. “Well?” I ask immediately, but he shakes his head. “Nothing. The cameras are down.” He says, and I curse under my breath. “Of course they are. That is just how it works isn’t it.” I mutter and he sighs. “Yeah.” I look around the town. "This is a small and quiet human town. Too small for someone to just vanish. She has to be somewhere, someone had to have seen her."

In truth, it was never a plan—only a desperate man’s last, flailing struggle. I calculated the days. Thayer’s deadline for repayment was approaching. During this forced isolation, my parents were undoubtedly frantic with worry. Yet this was the consequence of their own indulgence—it was nothing but poetic justice. Outside, the autumn wind tossed the leaves of the trees against the glass with a soft rustle. I locked the files into the safe and turned to look at the photo on the wall: Seraphina holding her elephant plushie. Her smile revealed tiny dimples, sunlight filtering through the soft strands of her hair, scattering delicate patches of light across her cheeks.

The man at the next stool didn't speak to me. He was drinking something amber with one ice cube. His hands on the bar were working hands. Wide at the knuckle. A small white scar along the right thumb. He had his phone tilted slightly away, reading something. He didn't look up. He didn't look at me at all. After the third whiskey he slid a paper napkin across the bar between us. Still not looking up. I looked down. Four words. Small, square, unhurried handwriting. You do not have to.

Whispers buzzed through the room like flies. Kevin stared at the nightclub photo in disbelief, swaying as though he might collapse. He turned to Alina. His voice was shaking. “Alina… W-What… is this? Didn’t you say you were out for business that day?” Alina avoided his gaze, stammering and unable to answer. “Don’t worry. The best part hasn’t even started yet.”

Every time my heart raced, I would think of that lifeless villa from that world, and then I would inhale even deeper, as if I was trying to prove to myself that I was truly free. It was during one of those trips that I met Grant Miller. He wasn't some typical CEO, nor was he a twisted, obsessive man. Instead, he was just a landscape photographer, with a warm smile and steady hands. We met under the northern lights. He handed me a cup of hot cocoa and asked with a smile, "Are you cold?" At that moment, I didn't respond as I used to in that scripted world. I just pulled my scarf tighter around me, smiled, and said, "Freezing. Come on, share it with me."

Tiny Slim called after he froze for a breath while looking at the small boy’s back which was hastily disappearing behind the rich flora around them. “Welcome to my house, Maru!” Tiny Slim put some life to his voice in order to hide his embarrassment. He was living under a collection of leaves and dried wood which took a rectangular form in a mishmash of construct. Maru even wondered how the manmade house hasn’t crumbled already from its dire arrangement.

"I am very good at this cleaning job Sir and I can reassure you that I am no longer into..." "I never accused you of anything," Atlas cut her off taking another drag from his cigarette. "Martha the little slut," Atlas chuckled cupping her face in his hand as he raised her head so her eyes could meet his, he cupped her face in his hand squeezing tightly as Martha winced from the pain.