Fiction
Businesswoman Chapter 287
“I know you’re all embarrassed. I can only say this happened in br as daylight under the eyes of armed guards. Now, you’re probably wondering, ‘what does this have to do with business?’ It has everything to do with it,” Loreen explained.
By Skyler Saunders3 months ago in Chapters
The Day Everything Went Wrong
It all began with a loud, shrill beep at 7:30 a.m. — my alarm clock announcing the start of what I believed would be an ordinary Tuesday. I groaned, hit snooze, and rolled over, only to realize something horrifying: I had set my alarm thirty minutes late. My first meeting of the day was at 8:00 a.m. sharp.
By abdul qadir3 months ago in Chapters
The Cabin
I left the cabin for the first time, on my own terms. It did not kick me out, catch fire, or try to harm me in any way. Maria walked me to the door and waved goodbye from the window. We had sat together for hours discussing our life. She wanted to know what happens to us, and why we needed to come back to the cabin and find the artefact. I couldn’t find it in my heart to tell her.
By ThatWriterWoman3 months ago in Chapters
The Last Gift of Mister Box
The Last Gift of Mister Box Subtitle: A Legacy Beyond Time In the quiet town of Evermere, where fog hung low and the clocks chimed in soft harmony, there lived an old inventor named Mister Box. His real name was Theodore Boxley, but everyone simply called him Mister Box—for no one in town could remember a time when he wasn’t tinkering with mysterious boxes, gears, and glowing gadgets in his creaky workshop.
By abdul qadir3 months ago in Chapters
Jama Taqseem Episode 11 & 12
The most recent episodes of Jama Taqseem were an emotional rollercoaster, especially as Qais navigated the mayhem surrounding him. Talha Chahour continues to flourish in this capacity. Last week, we watched him pulled between his family and his niece Sidra's safety, facing his nephew Zeeshan, and seeing the toxic environment in his house. This week continued off just where it left off, with Qais saying his goodbyes to his parents before moving in with Laila. Talha gave a nuanced and profound performance here. The way his voice cracked slightly as he glanced at his father and inquired, "Abba ji?" — without an answer — before turning to his mother for consolation, was heartbreakingly beautiful. His whisper to her, full of optimism yet laced with regret, truly touched me.
By Raviha Imran3 months ago in Chapters
Knotted Roots - Part 15. Content Warning.
I woke up early, my body aching from the heartbreak of Pa’s passing mere hours ago. Jane lay sound asleep beside me. She looked so peaceful, perfect. Her long brunette hair covered her shoulders as she lay on her side. I slipped out of the covers and quietly made my way downstairs, eager to feed the insatiable hunger rumbling in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if I even ate anything yesterday, and it felt as if I hadn’t eaten in a week! I found a box of cereal and poured it into a bowl, splashing the top with milk. I sat in silence, peering out the windows as dawn broke over the mountains, a cool breeze in the air. It looked as if there was hope in the air, a fresh morning with clear skies and birds chirping in the distance. It would be a morning my father would have enjoyed. He would’ve been enjoying the newspaper, the window open, and his coffee sitting nearby. I stretched as I stood from the old wooden chair, and I washed the bowl, leaving it atop a towel to dry. I poured myself some coffee and made my way to the porch, breathing in the new day. “Don’t worry, Pa, no one’s taking this ranch from us. I’ll make you proud.” I said aloud, in a low, steady voice as I leaned against a post. And then I heard the grumbling sound of that old mustang, followed by a dust cloud. Great! Just when I thought I’d find peace. If it’s a fight he wants, it’s a fight he’ll get. Greg slid his mustang to a halt in front of the porch. “You!” Greg seemed annoyed and angered. “You can get back in that pretty lil car of yours, ain’t nothin’ for ya here.” Sipping on my coffee, I eyed him like a predator watching its prey. “You’re the reason Grace broke off our engagement.” “I think that was a long time comin’.” Greg stormed towards me, huffing and inches from my face. I didn’t flinch, I embraced the moment! “I’m coming for everything! You hear me! Everything!” “He told you to leave. I suggest you do just that.” Jane’s voice broke the tension and surprised both Greg and I. She shouldn’t be out here. This was my battle, yet I’m starting to realize Jane is a lot tougher than anyone gives her credit for. “What’s this? You just sleeping with all the women in town?” Greg sneered, my anger boiling, my muscles tensing as he was getting too bold. “Wait til Grace hears about this! Or maybe, I should just take this lil beauty!” Greg’s