The Wrong Mr Right Novels & Stories

But as I closed my eyes against his chest, my phone buzzed again with a new notification. This message wasn’t from the public. It was from an unknown number. The message was short, but it sent ice down my spine. It read, “You just made the biggest mistake of your life.” Attached was a single photo, it was taken from outside the penthouse window just last night. It showed Cameron and me standing by the couch, still half-dressed, holding each other right after Joe had been dragged away. The caption underneath read: “Next time we won’t knock. And next time, we won’t miss.”

That shouldn’t have been possible, and yet it sat in front of me like something undeniable, something no explanation or time could soften anymore. My fingers curled slightly at my side, not in anger, but in something quieter, more contained—like my entire reaction had been pulled inward instead of outward. “What did you do when you noticed it?” I asked. Mr. Pitt let out a slow breath before answering, his voice heavier than before. “I contacted Alpha Adrien, to tell him there was a mistake in the result provided, but he never answered my calls.” “So you stayed silent,” I said quietly, the words not rising as a question but settling as fact.

"Don Lorenzo is still so in love with his wife." "Everyone knows Mrs. Moretti is a world-class cellist. Any family that appreciates the arts would admire her." ... "Next item: a replica of Mozart's original manuscript…" The spotlight hit the stage. A tall woman in a skin-tight red dress sauntered out, holding a beautiful display case. It was Vanessa. She smiled at the crowd, showing off the item. I felt Lorenzo's body go rigid beside me. His expression was stiff, his eyes darting away from the stage.