Wreck Game Novels & Stories

Eve said. She came to sit close to him, and she took his hand in hers. She smiled. "I really love your shirt." Elvin grinned. "Thanks. I was scared it wouldn't be your size." "So, the game we are playing, was it like the kind you and Lisa played?" Eve asked. Elvin slightly shook his head. "No. Yours is more complex. More arranged. Filled with more deception and seduction." Everybody was a pawn in this game. The entire city was like a board game. If Elvin tried to flee from her, Eve would lockdown the entire nation, and she knew the right people to call.

"Maybe you should. I will too. Then we can say for sure if you need to move on or not." She smiles, agreeing. Then she downs her drink and stands up. "Who wants to play a drinking gaaaame?" she screams from the top of her lungs out into the sky. I laugh, completely forgetting about the whole Matteo thing for a moment. When fragments of my dream start coming back into my consciousness, I am thankful for Isabella's idea. A drinking game is exactly what I need. *** Everyone joins us on the lower deck around a table we took from inside. Aurora and all of the people I don't know (except Isaac's friend who is also Pia's hookup) have gone to sleep.

He needed the physical confirmation that they were still alive in the wreck—that his body belonged to the enemy who had broken him, not the pact his father had signed in 2001. "Damien... *please*," Elias choked out, his hands flying to the older man's shoulders, his fingers sinking into the thick wool of his sweater with a desperate, animalistic hunger. "Tear it out of me. Before they hit the gate. Don't let them have a clean asset."

🌸 Author’s Note – Thank You From the Bottom of My Heart 🌸 I woke up this morning to see that Wreck Me Quietly had been added to 12 readers' libraries overnight. Twelve. That might not sound like much to some people, but to me… it’s everything.

And speaking of my Daryl, I wonder what he's doing right now? Did he cried when he heard of my death? I mean, I'm not asking for him to be lonely but at least, I think it's fine to think that someone was sad about my death. Someone felt that I was once a part of their lives and memoriee. Someone felt that Ayla Navarez existed, once in their life. And on the other hand, I hope Daryl is fine and would be able to start a new life after knowing that I'm gone.

“Bullet or my game, Michael. The choice is yours.” Reluctantly, he places his shaking hand on the table. “Good choice. Your life really isn’t worth refusing me. Now spread your fingers apart.” Michael spreads his fingers apart, his eyes glistening. Was the fucker gonna cry? I balance the tip of the knife along his hand. “I love this game.” I move the blade between his fingers while I stare right into his eyes. “You ever played it before? It’s got many names: the knife game, pin finger, nerve, bishop, knife fingers and, my favorite, five-finger fillet.”

“Lucas, stop doing this to me. All these for what? For that girl, you picked me from God knows where? You suddenly ghosted me and then came back with a girl and you even went ahead to get married to her. Lucas, you are wicked” “You are really funny, Emily. The last time I checked you had a boyfriend, right? Where is he right now? Why did he break up with you when he saw how troublesome and demanding you are?” She was quiet for some minutes but I didn't end the call because I wanted to hear what she had to say. “Lucas, I know that I wronged you, okay? I am sorry. You and I know that we both can't leave without each other, so stop whatever games you are playing with that marriage or yours and

Worlds. Not in immersive, wraparound detail like the ones I’d walked through, but as if I were seeing them on screens. A carnival that wasn’t drowned—bright lights and dry boards, a key laughing as she walked through a hall of mirrors that hadn’t yet decided to eat her. A ruined city that wasn’t neon, but dust and red sky, a different protagonist sprinting across a collapsed bridge. Past cycles. Re‑runs. This… wasn’t my mirror. It was the Game’s.

Dominic "Breaking news—renowned real estate mogul Juliette Winchester-Wright admitted to a mental facility after a recent attempt on her life. According to her husband, who is also the CEO of Winchester Properties, James Wright, the now mother and wife had actually been diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression for almost a year now, which had led to her disconnecting from reality and making multiple attempts on her life. She..." I closed up the article I was reading and checked the date it had been released with a sigh.