perverted smirk caused my soul to twist in anger. I violently grabbed Greg by his shirt, yanking him upwards, piercing into his empty soul like I was about to devour it myself. “Watch your tongue, snake!” I gritted, shoving him off the porch, causing him to stumble to the ground. “Hey! You’ll regret that.” I stepped forward, blocking his eyesight of Jane, “Jasper…” I heard Jane whisper my name, her arm slinking around me. It caused me to relax just slightly, comforted by her confidence. I held my eyes on Greg; the clear annoyance on his face was satisfying. “I suggest you refrain from returning here, Greg, for your sake.” I threatened, as he scowled and scurried into his mustang, whipping it around, leaving Jane in and I in dust on the porch. “What was that all about?” “Nothing. He and Grace had plotted about getting their hands on my farm. Ever since they found out about Pa’s health.” “Grace?” “He told me everything, Jane. And Grace, well, she can’t be trusted.” “Jasper, you’ve never spoken like that about her.” I thought Jane would’ve been glad to hear about my displeasure with Grace, how I had finally begun to see how manipulative she had been. “Jane, you don’t understand the tricks and games she tormented me with.” “Perhaps, but I still find it hard to believe Grace agreeing to something so vile.” “It doesn’t matter now, Jane.” I embraced her, my hand cupping her sharp jawline, as I kissed her softly.
By Sibley Shamra3 months ago in Chapters
Knotted Roots - Part 14
Jane refused to leave me alone that night, she insisted that she stayed here. Everything was still moving in slow motion, delayed response and recognition to everything around me. Whenever Jane spoke, it was like my brain was attempting to translate the words before they made sense. I wandered the house, heavy footsteps thudding across the dry wooden floor. The endless memories framed and nailed to the walls. It was as if the home had lost a part of itself somehow. Wounded. “Jane, you needn’t worry yourself with me.” “Its better to be in a house of mourning, than a house of feasting.” “That doesn’t make sense. No one wants to feel this, no one should have to feel this!” My eyes trying to hold back the burning fiery from within. Surely she doesn’t want to experience my pain, my loss. The heaviness of it all was nearly suffocating! She should be enjoying a nice dinner, to be happy. Not here watching me drown in sorrow. Yet, it was comforting to have her around, and the best part with Jane was she carried no drama. The day seemed to have passed quickly, the sun was beginning to set off in the distance. That amber colored light trying to pierce into this gloomy home. I felt exhausted, as if I hadn’t slept in years. Jane had been sitting in an arm chair in the living room, while I sulked around the house. “Talk to me Jasper, you seem troubled.” Jane asked, her voice soft, a patient expression on her face. The way her eyes beamed with love, with life. I made my way back to the couch, sitting on its edge. “I don’t mean this in anyway towards you, Jane. But if I’m being honest, I feel abandoned.” Jane didn’t flinch, her smile steady across her lips. Her sundress is the only color in this dreary home. “Jasper, you’re never alone. Psalms 34:18 says, ‘The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and crushed in spirit.’ God doesn’t forsake his children. I can’t say I know what you’re going through or how you’re feeling, but I know how to listen.” Jane’s smile was infectious to say the least, the way her heart broke seeing me broken, yet resilient and poised in the face of death itself, was bewildering and beautiful all the same. It caused a shift within me, a surge of emotion and something else I wasn’t sure I truly recognized. With what little strength I had left, I rose to my feet, making my way to the small record player Pa had. He hardly used it since Ma passed, at times even I forgot about it. We only ever used it in rare memorable moments. I knelt beside it, sifting through the shelf underneath it for a particular record. Ah! With a swipe, I brushed the dust off the cover revealing the famous Patsy Cline single. I sat the record on the platter, watching the needle of the stylus sit into the fine grooves of the record as it began to play. The familiar musical intro of the song bounced off of the walls. Without speaking, I stepped in front of Jane, reaching out my hand to her. She silently accepted the offer and we began to dance slowly, as the song “Crazy” played softly in the background. Jane rested her head against my chest, I resting my chin atop her head. It was my way of expressing how much I loved her, and how I wouldn’t blame her if she walked away, to be happier with someone else, anyone else. I kissed the top of her head a few times as we held each other closely. Swaying as the