The Woman From That Night Novels & Stories

Remembering that we were close friends before we decided to marry each other, I didn't expect us to be brothers-in-law now. "Okay, sorry, but can you please call Adam? I'm really begging you. If Adam isn't here, I'll probably be a name tomorrow," I pleaded. "Yes, Miss, I will call Mr. Adam." The woman walked away. As she disappeared behind the wall, I caught sight of a black car that had just pulled into the driveway. Shortly afterward, Gavin appeared to get out of the vehicle. I paused. How could that man have come so early? Seeing as I was already awake, could his next move be to kill me? No, I can't die here. I can't give my life to that man.

“No.” Her eyes tightened, and she began to turn from me but I stopped her. I cupped her face, my thumb running against her bottom lip. “You were a full-blown collision,” I said with as much conviction as I could convey. She was so much more than a mere impression. “And I’m still reeling from the aftershocks. Nothing in my life has been right since that night, Natasha.” She drew in a ragged breath, the wetness clearing from her eyes. She held up her glass. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

A waiter appears. I take two glasses. “Mr. Knight!” A woman approaches. “Diana Morrison.” Adrian’s hand tightens on my waist. “Mrs. Morrison.” “And this must be the famous Zara. The photos were quite intimate.” “We’re very happy,” I say. “I’m sure.” She leaves. “That’s the woman whose project fired you,” Adrian says. “I know. We’re here to survive tonight. Not fight old battles.” We circulate. Then I see him.

---------------- “These are photographs captured through the security cameras that night, at the Royal Winder’s Dinner. 10:47 pm.” I stared hard and long at the couple of photos spread on my table. One in which I was present. At the exact time a woman had suddenly bumped into me, which is intriguing, actually. As I scanned each photo, it was clear the woman had deliberately crashed her body onto me, so as to distract me or something. I wasn’t sure, however, if she really was drunk at the same time. “Who is she?” “Her name is Barbara Devine. Daughter of the current gamma in the Blue Mountains Pack.” Nick instantly announced.

“Stalking me in the middle of the night? You refused to take my number earlier and now look at you, that ugly face at my doorstep" My face scrunched in confusion as I peeked through the crack in the door, watching their little drama unfold. The woman folded her arms and scoffed. "I thought moles couldn't see at night, but look at you - forcing your half - blind self to stalk me all the way home. Should I clap or call animal control?" I froze. Wait. That voice… She was the same woman from the gala — the one Ian had mistaken for me earlier. “I— I’m sorry—” Ian began.

Or simply possession? When the gala finally ended, when the last glass was cleared and the lights dimmed, I slipped out into the night air, lungs heaving. James followed, his coat draped over his arm. “You held your ground,” he said. “But she’s not playing small anymore. Tonight was her opening act.” I stared out at the city, glittering and cold. My reflection in the hotel’s glass doors looked pale, fierce, haunted. “She can come at me all she wants,” I said, though my voice wavered. “But dragging Clara into this…” My throat closed. “That I won’t forgive.”

"But the problem is, she didn't run away, because I asked for them to check on her and she's still with the others. Why would she have been out if she wasn't trying to run away?” “Maybe she realized she wouldn’t make it out and gave up.” I said as I leaned back in my chair. "Or she was distracted by something.” At his words I took the tab again and looked at the woman's face trying to see if I could remember the woman from last night but I didn't. Nothing clicked. “So you're saying she's the woman from last night?" I asked, “She could be, but we're not certain because you told us not to put any cameras in the death zone and everyone knows that nobody is permitted to enter that hallway, so we

Realizing I wouldn't budge, his tone sharpened as he tried to persuade me again. "If you won't answer it, I will!" I pushed his hands away and made a move to get out of bed to head for the door. Yet, he abruptly seized me, attempting to forcefully shove me into the bathroom. I tried to break free from his hold, but the difference in strength between us was overwhelming. As he was about to force me inside, the front door was kicked open from the outside. The very next second, a young woman in a white dress stormed in with several netizens, who were holding up their phones and livestreaming everything. The young woman was the original poster herself, a third-year medical student named Elowen J

Vancouver's winter was wet, gray, and quiet. I loved it for that. I rented a small apartment near the harbor, close enough for Mia to count sailboats from the kitchen window. The building smelled faintly of rain, coffee, and old wood. No armed guards stood in the lobby. No black cars idled at the curb. No one lowered their voice when I entered a room because I was Luca Moretti's wife. For the first week, I still checked the peephole before opening the door. I slept badly and woke at every elevator chime. When Mia coughed in the night, my whole body went cold before I remembered we were not in Chicago anymore.

"For now. But the winter wedding is still happening, Jordan. Our families already cleared the map. Just make sure whatever asset you’re isolating in the dark doesn't become a liability in the daylight." She opened the heavy door, her silk dress sweeping the threshold, but she paused, looking back over her shoulder one last time. Her eyes weren't angry; they were entirely satisfied, filled with the absolute certainty of a woman who had just found the missing discrepancy in the balance sheet. "Because she’s definitely not random," Tamara whispered into the quiet room, her voice a chilling promise that hung raw between them. "And I think you already know how expensive this little mistake is goi