Upton Sinclair Novels Novels & Stories

My phone buzzed, breaking the silence. Beatrice: Mr. Washington called again. He says he’s serious about seeing you. I swallowed hard and typed back: To Beatrice: Tell him I’m here when he is. The next morning, the city woke slower, as if it too was savoring the quiet before the inevitable storm. I slipped into my routine, the sleek black pants, the perfect blouse, the precise application of makeup that hid every trace of last night’s restless thoughts. Luxe demanded perfection, and perfection was a mask I wore well.

They don't seem to take me seriously at all, talk more of being intimidated. “Of course, you're not an easy target. How can the boss’s woman be an ordinary person? Lady Aurora, don't give your subordinates a hard time. Just follow us. If we end up dead because of you, that would be an injustice to us.” The one beside me says and winks at me. Just then, the car stops before mighty silver gates. The stone walls seem to reach up to heaven. Could this be a prison or a fortress? The gates open on their own after the driver lowered the glass, probably to enable some kind of facial recognition.

Maxwell’s POV Scarlett stepped back from the door, her eyes darting to mine with a mixture of curiosity and unease. I offered her a gentle smile, hoping to ease her nerves. Clay and I entered, glancing around the small, modest room. It was simple, far from the opulence she must have known in the South, but she seemed to find peace here. Her expression was calm, as if grateful for the small space and its quietude. She didn’t need luxury; she needed a haven.

But there was something there something delicate and tender hanging in the air, something that reminded her she wasn't alone anymore. Ignatius looked at her, his face relaxing in the quiet determination of her tone. There was such a fundamental honesty in what she said, such a truth that vibrated within him, even though he had not yet realized its full significance. For years, he had borne the weight of loneliness, believing that his history, his mistakes, had isolated him from all others. But there, standing beside Krishna, with children murmuring far away as they toiled, something within him stirred a comprehension, a thin hope.

More than anything, she was concerned about her friend. **** This book is sequel to the first book Innocence. You have to read the first book to know the story clearly. The first book "Innocence" is available here on my Goodnovel profile. And then comes the second book "Innocence || book 2". Thanks for reading. Please vote and comment :)

“I spent practically the whole night incapable of falling asleep, and for the short time that I was able to do so, I had a horrible nightmare.” “How could you not have bad dreams if you keep reading those kinds of books? Look at you, you're all blotchy and pale.” “I think I'd better stay and work from here, if I want to take a nap in any case, no one will interrupt me” “Ok my dear, I'm going to make you a protein breakfast so you can get your strength back.”

My heels clunk on the concrete ground as I hurried, while attempting to take a few sips of my water. I made it but just as I was about to open the door, a rough hand enclosed itself around my forearm. I spun around, coming face to face with Victor. This time, his expression was different. He seemed annoyed, a little deranged but most of all-the lust in his eyes was not the appealing kind.

I slipped past the front desk, headed straight for the back stacks—old reference books no one touched, dim corners, shelves tall enough to hide two people if they were careful. Hudson was already there. Leaning against the end of a row, one foot propped on the lowest shelf, scrolling his phone like he wasn’t waiting to make out in the middle of school. He looked up when he heard my footsteps. Pocketed his phone. Crooked a finger. I walked straight to him. He caught my wrist, tugged me behind the tallest shelf, pressed my back against the books. The smell of old paper and dust mixed with him—clean sweat, cedar, the faint leftover trace of last night.

In business, one’s hand must get dirty with blood to smell money. He stood up and turned to the bookshelves behind him. His fingers began to trace every book until he got to it. The one which he had replaced its contents with the documents. He had them stapled into the pages as though they were the real book. ‘The Weightiness of Guilt’ reads the title. It used to be his favorite book since he bought this estate. It had helped him a lot in navigating his guilt. Now, none of Sinclair’s men could break into his estate or get past the heavy security in it. None of them.

I had promised everyone that I would never use dark magic again and it was a promise I intended to keep. The silence was awkward so I went to the study as Caitlyn came downstairs, talking on the phone. Karani’s chest was standing on the floor next to my desk and I took the books from my desk and put them back in the chest. The cloak was upstairs in my cupboard and I decided to leave it there. I put the lid on the chest and it sealed itself. I hadn’t even read half of the books in there and I knew there was a lot that I didn’t know and probably should know. If I had known exactly what dark magic did would I still have used it? I probably would have.