Romans & histoires The One That Got Away

Please be my most beautiful bride. I was so fed up with him that, in the end, Quentin had to pressure the Nolans to get Justin to stop with his antics. On the day we went to get our marriage certificate, as soon as Quentin and I arrived at the court, someone blocked our way. It was Alice. She looked rather pitiful. "Quentin, don't be fooled by Viola. She loves Justin and has always wanted to get back together with him. Be careful—or you’ll lose her to Justin."

I continued trying to give him vivid descriptions of her so he knows exactly who I’m talking about. “Sir, I’m sorry, but Isabella Ross left a long while back. It’s been months and I have no idea how that happened and no, she’s not a fugitive. I guess she was just wrongly accused.” Barrett’s hands fidgeted as he spoke, his voice shaky. He avoided my gaze but the sweat from his forehead gave him away. He knew something. I could tell.

After graduation, I finally got what I'd wanted: a job in Bellshore alongside Callum Price and Brielle Sutton. They came up with one rule. Whenever something came up, we'd vote. Majority rules. Once, I accidentally got Callum's shirt wet. Brielle immediately said, "She always does this. Last time, she swiped my lipstick without even asking." Callum pulled out his phone. "Let's vote. Who's in the wrong?" Two votes to one. I had to apologize, pay for the shirt, and from then on, I wasn't allowed to touch his things. Yet Brielle wore that same T-shirt for years. On our second vacation, I wanted to go to the beach. They wanted to go hiking. Two votes to one again. That day on the mountain, Briel

For seven years, I've been dating Celeste Monroe, a CEO who never keeps her promises. Every time we make plans, she's either late or doesn't show up at all. The first time, her newly hired male assistant, Grady Keller, lost an important contract. I waited at the restaurant until closing, had my food reheated three times, and never heard a word from her. The second time, Grady called to say he was lost. Celeste was already downstairs when she got the call, but I sat through the entire movie without ever seeing her. After that, whenever Celeste and I had plans alone, Grady would suddenly have some kind of emergency. She would disappear without a word, then laugh it off afterward and promise

door, my feet padding against the earth as I make a beeline for the road. I have my passport in my back pocket, and some cash that could last me a few days. Taking a sharp corner the road turns narrow as the asphalt slowly piles up into muddy ground. I know I always ran from anywhere I called home for years, but it’s for the best. The train station comes into view as clatters of people moving around fills my ears, the loud buzz of the train as I head down the stairs to the counter. I hate this. I shouldn't have gone to that club, I should never have listened to Jesse. “Where to miss?” the fair skinned lady behind the counters asks, her eyes piercing my skin. Most likely my neck as I look li

After deciding to leave, I went to the Blacknight Pack's municipal office to submit my withdrawal application. "Ms. Holt," the clerk said carefully, "once you leave the pack, you'll lose all pack protection and will never be allowed to rejoin. Are you sure about this?" "I'm sure." When I stepped out of the building, a notification popped up on Instagram. "Thank you for being there for me when I'm at my weakest!" The photo beneath it showed the snowy scenery of Bhador and Mason wrapping a scarf around Eira.

"And we have done so by implementing the new 'Phoenix' protocol—a system that ensures no single ego can ever jeopardize our production again." William lowered his head and walked away, the heavy pallet still in his arms. He was a ghost in her world now. Late that night, William sat on the edge of his narrow bed in the cramped rental. The walls were thin, and he could hear the muffled sounds of the city outside. His phone—a cheap, burner model—vibrated on the nightstand. It was a notification from a news app. “Socialite Serena V. Deported and Charged with Grand Larceny; Assets Seized.”

I shouted and yanked my arms away from them. "The days we gave you have expired. Where is the money you borrowed from us?" questioned the goon. My heart started racing because I didn't know what to say. Since I withdrew the money from my bank, it has been taken by someone I don't know. And we haven't heard anything from it since that day. "Wait!" I squirmed, attempting to get away, but they were too powerful. "Lady, stop fleeing from us. We let you borrow the money, and you agreed to return it on a specific date. Three days had passed, and you had continued to flee. Do you think we'd let you escape now?"

The prospect of starting anew in an unfamiliar place provided solace amidst the chaos of her emotions. Once they obtained the ticket, they moved through the airport with purpose, avoiding unnecessary attention. The man's experience allowed them to navigate the busy terminals and security checkpoints seamlessly, minimizing the risk of being recognized or questioned. As they neared the departure gate, the man stopped and turned to Shyra, his eyes filled with concern and determination. " Shyra, before you go, I want you to remember that running away won't solve all your problems. It may offer temporary relief, but eventually, you'll have to confront the pain you're trying to escape."

I burst into the final car. It was empty. Just a single seat, red velvet, the vein pulsing beneath it like a heartbeat. On the seat: the ticket, red, glowing. ONE-WAY, PLATFORM 1918. VALID FOR ONE SOUL. Marisol stood beside it, no longer smiling. “The city needs a heart. You’re it. Sit, and the others live. Run, and the city drowns. Again.” I stared at the ticket. My hand trembled. Then I heard it—above, faint but real: