The Memo Novels & Stories

“Nah! I’m just kidding! You can have the car. It is yours now. You can take it home tonight, and I’ll process the transfer papers personally tomorrow.” Was I hearing things? Did the Director just give me the company Chevy. Sir Lincoln must have seen the confused look on my face and answered my unspoken question. “The father of the children you saved is an owner of a multibillion-dollar oil company in the Middle East. He just gave our agency a huge donation for saving his children. The car is the least we can give you.”

“Till date collection of all memos and rules and guidelines ever laden by the council.” “You must be kidding me,” Kira groaned as she opened the latest volume and saw today’s memo added there with Dimitri’s sign on it. “How am I going to read through all this?” she muttered. “Every memo is filed in here, every rule is listed. If you want to read their rules first hand, this is it,” Taron sighed and pulled chair for Kira to sit in. “You enjoy this, while I will go and make arrangements.” And he left.

“What is it?” Damien let out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “How do you feel about reading someone else’s version of our lives over morning coffee?” She frowned, pulling back to search his face. “What?” He turned, slid the phone toward her. There it was: an email forwarded by Calloway, subject line biting in its vagueness: Heads Up, Leaked Memoir Pitch.

Rose Murdock's POV By the time I came back to my senses and quickly hung up the phone, I had already heard more than enough. There was a sheet of paper lying on the carpet. I picked it up—it was a medical report. The diagnosis read end-stage heart failure. In the patient column, the name written there was Adrian Sanders, the same one I had just heard on the phone. That was when I remembered the recent news regarding the leader of the pack's most powerful mercenary corps, Orion. He had suddenly announced that he would hand over his authority to his deputy.

One man yelled on top of his voice. The entire table turned their eyes on me. Like they were waiting for a reaction. I smiled hard without a word. “We underestimated them, yes. Fail, I don't think that was what happened. Don't you agree with me gentlemen?” None of them responded but I could see the shock on their faces. They weren't expecting me to be good at this. I had them silenced and shocked. “There's a memo that would be sent across pretty soon. I need you all to start working as soon as possible. I find out that you're missing work for a reason, that would be your last day in this company. Meeting's dismissed.”

While his eyes trace the pattern of blood drops on the floor. “What else do you expect me to do? Tonight signifies who makes it to the final show. Mira me, I automatically lost.” The telephone rings five times in a row but Leo ignores it. “Talk to me….” Alonso answers. “Mr Gomez? Would you be so kind as to put Mr Sal on, please?” A cheery feminine voice speaks from the other end of the line. “Well, he will get back to you, okay.” Alonso says keeping eye contact with Leo.

Daffa gave a small album to Aiys. "Capture it our memories are here Aiys . I don't want you to be sad, even if that happens. Look at this picture, create that smile again!" Memories of the Blue City

she said. "Leo is sending it," Caiden replied. "It will be here by morning." "I want to see it tonight." Caiden watched her face for a beat, recognizing the look, then pulled out his phone and called Leo back. Twelve minutes later, the file pinged onto his laptop. Nadia stepped up to the desk, leaning in beside him as they read the glowing screen together. It was a single page, typed with the rigid, clean margins of an old-school corporate memo.

“We have a problem.” Brian straightened. ❄️ “Define problem.” “A memo,” Kyla said. “Internal. Council Strategy Subcommittee. Circulated three months ago.” Alex didn’t rush her. He’d learned that rushing people when they carried fragile things only made them drop them. “What kind of memo?” he asked. Kyla swallowed. “The kind that answers the question they keep pretending no one asked.” She projected it onto the wall. It wasn’t inflammatory. That was the worst part. No slurs. No threats. No grand declarations of control.

(Lieutenant Colonel Selie) “..Got it…oh and also, send the memo to the Minister Cabinet that tomorrow, there will be a meeting with me…the meeting tomorrow will be extremely sensitive..and I want everyone that were essentials to attend...no excuses…”. “Understood sir….Sergeant Lelenia and Xiltarra…issues the Presidential memo..and proceed with the order..”.(Lieutenant Colonel Selie) “Understood Madam..”.(Sergeant Lelenia and Xiltarra)