Thirty-three Thousand Novels & Stories

Would he have been able to? Day thirty of thirty. Zero to go.

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.

"And how much is his fee?" "Thirty million dollars."

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.

“Three thousand and three hundred and thirty-three years old.” I blinked. See, my mind was at its lowest point right then. I had mental breakdowns about four times that day and I just experienced the shittiest shit ever in my life. So, excuse me, because I needed to process the numbers a bit longer. But Alexander shamelessly pointed out how slow my brain was. He flicked his finger on my forehead. “Your brain just crashed?” Deep laughter rumbled from his throat. “Shut up!” “It’s 3333.”

he says sharply. “I was trying to help you,” I reply smoothly. “This will never work,” he snaps. “First an engagement, now we are getting married in thirty days?” “We just need act like it’s going to happen,” I counter. “For the meantime, I will be staying here because I might or might not have mentioned that we are very in love, so we do have to appear very in love.” His shoulders tense. He looks like he wants to either strangle me or maybe kiss me again.

Three times. Slowly.