Fantôme

What?!?" Pia exclaimed. “What's within?” Saying, "Oh my God! Is that a finger that has been chopped?’ Cassandra uttered, "I'm not sure!” "What the fuck does that even mean?!?" exclaimed Pia. Cassandra says, "What?!?" Please don't look at me that way. Furthermore, I have no idea what that even means!’ Pia commented, "This is embarrassing," and Cassia responded, "Okay, I'm going to call the police right away." "No!" exclaimed Pia. Oh no, please don't! “ Cassiandra uttered, "Are you serious at this moment? Cass, that is one fucking chopped finger! Furthermore, we have no idea whose finger it is!” "I'm sure that whoever sent this wouldn't really like it if we ever called the police about this," Pia said. "I also think that they might be keeping an eye on us right now." Cassandra was already breathing heavily as she was scared and doesn't know what to do. She panicked while Pia remained calm and silent as she tries to calm her friend down. Fear flashed through Cassandra's mind as she and Pia stood next to her car, their nerves still raw from the uncomfortable meeting. "Then, what do we do now?" Cassandra's eyes darted across the surroundings while her voice wavered with anxiety. With her own heart rate accelerating due to adrenaline, Pia tried to calm their agitated minds. "Maybe we'll try to calm down first..." However, Cassandra's mind was already racing, a flash of insight emerging in her. "But wait, the letter!" Pia looked in astonishment, taken aback by Cassandra's apparent eagerness. "What?" Words flew out of Cassandra's mouth, a trace of panic in her tone. "H-Haven't that box come with a letter?" Pia's face wrinkled as she considered what Cassandra had said, realizing what had happened.

Jackson found no words to respond; he remained silent, holding the divorce papers. He felt numb, detached from the world around him. His wife's words and actions had left him shattered, unable to believe that their relationship had abruptly ended with no chance for reconciliation. As he stared at the divorce papers thrown in his face, he felt a sense of finality and loss engulfing him. He could only blame himself for everything that had happened – if he had been honest with his wife about his situation, perhaps things would have taken a different turn. Walking down the street lost in his thoughts, he heard his phone ring. Initially, he didn't want to answer; he wasn't in the mood to receive more bad news. But something in his gut told him to take the call. "Hello?" he answered reluctantly. "Young sir! Your grandfather informed me to contact you. 100,000,000 has been deposited into your account, and tomorrow your exile period will end. You'll regain control of your company, and the family is coming to welcome you back," the voice on the other end explained. Checking his phone, he indeed saw the deposited amount. Everything was falling back into place. Jackson replied hesitantly, "Tomorrow, I'll turn twenty-five." His mind returned to his old life in the palace and prestigious companies, where he was a rising star before being suddenly banished. He had always wondered when he would return. The voice from the phone continued, "Young sir! Your exile period has ended, and your companies are ready to welcome you back with open arms. We need you, Jackson – you are the heir to our companies, and we cannot do without you."

Max stepped forward, his heart racing as he searched the man’s face, looking for some resemblance, some hint of familiarity. “Who… who are you?” he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper. The man studied him for a moment before responding, his voice thick with emotion. “I am Reginald Reid, your grandfather.” The words hit Max like a thunderbolt. “Grandfather?” he echoed, his mind racing. He had never imagined he had a family, much less one of such prominence. Reginald nodded, his gaze filled with a mixture of pride and regret. “Yes, Max. You are my grandson, and the last direct heir of the Reid family.” Max stepped forward, his heart racing as he searched the man’s face, looking for some resemblance, some hint of familiarity. “Who… who are you?” he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper. The man studied him for a moment before responding, his voice thick with emotion. “I am Reginald Reid, your grandfather.” The words hit Max like a thunderbolt. “Grandfather?” he echoed, his mind racing. He had never imagined he had a family, much less one of such prominence. Reginald nodded, his gaze filled with a mixture of pride and regret. “Yes, Max. You are my grandson, and the last direct heir of the Reid family.” Max’s mind swirled with confusion. “But… why didn’t I know? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” A flicker of pain crossed Reginald’s face. “There were… complicated reasons. When your parents passed away under tragic circumstances, it was decided that you should be raised away from the family, for your own safety. It was not an easy choice, but it was necessary.” Max’s heart twisted at the mention of his parents. He’d spent his end of the year

