You'd Be Paranoid Too Book Novels & Stories

“It’s a cheap earring I bought in China. I didn’t even notice it was gone. Where did you find it?” “Someone picked it up. Said the woman who dropped it was running very fast for a tourist.” Dante stepped inside. The door closed behind him—heel to wood, no hands. “Do you think I’m stupid?” “I think you’re being paranoid.” He began moving through the room. Eyes sweeping—the bed, the TV, the still-damp towel in the bathroom. Every detail catalogued and filed. “Paranoia is why I’m still breathing.” He advanced. Elena backed up until the wall found her first.

It felt heavy enough to sear straight through the fabric of my jeans. The safehouse had changed shapes around me. Every dome camera in the hallway felt like a widening eye. Every locked door was just a vault for another piece of my life they’d stolen. I walked with my shoulders tense, moving with the twitchy, hyper-focused paranoia of an animal that had finally smelled the blood on the trap.

I was waiting for some kind of reaction, something that could prove my paranoia right but Janet just stared at me with a confused expression, "It's not personal, I'm just saying you should be careful. She might not be here but she has eyes and ears everywhere." "Huh, I didn't know that." So I was right, there must be someone watching me. "And you really think I like Margot. If I had a chance I'd kill her myself, that bitch deserves a whole lot of pain." All I saw in Janet's eyes were anger and a thirst for revenge. Does that mean she's not the one? I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. My paranoia was stressing me out, I didn't know who to trust or who to believe. I didn't even have co

“Please feel free to help yourself to the wet bar or the library while you wait. Though, please don’t take War and Peace off the shelf, as that’s the self-destruct trigger for the estate. We’ll be safe in here from the fallout, but I’m not entirely sure my closest neighbors wouldn’t be outside of the blast radius, and I’m pretty certain that would get me kicked out of the Homeowners Association.” “Why do you have it, then?” I ask, baffled by this strange, strange man. Frank just shrugs with another coy smile, and replies, “Always better to have a plan for a worst-case scenario and not need it, than need it and not have it.” I used to think I had a pretty decent grasp on the meaning of the wo

“Damon has been acting weird since we got back from our trip. Something must have triggered it. I'm not crazy.” “No. You're not.” He spoke with calm certainty, like he’d already dissected my thoughts before I’d even had them. “You’ve been running on pure nerves since the ambush. You’re paranoid. You think if you miss a single detail, if you let one thing slip by unnoticed, you’ll lose everything. You’re terrified that something you didn’t catch will compromise your life with Damon,” He looked me in the eyes as he stepped closer. “or take it from you entirely.”

, but before the old lady could complete CEO intervenes,” just throw her out of my cabin right now or else I am going to fire you all”, ordering his guards Just burn each and every copy of this book or else ....”, But before she could complete her sentence suddenly her voice gets husky and his facial expressions starts changing, and she again continues,” I am going to. “, and once again before completing her sentence she ends up hitting wall of the room exploding her mind like a bomb and soon her blood spills all over the room which leaves both of us scared So not having any other option with just ended up burning each and every copy of the book which were collected across the globe but stil

"You know what else isn't fair? Having some psycho stalking me for years. I have to look over my shoulder every time I leave the house. Have to suspect everyone around me because I can't trust anyone." "You can trust me," Yara says quietly. "Can I?" The question slips out before I can stop it, and I immediately regret it when I see the pain in her eyes. "Wow." Her voice is barely above a whisper. "You really think I could be involved in this?" "No, I..." I slump back into my chair, suddenly exhausted. "I don't know what to think anymore. I'm so tired of being scared all the time." "So you'd rather be paranoid instead?"

She has been avoiding him ever since she came to know about Amie’s real motive. She sighed in relief when she found the book intact in the bag. She looked around her room. Even though she had safely locked it, she felt paranoid. All the pent up energy and strength left her once she was sure that the book wasn’t gone. She plopped down on the bed. Her mind was full of questions and thoughts. Was this the reason behind yesterday’s incident? Someone was definitely trying to steal something. In the beginning too, when she was attacked in her apartment…

“In a modest community in New England, teenagers are kidnapped around night and… covered alive.” I interrupt and take a dry drink, rather stunned by the unreasonable comparability with our current reality. Days after the fact that they emerged changed, planting disorder and spreading fear, told by a long-standing petition from the parascientists known as the Fear Specialists. Where do you say you tracked down this book? - I ask Grecia after making a sound as if to speak. —In Sassa 's room.— He had a note from his father, he got it for her, she clarifies. The moment one of you was not lonely directed my messages or calls, I chose to read it alone. Justoedith appeared shortly after I completed

I quickly found the book I needed, my hands shaking slightly, I left the library feeling exposed, vulnerable. From that moment, my paranoia grew even worse, it was no longer a vague suspicion, it was a cold, hard certainty that I was being watched specifically. The estate, once a sanctuary, now felt like a gilded cage, I started noticing small inconsistencies in my daily life that had previously slipped by. My favorite pen, which I always left on the right side of my desk, would sometimes be on the left, a silk scarf, folded precisely in a drawer, would be slightly disturbed, as if someone had run a hand over it.