Twenty-five Twenty-one Mga Nobela at Kwento

After the commotion subsided, Howard's cold voice echoed from the video. "Marlena! Stop with your schemes. Can't you see how terrified Sue is? I'll deal with you later for hiring people to kidnap her." The video went silent for a few minutes after that. Suddenly, one of the thugs exploded with rage, landing a punch squarely on Xander's temple and yelling hysterically, "That idiot only gave us 20 million and left us with these two useless burdens! What are we supposed to do now?" The suppressed, suffocating tension of violence erupted in the factory all at once.

Chapter 52: Roles ───── ❝ R U B Y F R I D A Y ' S P O V ❞ ──── ║ Gregorian Calendar ║ 02 - 25 - 2027 ║ ║ Wednesday║ (D - 1) Before the Commencement of Olympia's Cup║

“Twenty.” “Twenty-five,” Cake said without hesitation. The handler pointed toward her. “Twenty-five million from Mrs. Vescari.” A few heads turned. Someone countered. “Thirty.” “Forty,” Cake replied. Enzo leaned slightly toward me. “She likes it,” he murmured. Clearly. The numbers continued to climb. “Forty-five.” “Fifty.” The handler lifted his gavel slightly.“Fifty million. Going once —” Cake leaned toward me briefly. “I might owe you a few million,” she whispered.

Twenty. At twenty I could breathe a little better. Nathan was looking up at me with his big eyes. He didn't care about videos or Ethan or my jealousy. He just wanted his dad to take care of him. So that's what I did. Twenty one. Twenty two. Twenty three. I warmed a bottle and fed him while I kept counting in my head. Twenty four. Twenty five. Twenty six. Nathan drank his milk and made little happy sounds. Twenty seven. Twenty eight. Twenty nine. Thirty.

_____ But then, Anita got carried away. The night had wrapped around her like silk — warm, thrilling, intoxicating. With the pounding music and the swirl of laughter, time had become a blur. She had planned to leave by midnight, just enough time to return, sleep for a few hours, and be presentable for the early morning church service Grandma Janet insisted on. But midnight came and went. So did 1 a.m., 2 a.m., and 3. It wasn’t until few minutes to 5 a.m. that Valerie, slightly more sober and ever the lookout, clutched Anita’s arm and said urgently, “Girl, you need to go. Now.”

Bright

I’m not unwanted. By the time the amount surpasses twenty million dollars, I feel like I’m on cloud nine. I forget all my worries and anxieties. I even forget what my mother said. The cards are less frequent now, which is usually what happens. Only three cards are up by the time he says twenty-seven, and then only one is up when he says twenty-eight. “There it is—” he starts to say, but is interrupted by a voice in the crowd. “Forty-five.”

Lyra’s wrist still burned where the Veilkeeper mark glowed faintly. “That moon…” Cael said quietly. “Tell me I’m not seeing things.” “You’re not,” Lyra answered. Above them, the familiar moons drifted in their usual patterns, glowing silver and pale blue across the darkness. For centuries, scholars had studied their movements. Priests had written songs about them. The Veilkeepers had drawn power from their alignment. Twenty moons. Always twenty. But now, far beyond the others, a dim, pale sphere hovered like a ghost. A twenty-first moon.

According to the address, I’m going to the fifteenth floor. When I reach apartment number twenty-two, a very tall guy in a tight black sweater opens the door. Along with the Roman numeral five tattoo, a series of large and small tattoos runs across his skin. The sweater clings tightly, outlining every muscle. When I react, his eyes are no longer hazel. Streaks of sensuality flood his irises, turning black as night. He stands still, devouring me with his gaze, taking his time. “Hi, Estela!… you look beautiful… come in, come in,” he invites, stepping aside.

Already moving to the stove to get more work done. “So you are saying you didn’t save any for me? Even if you didn’t save for Damian, there is no way you didn’t save for me. I am your favorite,” Rowan said. “And who said you are my favorite? I don’t play favorites,” Mima told him. I chuckle. “it seems my mood is a bit brightened—even though I didn’t get to have any cream bun.” “It’s going to be okay, wild one.” Mima said looking directly at me.