lyrics spoke what was on my mind, to allow Jane to understand my current mindstate. When the song ended, Jane leaned back that warm smile never fading from her face, her eyes warmer than ever. “I love your kind of crazy, Jasper Black.” My chest fluttering, my eyes, dark and desperate for her words to be true, “I love you, Jane.” I breathed the words heavily, my forehead resting against hers. That’s when she pulled me into a kiss. The kiss was soft, yet there was so much depth to it, a raw vulnerability to it. I kissed her back just as gently at first. My arms encircled her hips gently pulling her into my body. I clung to her warmth, to her loving kisses, as if they were healing a part of my brokenness. When we pulled away from one another, we were both a little breathless, and she had brought a smile, a life source back inside me. “It’s getting late.” I breathed, “When are you going to understand that I’m not going anywhere?” My eyes were stinging with tears that I was able to blink away. “Why don’t you try to take a warm shower, Jasper. It may do you some good.” Her loving concern for my wellbeing was appreciated and adored. I nodded and began the slow ascent to the second floor, Pa’s room haunting my conscience as I tried to ignore its emptiness. I entered the bathroom, shed the clothes from my back, and entered into the steamy shower. The hot running water, as if washing away all of the tears that had stained my cheeks and soothing the internal pain and anguish within me. Jane was right, I did need this. I wrapped the towel around my waist, steam disappearing from my hot skin as I entered my room, shocked to see Jane there, sitting on my bed. “Ahem.” Jane peeked over her shoulder and was shocked to see me in a towel, although I don’t believe she looked disappointed. “Oh! I’m sorry! I’ll just…” “Well I can’t say this isn’t a pleasant surprise.” I said, holding her gaze, her speechlessness was adorable. “I’ll just be leaving, so you can dress.” Jane tried not to stare at my chiseled frame, and the blush on her cheeks brought a broad smile to my weary face. Jane shut the door behind her, and I chuckled to myself. This was one of those moments when my thoughts of having Jane to myself were nearly obsessive, the way I could let her know what she does to me, and repay her with praise and pleasure. However, that dream would have to wait since we agreed to abstain from sexual desires and focus on our relationship emotionally. “It’s safe now!” I hollered, a loose shirt and sweatpants covering my body from her curious and admiring eyes. Jane couldn’t help but laugh at herself as she entered my room again. “I know I told you I didn’t need this, but I sure am glad to be spending tonight with you, Jane.” “Me too, Jasper.” Jane went to the edge of my bed, motioning me to sit next to her. As I sat beside her, she reached out her hand for me to take, and I did without hesitation. That warm smile grew a little larger as my hand filled hers, and then she bowed her head. I wasn’t sure what she was doing at first until she began to speak; she was praying. “Dear Lord, blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Lord, you know Jasper’s pain, his loss. I ask that you remain with him now and always, as he learns to live this life without Pa, but be steadfast, knowing you are always with him, guiding him. May your love and mercy fall upon him, and may you bring peace to his worried heart. Give him the courage to continue to live as you live within us. It is in your precious and holy name I pray, Jesus, amen.” A tear escaped, dwindling slowly down my cheek. I didn’t realize I had tensed up until I went to let go of Jane’s hand and pull her into another hug. I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like Jane, to receive love like this, but I wasn’t going to waste it. Not even Grace could calm the brewing storm within me. I pulled the quilted comforter back and slipped underneath and cuddled Jane. “I love you, Jane.” “I love you too, Jasper.” We both became subdued by exhaustion and fell asleep clinging to one another under the quilted comforter.
By Sibley Shamra3 months ago in Chapters
Businesswoman Chapter 284. Top Story - October 2025.
Lisa walked into her bedroom lazily. She held her heels in her hand and asked Simon to put on some jazz. She leaned her head back and fell onto her pillows like a swan landing on water. She closed her eyes.
By Skyler Saunders3 months ago in Chapters
What Makes Yul’s Spanish Tragedy a Landmark in Modern Historical Fiction
Each age provides us with a handful of novels that not only recount a tale, they redefine the way we feel history. They span the impossible distance between past and present, making old dust live and breathe. Jules Wright's Yul's Spanish Tragedy is one such remarkable work.
By Edward Molne3 months ago in Chapters
