The Waiting Room Object Show Novels & Stories

Alliyah Agustin thought her life was finally falling into place. She was about to marry her long-time boyfriend, Chester — the man she’d built her dreams around, the man everyone envied her for. The venue gleamed with gold, the air smelled of white roses, and her so-called best friend, Kassandrah, stood by her side as maid of honor. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t. When the ceremony began, Chester was nowhere to be found. In his place stood a stranger — dark suit, darker eyes, a smirk that didn’t belong anywhere near an altar. The crowd murmured, the priest hesitated, and before she could even process what was happening, the papers were signed. She had just married Alexander Nicholas Astley, one of the most powerful billionaires in the country — and the most feared man in the underground world. What Alliyah didn’t know was that her “perfect” fiancé and “trusted” friend had sold her — a deal made to clear a debt, sealed with her hand in marriage. And in the dangerous world she was dragged into, her survival would depend on one impossible question: Was Alexander her captor… or her savior?

It was when the officiant took his name Serena knew she was getting married to a replaced groom whom she never met before. "You lied to me! I'm someone else's wife, you…", as soon as Denzel heard her saying it blood rushed to his veins. Squeezing her cheeks he looked into her eyes angrily,"Since the moment we got married you belong to me, you are mine so don't ever say that again if you don't want this night to be our first night!" Denzel Anderson, a cold-blooded mafia. He chose to marry her for his plan but when he was going to let go, he caged her in his own cave. She became his possession, his obsession and the reason for his death but he never intended to let her go even if he was to die.

Working in the Sex Industry isn't always what it's cut out to be. Some find love, like to cause chaos and others just simply try to get away with murder. = Six lives, one book and an endless rollercoaster of fun! = --- Amar lowers our hands, removing the gun from my grasp and he waits for Vanko to re-enter the room, passing him the murder weapon to dispose of. I feel Amar turn away from me and I turn to face him, wrapping my hand around his arm. When he comes to a halt and looks down at my hand, "What now?" I ask him. "You are free to leave." He says as he elevates his gaze to mine, staring me directly in the eyes.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

Alex doesn’t do complications, especially not the kind that come with a smoking hot, cocky, openly bi roommate who sleeps shirtless and looks like temptation personified. He’s straight and he has a girlfriend and sharing a dorm room with Seth Carter was never supposed to mean sharing anything else. But when one drunken mistake turns into an unforgettable night, the boundaries blur fast. Now Alex can’t stop thinking about the way Seth looks at him or the way he felt when Seth touched him like no one else ever has. Seth isn’t asking Alex to figure it all out. But he’s not about to play dirty little secret, either. And the more Alex tries to run from the truth, the more it hunts him down.

The very first thing I do after I come back to life is find a pig and get married to it. In my past life, I was on the brink of getting engaged to my lover of ten years, Anthony Warner, who was a regimental colonel. In order to celebrate my engagement, Hannah Larson, my cousin, gave me a bracelet, and since it was a thoughtful gift from her, I wore it all the time. Yet, on our engagement day, Anthony didn't just call off our engagement, but he also berated me, calling me a tramp and a homewrecker who destroyed his relationship with Hannah. I was completely at a loss and tried to defend myself, but Hannah suddenly stepped forward and burst out crying. "I know my family and educational background surpass yours, but you can't just ruin my relationship with Anthony out of jealousy, Natalie! Anthony and I have already made a lifelong commitment to each other, so please just let it go!" Anthony turned and led Hannah away. They then got engaged shortly afterward. I was left standing there, becoming the subject of gossip from my relatives. They called me a shameless home-wrecker, and their scorn extended to my parents, who were shamed for raising such a child. They eventually took their own lives from all the rumors, and I couldn't bear the pain of losing them, so I ended myself, too. I suddenly open my eyes and find myself returning to the day Hannah presents me with the bracelet.

On the day I was supposed to swap marriages with my sister, Sylvia Hayes, I chose to be a battalion commander's wife instead. Then, watching Sylvia wither away from late-stage stomach cancer until she was nothing but skin and bones, a few strange lines suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Great news! The heroine is about to be reborn!] [What a joke. What good is being an officer's wife? That scumbag will take his mistress to live on base with him, leaving her to starve in that old house!] [After she's reborn, she should pick Miles Williams, the steel factory director! He secretly kept her photo and loved her his whole life!] Miles, the husband Sylvia used to mock as 'nothing but a money-grubbing brute,' was holding a tin cup, trying to give her water. Sylvia suddenly grabbed his wrist, her bulging eyes boring into me. "Laura Hayes...you had food saved up. Why wouldn't you help me?!" She died with her finger pointed at me. Miles' jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles in his cheeks bulged, and then he suddenly lunged forward and wrapped his hands around my throat. When I opened my eyes again, the room's blackened mud walls were hung with an old, faded calendar.

After returning from studying abroad, I prepared to honor my childhood betrothal. But on the very day I went to pick up my wedding gown, I saw my million-dollar couture dress worn by a poverty-stricken girl whom my fiancé had been secretly supporting. When I demanded the gown back, I was scolded as a homewrecker and mocked as a loveless hag. My fiancé excused her, saying the girl had never seen the world, and I should be more accommodating. Well, I've always loved charity. If giving away a million-dollar dress counts as charity, then fine—I'll even let go of the engagement, too. But let it be known: not just anyone can be engaged to the Vance heiress.

Harley has always been one who had been by herself. With no sense of interacting with others she finds comfort in her personal space. When she's left with no choice but to get a roommate to share her apartment. What happens when a silly misunderstanding on the rent-an-appart app gets her mistaken for a boy and her supposed roommate, Grey Wilson for a girl. Not only is she infuriated by this mistake, she learns that Grey Wilson is more than he lets out on, the son of famous billionaire.

At our wedding ceremony, the four-year-old nephew of my fiance, Michael Thompson, suddenly rushes onto the stage. He grabs his uncle's hand and cries, "Daddy, why are you marrying another woman? Don't you want me and Mommy anymore?" Seeing this, Lisa Jenner quickly runs over to intervene. She sounds apologetic, but her words are slightly provocative. "I'm so sorry, Sarah. Danny lost his father when he was little and has always seen Michael as his dad. He didn't mean to cause trouble." Even Michael remains completely calm as he picks up Danny. He explains to me, "Before David passed away, he made me promise to take care of his widow and child. I only let Danny call me 'Daddy' so he could have a normal childhood. You understand, right?" As I look at the three of them, standing there like the perfect family, I laugh coldly and rip off my veil. "This poor child has been through so much. How could I possibly steal his dad away? "You know what? Why don't I just let Lisa take my place up here? Then you can have your happy little family of three."