Your Smile Is A Trap Novels & Stories

I teased. He smirked faintly, the closest thing to a smile I’d seen in days. Inside, the music was low, the candles flickered, and everyone clapped as we walked in. Tristan thanked everyone for coming, his voice strong but emotionless. Typical. He didn’t smile, not even when our mothers hugged him. Nyra leaned close and whispered, “If he ever smiles, I swear the moon will rise twice in one night.” I bit my lip to stop a laugh.

“I was front row at a designer show in New York. Do you really think I need money?” Audrina sighed. “Maybe not. Come on, just give me one.” “Smokings a filthy habit, Beauty Queen. It rots teeth. You want to keep your day job, you shouldn’t smoke.” “What about you?” she asked. “Why can you smoke, but I can’t?” I smiled. “I’m already rotting from the inside. It doesn’t matter if I rot the rest of the way.” “I guess you must be, for a Capaldi.”

Elena folds her arms against her chest and with head held high fakes smile like a queen that didn’t reach her eyes. “How does it feel when someone uses the same deceptive methods to pull you down?” Adam heard her wordlessly and she continued. “If you think that only you can make strategies and bring people down, then I must clear your misconception, there are more bigger fish than you. You are not the only one out.” She smirks wickedly and continues, “Seems like you don’t like the change of events. Don’t be a sour looser.” Adam watches her quietly for some seconds after which she noticed a muscle tic in his jaw.

" I smiled, small and sharp, nothing in it. "A trap " I said.

At the hospital, none of that existed. Valeria sat beside Ethan's bed, peeling an orange while he complained dramatically about hospital food. "I've decided this soup is a crime." She laughed. "You've said that three times." "Because nobody's arrested it." "You should report it." "I intend to." He accepted a slice of orange from her hand. "You know..." "What?" "You smile differently now." Valeria paused. "I do not." "You do." "I smile." "No." He shook his head. "You used to smile like you were borrowing happiness."

hot! Damnit, am sure he doesn't even realize that if he stop being depressed, and an outcast, he could make anyone fall for him, anyone like... I thought to myself, and smiled like a fool, but before I could snap the thought out of my head this time, he caught me red-handed as if he literally had eyes at the back of his head "Don't stare at me and smile like that, it's creepy cause I don't know if you are planning to kill me"

I met a like-minded colleague in the desert. His name was Joshua Henry. Like me, he was a workaholic. We often worked late into the night together and debated technical problems. He never asked about my past. He would simply place a cup of warm water beside me whenever I needed it, without a word. One day, he said, “Stella, you have a beautiful smile. You should smile more.” I froze. That was when I realized that it had been a very long time since I had genuinely smiled. At the end of the year, the project team organized a retreat. Joshua asked me to watch the sunrise with him.

Hundreds of boxes stacked at the front desk, the dark red fruit piled into little mountains. A young girl from HR ran up. "Mr. Bassett… we're really doing this?" "Yes." "And the campaign?" "Do it." By three in the afternoon, the company's official account posted. The photos were meticulously arranged: cherries spilling onto velvet cloth, a company-logo card beside them, handwritten words: [Sweetness fills the New Year.] Caption: [This New Year, we don't want money. Just sweetness.] The comments exploded. The first few praised it.

Just enemies, allies of convenience, and a husband I couldn't trust. Six weeks. I called my brother Luca. "We need to talk. Tonight." "Elena, it's midnight—" "Tonight. Your place. Tell no one." I hung up, hailed a cab, and didn't look back at the restaurant. Somewhere behind me, in that soundproofed room, Dante Moretti was learning the same lesson I'd just accepted: trust was currency in our world, and we were both bankrupt.

That smile that has made warriors fall at my feet. And I say it. “Fuck me.” His fingers dig into the ground beside my head, and his pupils dilate. His lips twitch. His eyes zone in on my lips, and for a heartbeat, I think he’s going to do it. Right here. Right now. My breath catches. But then he… smiles. Smiles. A dark, predatory pull at his lips. “Trust me, princess, you couldn’t handle the way I’d ruin you.” Holy hell. And the fucker shifts again.