Times-tribune E Edition Today Novels & Stories

I spent the rest of that afternoon with Dean, who’s also in a broody mood, with him finishing the tattoo on my right arm before returning to my office. I open the door and sigh when I see that the papers from earlier are still scattered all over the floor. I quickly pick them up, and by the time I finish the reports, I realize I missed dinner. Never mind, it’s not like I have much of an appetite or want to be around people these days.

POV: Nichole The morning news arrived as Elena brought them in a plastic grocery bag, her hands shaking so hard the cheap handles rattled. She dropped three local tabloids onto the wooden table. "It is all over the digital boards too, Nichole," Elena whispered, stepping back toward the door as if the papers might explode. "Mira paid the lifestyle editors and they run it every fifteen minutes." I leaned over the table and the front page of The City Ledger carried a giant, grainy photograph of me from three years ago. The headline was printed in thick, black ink written

"We are planning Dee's surprise party and we'd love it if you offered a hand!" Shit! I almost forgot. "Wednesday evening is perfect. Is that okay?" Amira and Darren nod. We talk some more and I wave them goodbye and shut the laptop when I hear the doorbell ringing. It's the newspaper vendor. I pay for the paper and sink on the couch to read it, as I do on each weekend. Since I don't watch the news much, i prefer to be updated by the Weekend Special newspaper. I peruse through the newspaper and I'm startled to see Ren's picture on the fifth page with a headline that reads,

{MIA} This morning, as I woke up, my thoughts were focused on one thing: my impending conversation with Corvan. The anticipation of finally getting the chance to talk to him after his recovery had me eager to find answers to all the questions on my mind. After rolling out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom and indulged in a refreshing bath to start the day on the right note. Emerging from the bathroom feeling revitalized, i took the time to pamper my skin. My skincare routine, although simple, consisted of applying a nourishing face serum followed by a hydrating moisturizer, ensuring my skin was well taken care of.

Even as I asked, part of me didn't want to know the answer. "It's everywhere, Mr. Sinclair," his voice cracked on my name, and I heard what sounded like a stifled sob. "It's completely all over the internet, and every major Texas news outlet has been running it on a loop since about eight-thirty. The company... Sinclair Global is in massive trouble, Sir."

They were shocked inside, but they couldn't deny there really was a big chance. Amelia turned sideways and unzipped her backpack, then raised a newspaper: "I'm sure you all aren't strangers to this newspaper." "Chicago Tribune!" The one who spoke up was an old man who even shook when he drank water. His cloudy eyes got a bit excited whenever he looked at the newspaper. After all, that meant a period of time. Amelia laughed, "That's right, it's the 'Chicago Tribune.' Looks like not all the old folks forgot some of the things they did with Craig."

“Can you fill me in?” “TheTimes. Look at the fuckingTimes.” She moans. “Oh, our lives are over. How could you do this to us?” I don’t answer, putting her on speaker while I grab my laptop and type in the newspaper’s website. It’s a local Crown Point paper that runs print and digital. I think my mom gets their emails just in case I ever did anything impressive enough to warrant a screenshot—or, worse, for her to find a printed copy and carefully cut out the article or photo that mentioned me.

But I also know that lying in the dark pretending I don’t feel what I feel is getting harder every single day and at some point the effort of not saying it is going to cost more than just saying it. I fall asleep somewhere around 2 AM with no decision made and wake up at 7 to six news alerts on my phone. The headlines are worse than I expected. Not dramatic, front page worse. Quiet, specific worse. The kind that tells you someone with real power made a real move. Knight Corporation doesn’t just cut ties with Hale Industries. It

Lol. Checking the screen of the tablet Robert handed me, I saw it bold and clear: The Daily Times newspaper. Underneath the header, I saw the publication about me: “Matriarch Alessandra Confirms the Claims of Mr. Tyler Harrington. What is really happening?” Yes, the caption is perfect because, in the real sense, 'what is really happening?' I've said it before, and I will say it again: Tyler was someone I thought was very intelligent when we were still married.

~Katia~ Sam walked in at five forty-seven. I knew from her face before she said a word. I had been in the middle of reviewing the final Grand Prix logistics—paddock access, sponsor placements, and the security sweep schedule for tomorrow morning—and I looked up and read her expression and put the tablet down. "Show me," I said. She turned her phone toward me. The New York Ledger. Investigative column. Front page digital edition, posted at five fourteen PM.