Vow Notebook Novels & Stories

The first thing I noticed was the notebook. Soft leather. Ivory-colored. Elegant but simple. My fingers brushed across the cover, and my heart skipped when I saw the gold foil lettering pressed perfectly into the surface. A.D. My initials. How were they able to do that! I slowly opened it, running my thumb along the thick cream pages. The paper felt expensive…smooth, almost silky. The kind of notebook you wouldn’t want to ruin with messy sketches. The kind that made you want to draw something worthy of it.

A deep, husky voice reached my ears. “Who is this?” I jerked up from the bed, fully awake. “Mr. Quin, you called me.” Huh? In reflex, I looked at my screen, and the caller name was saved as “Mr. Smith The Hard Core.” I struggled to remember how I got the number and where. My attention was suddenly drawn to the long tube inserted in my hand.

I give him a slow, deliberate smile and a sharp wink. I’ve got this, husband. Konstantin stares at me for a beat, his hands resting flat on the table. A dark amusement flickers in his eyes, though his face remains stone. He leans in just an inch, his voice washing over my ear. “What is the notebook for, zhenshchina?” “Just some notes, Mr. Morozov,” I murmur, keeping my eyes fixed forward as the projector screen flickers to life. “I like to keep track of the details.”

But the subject line froze me in place: You are cordially invited… My chest constricted as I opened it. The email was simple, elegant, clinical in its cruelty. An invitation to a wedding. Not just any wedding. Their wedding. Zane Blackwood and Sera Voss. The date was set. It was five days from now.

It was the total opposite of the look I gave when I stepped out and found them prepping for my wedding. Time moved forward, but I felt completely out of sync. By the time I got to class, I was still in a fog. I stared blankly at my professor while he lectured about—actually, I couldn’t even tell you. My notebook was open, pen in hand… but I wrote absolutely nothing. It felt like my thoughts were walled off, locked inside a room I couldn’t open.

Paolo sat with his back to the camera. Probably crying. I clicked out, not wasting another second on his meltdown. Next to me, Marco lifted his phone. He slid my hand onto his waist, grinning. "Aurora, I put in hours at the gym yesterday. Wanna see the results?" My fingers traced his side, feeling the shiver ripple through him. I smiled, kissing my way down.

Juliet sneered, "With your stuff? If you can manage not to make us lose too badly, I'll be grateful." With that, Juliet gathered his papers and left the room. With the department head gone, the others saw no reason to stay either. Serena remained seated, unfazed. She casually sketched in her notebook. In no time, a simple yet elegant blueprint emerged. Anyone witnessing this would surely be amazed. It was a stroke of genius—each effortless line a masterpiece. In the CEO's office, Damien was repeatedly reviewing the documents in his hand, feeling that something was missing, a significant flaw.

And there he was again. The same face. The same observer. The same silent presence. Richard frowned. "Do you recognize him?" Elena shook her head. "No." But Victor clearly had. Which meant the notebook mattered. She reached for it. The cover was worn. The pages filled with notes. Dates. Locations. Names. Observations. Nothing organized enough to function as evidence. Everything organized enough to function as a map. She turned pages slowly. Several entries referenced meetings. Others referenced companies. A few contained handwritten warnings.

I reached for the one thing that had been mine since the beginning: the Void. I didn't target the monster. I targeted the space between his hand and Leo’s throat. I focused all my hate, all my memories of being a maid, and all the pain of the silver blade Sasha had put in my back. "Delete!" I shrieked. A hole of pure nothingness opened in the air. It didn't hurt Leo, but it erased the First Alpha's grip. Leo fell, hitting the soft grass with a thud. He was unconscious, but he was breathing.

I murmured under my breath. Several folders later, I finally found what I had been looking for. Voss, Isabella. My heartbeat instantly accelerated. "Please don't be another dead end." I opened the file carefully. The first page contained only basic information. Name: Isabella Voss. Position: Household Tutor. Duration of Service: Four years. I quickly turned the page. The next several documents contained routine information. There were performance reports, payment records, schedules, and administrative notes. Nothing about them seemed unusual. Then I reached the final section and my eyes widened.