Thirty-three Thousand Novels & Stories

The romantic wedding venue fell into stunned silence. The hands of friends and family that had been raised in anticipation of applause froze awkwardly in midair. Claire Sullivan looked up at me, shock written all over her face. "Nathan Brooks?" Instead of blaming me, she grabbed my hand at once, worry filling her eyes. "What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" I looked at her quietly. She was exactly the same as I remembered. For thirty years, she had always been like this with me.

Blake scanned my face and I could tell he wanted to say something else. “What is it?” I asked him, panicking. “Nothing it's nothing. Let’s eat". “Is she here?” I whispered as we walked up to the pit. “Oh god no" Blake laughed “they hate each other". “Not that much to have three kids" I muttered as Stacey waved to me.

3333 yells. “I told you! We need to distract them. Jump down with me! We can lead them away from 3222 and 3111. If half, follow we can defeat them and come back for the rest. Then 3111 and 3222 can help us!” 3333 looks at me and then up above. I can tell he is thinking something over and I can tell by his face- this isn’t going to be good for me.

Charlotte asked, forcing herself to speak. Almost immediately, she regretted it. Ethan held up three fingers. That couldn't mean three hundred—it had to be thirty thousand.

Right as they dragged me away, he told his assistant to buy Sofia an eighty-million-dollar yacht. Eighty million—more than enough to save me. Tears blurred everything. I still smiled. Fine. Now Lorenzo and I were finally free.

I kiss the blonde on the lips and slap the ass of the brunette as they usher themselves out. I stand and pour myself a whiskey. “You have thirty seconds, Yetti,” I say without turning around, “to tell me what you want before my fist comes crashing down on your face.” “We agreed you'd never call me that.”. I smiled into the glass. “We agreed on a lot of things you didn’t bother keeping when it suited you. Twenty five seconds.” He steps further into the room, trying to look at anywhere else that isn't my naked chest. I watch him approach. To strangers, he’s the ruthless tech billionaire the tabloids built.

He didn't even care that he broke three ribs himself. And yet, this very man who seemed to love me more than life itself had lied to me for 30 years. I closed my eyes and forced down the suffocating wave of emotions surging inside me. Then, under his worried gaze, I pulled my hand back and said expressionlessly, "Let's break up." His eyes widened, and his lips turned pale. "What?" He hurriedly grabbed me, so anxious that he even started stammering. His eyes darted around, filled with unease.

His fingers twitched against my chest. “Three hundred,” I said, as clearly as I could through the tightness in my throat. It came out raspy, and he flinched. “Three hundred. To — lick your lip. Think of it as a kiss if it makes you feel better. And then I’ll walk away.”