Widow Of The South Book Novels & Stories

"The security droids are idling. The loop is holding, but the core processor is starting to purge the memory. You have three minutes before the house wakes up." "I don't need three minutes," Dante replied. I heard the muffled thud of a flash-bang from the floor above, followed by the rhythmic, clinical pop-pop of his suppressed .45s. He wasn't auditing; he was clearing the ledger. I reached the server vault a chamber of pulsing crimson light that looked like the interior of a heart. And there, sitting in a high-backed chair of spun glass, was the discrepancy I had been hunting. The Widow. She didn't look like a ghost. She looked like a queen in exile. Her hair was a shock of silver, pulled b

The sound made my stomach drop. I scrambled back until my spine hit the headboard. “Who are you?” I demanded, even though fear had already started creeping into my bones. “Why are you in my house?” One of them looked around slowly, his gaze dragging over the room before settling on me. “So you’re the widow,” he said. My throat went dry. “You need to leave this house right away.” He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Your house isn’t yours anymore.” My pulse quickened. “What do you mean? What do you want?”

His dead body was laid on the floor covered with a white sheet with people surrounding him and a woman over his chest as she wept like a woman who is sincerely in vain at his departure. While me. I sat out of all those people away from the body leaning back to the pillar with my legs cuddled to my chest, my hands around my legs as I looked at her with zero expression as the tear strains on my cheeks itched. I'm outcasted from his people while I'm his wife. I don't understand anything. I was married just yesterday and I became a widow today. And no one came to console me but strangely three women who are his mother, aunt, and sister were consoling that particular woman while I am staring at t

"I didn't wait to hear the rest. I turned and walked away. My heart was already dead. There wasn't even any pain left. I led my pup out through the back door. The hinges creaked softly, but no one heard. Behind us, the cheers grew louder, and brilliant fireworks burst across the sky. The ceremony was complete. I could imagine Regulus' expression in that moment. He'd abandoned his wife and pup, even faked his own death, and finally gotten everything he wanted. I kept walking, holding the pup as we left the estate behind. From this moment on, we would never see him again.

I fell in love so hard I found it impossible to stand back up. We had our wedding in no time. Angelina made sure of it. "Don't lose this perfect man," she sang continously. Oh, what a big mistake! I trusted him so much that I switched the name on all the inheritance my father left me to his. Sean Keller on it all. It belonged to him as much as it belonged to me. Until a month after our wedding. He had come home drunk and reeking of another woman's scent. When I asked him about it, he hit me on the face and beat me until I lost my baby.

No man has ever managed to awaken the passionate side of me again. I just hope that when I’m old and gray, my daughter will finally forgive me. She’s the only one I have left, and I couldn’t even attend her wedding because I wasn’t invited. From what I know, she’s been married for almost a year now. I wonder how she’s doing. Is she pregnant already? I’d be so happy if she were. I turned my head when I heard someone greet me. It was one of my neighbors. I waved back and greeted her, too. She’s also a widow like me and lives alone. Actually, all of us living in this small area are widows, and our neighbors call our block the “Widows’ Web.” Whatever! They have no idea what we went through after

Every move was calculated, every word measured. Slowly, a picture began to form. The Widow was not just a woman; she was a network, a phantom with many faces. Some whispered she had once been Lorenzo’s secret protégé, hidden away in the shadows. Others claimed she was a widow of one of the fallen dons, driven by vengeance. Whoever she was, she was bold enough to challenge Amara directly. And Amara, in turn, began to weave her own web. She spread false whispers, dangled bait in the form of false shipments, and watched carefully to see where The Widow’s soldiers would strike.

As much as she rejoiced at how he became more concerned about her welfare, her anger only grew. How dare he act like he cared about Mavis when he divorced her ruthlessly years ago. He forced her to sign the divorce papers despite Mavis being pregnant and sick. That mere thought grounded Hestia even more, her inner self growing more and more impatient in watching Grayson and the Charters’ downfall. A week later, Hestia found herself in the middle of winter. Anywhere her eyes looked, snow was all she could see. The biting cold did not spare her despite the thick jacket, scarf, and furry boots she wore.

"Stop kidding yourself! We got married because of a promise, not love. I thought Elliot couldn't accept you. Turns out, you're the one who couldn't accept him. This is the only way to make it right." Seeing Randall about to lose everything, his parents softened. "For the sake of all these years as a family, forgive him this once. Please." "Yeah, he really does love you." Olivia looked at them, and for a brief second, she thought of Elliot's mom. She had once promised that woman she would take care of Elliot for the rest of her life. She had called her "Mom" and meant it. In the end, she was the one who got her killed. Olivia's voice turned colder. "That's enough. I'm divorcing him. He doesn'

His expression darkened as he glared at me. My father spoke up first. “Nancy, is this how we raised you? “Anna is an orphan. Even her husband passed away three years ago. How could you be so cruel?” Likewise, my mother looked at me with open reproach. “Being a widow already invites gossip. Are you doing this on purpose?”