Matthew stood there, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I did everything I could for you, Rachel. I sacrificed so much—" She cut him off with a bitter laugh. "Sacrificed? Please, you barely managed to keep up with my lifestyle. I had men lined up, rich, powerful men, who would’ve given me the world. And I turned them down for you. What a joke." Matthew’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I loved you, Rachel. I thought we were building a life together." Rachel smirked as she zipped up her designer bag. "Love doesn’t pay the bills, Matthew. Love doesn’t buy the things I want. And frankly, you just couldn’t keep up. So, I’m moving on—to someone who can." As she headed toward the door, she paused to deliver one final blow. "You’ll never be more than what you are right now—a pathetic, broke man with nothing to offer. Enjoy your sad little life, Matthew. I know I will." Matthew Donovan has always been underestimated. Betrayed by those closest to him and left with nothing, he discovers that his family’s exile is over, and he is the heir to a vast business empire. As Matthew steps into a life of luxury and influence, he faces new challenges, including a vengeful ex-girlfriend, her scheming brother, and a world of deceitful elites. But when a bomb explodes at a high-profile party meant to announce his return, Matthew realizes that his journey to reclaim his family's legacy is fraught with danger. With secrets unfolding and enemies lurking in the shadows, Matthew must navigate treacherous waters to protect what is his and uncover the truth behind the attack.

I narrowed my eyes at him and caught glimpse of a guy, standing in a corner and what’s weird is that he wasn’t dancing. He seemed different and odd for all this. He’s looking in my direction, very still and I can see him intermittently. The hat makes it harder to discern. Except for the creepy, fiendish smile, raising the edges of his mouth real slowly. I squinted my eyes at him. He tugged his hat from the right, an expression of a muted Hi! I nodded reflexively and opened my mouth to call Frank, who was busy with stuffing ice cubes in two glasses of beer. “Hey!” I called with my hurting head. “What?” he asked the glasses. “Who’s that? Someone new?” I pointed at him. Frank gave up the stuffing and looked in his direction. “Haven’t seen him before” he said with confusion. . . . Elijah Heath, an eighteen year old teenager was stalked by someone. Read to know who was he? And what made him behave this strangely. Does someone REALLY follows her? Or she's hallucinating like others say? . . . "Is someone there?", I moped around the dim-litted living room. "Guess it's just me. I'm making excuses to cease. No, Elijah! You have to finish this up!". As I ascended three steps, I realized a change in the air pressure around me, an odd creak and a clear presence of heat_ behind me. My breath abated. Just as I plucked the nerve to turn, my ankle was grasped and I slided down as some hand pulled me. My knees rubbed along the hard steps. **Caution**: Contains extremely disturbing content. Read only if you can stand murder and blood descriptions else you might feel nauseous.

At seven, my father returned with his mistress and my half-brother, who was only a few weeks older than me. Under my mother's grief-stricken and despairing eyes, my father ruthlessly kicked us out. I always knew that my father wanted a supernaturally awakened and talented heir, however, I didn't fit the bill because I couldn't awaken any special talents and didn't show outstanding academic abilities. Moreover, my uncles and aunts were eyeing my father's position, eager to overthrow him and take his place. Competitors also harbored ill intentions towards our family, watching my father like a hawk. In this treacherous situation, my father rekindled his relationship with his mistress, the second daughter of a noble family from the Royal City. Finally, my father no longer concealed his pre-marital affair. After making it public, he brought his mistress and her talented son back home to replace my mother and me. To survive, my mother had no choice but to take me into hiding, changing our identities and fleeing to a remote town to escape their grasp and settle down. What my father didn't know was that I didn't lack talent; my talent was simply too strong, requiring an immense amount of energy to awaken, energy that my weak seven-year-old self couldn't handle. Eleven years later, I had grown up and finally awakened my superlative talent, becoming a renowned genius in the remote town. I never thought about going back to confront my father or seeking revenge on his mistress because they weren't worth my mother's and my time! My mother and I are doing well now. I believe with my talent and effort, our lives will only get better. However, I overestimated the goodness in people, and underestimated their malice!