Thirty Three Room Novels & Stories

“Thirty days to find a husband. That's insane, right? Tell me that's insane.” “It's certainly unconventional,” he allows, gently enough that I almost believe it's a kindness and not just a fact. “There is no approved list, no shortcut. It has to be real — filed, witnessed, provable if it's ever challenged, and given what's at stake, it will be challenged.” “Great,” I say. “On top of finding a husband in a month, I have to convince a courtroom it's real.” “I'm sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he means it, which is the only reason I don't cry right there in the chair that's too big for me.

A few moments later, the realtor returned carrying preliminary documents. He looked almost nervous. "There is one thing..." Marilyn looked over. "What?" The realtor laughed awkwardly. "I must admit, Miss Oxford, your taste is exceptional." She smiled. "Thank you." He rubbed the back of his neck. "This penthouse is actually the most expensive property we've shown today." Marilyn's smile disappeared. "What?" The realtor nodded. "The three-level design makes it considerably more valuable than the villas and even the waterfront mansion."

CHAPTER TWENTY -EIGHT: ROOM 313 The Grand Meridian Hotel had many secrets, but none as persistent as Room 313. It was a luxurious suite on the top floor. With a private terrace, huge windows overlooking the city skyline, a king-sized bed that cost more than most people’s monthly rent, and a bathroom with a marble tub big enough for two. The room was almost always booked, but never under the same name twice. Different credit cards. Different aliases. Always paid in advance. Always for one night a month.

Everything he said had been meant for my ears. I let out a long breath, then pushed my wheelchair into the apartment. Wilson immediately stood up and hurried over. "Liam, let me help you.” His movements were careful and attentive. Ruby hated seeing it. She glared at me with undisguised resentment. "We don’t have servants anymore in this modern era! You have perfectly good arms. Can't you push your own wheelchair?" She crossed her arms and sneered. "Honestly, I should've run over your hands too. Then you wouldn't be sitting here, pretending, just to make Wilson feel bad."

Me: How many are there? Tom: Thirty-two. My stomach dropped. Thirty-two. That was more than we could possibly fit at the Haven, with our current caseload, even if Lauren hired more staff. We’d need to remodel some of the spaces to make them into working bedrooms, as well as add more bathrooms, and there’d be zoning permits for that, and I’d need to find some kind of all-female construction company—

(Keep everyone in the stairwell until we say it’s all clear, or the reporters might get more on record than you want shown, eh? (What are you…) (Just do what I say) “Fuck he’s more argumentative than Rhett is,” she added to Cameron as she turned back. “Let’s go.” He held the door a little wider so that she could slip under his arm, and followed, letting it close behind them. Heath joined them. “Three rooms occupied on this level. First room, lots of beeping, and heavy breathing. Smells of sickness. Second room, someone crying. Third room several people, talking quietly.”

I explained indifferently. “But why, you?” Dave asked and then went quiet, so unusual. “So, anything about the shadow?” I cut through the silence. “No, the Manager there seemed to be awful, We can’t get past him, but at least we know which room number she went to all the time,” Dave spoke victoriously. “Which one?” I inquired. “333,” Dave replied. “Odd,” The first thought crossed my mind. “Yeah…” “Leave this to me, I’ll handle that Manager, okay?” I assured Dave.

‘Teddy Street, tallest building, room thirty-seven,’ Belle began to memorize after quickly having a change of mind. Belle found the building, and it was surprisingly easy to find like the girl said it would be. While she walked up the stairs, she checked the numbers on the doors, looking for room thirty-seven. After finding it was on the top floor, she slid the key into the keyhole, and with two turns it opened.

He had already taken a detour just to interrogate me, and now we were finally heading to Lucian’s room. At least, I hoped so. I glanced around, trying to distract myself. Damn, this place was massive. “How many rooms are in this house?” I asked, hoping to ease some of the tension. “Thirty-three.” I blinked. “That’s insane. Does everyone get to live here?” Tobias stopped and turned to glare at me over his shoulder. “Yes and no… uh… the pack house is divided into three wings: east, west, and north… You know what? Someone else will give you a tour later. I’m not in the mood for talking.”

Because I couldn’t see clearly, I couldn’t outrun anyone, so I had to wait until everyone else picked their rooms. In the end, only the thirtieth floor was left for me. Since I was practically blind, the live chat went off again: 【She’s so dead. Everyone knows the higher the floor, the stronger the boss.】 【Especially the thirtieth floor—it’s all top-level bosses. They call it the House of Death.】 When I reached the thirtieth floor, I looked around. Honestly, it didn’t seem that different from a normal apartment. The only differences were the stronger smell of blood, the red walls, the cold air, and the dim lights.