“How’s your injury holding up?” Harlan inquired, his gaze shifting to Marcus’s arm, his demeanor earnest.

“I’m still holding on,” Marcus responded.

The glass found its reprieve upon the table as Marcus unshackled his tie with a casual grace.

“Give me a ring before you can’t hold on, and I’ll whisk you away to Raven Island, rescuing you from the depths of hell.”

Marcus let out a derisive snort, retorting, “Well, thanks then.”

For the ensuing duration, the room succumbed to quietude, with both occupants displaying a penchant for reticence.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

phone resonated with a melodious

vista adorned with stars, a

of stars adorned the canvas

Marcus typed

absence leave a

a girl sent images like cerulean

Millie’s response arrived.

the

with a

engaged in conversation

screen, Harlan surmised that he must be conversing with Millie. Left with nothing to occupy his time, Harlan uncorked a

flirtatious Maserati graced its cessation, its allure undeniable. And from the shadows of his brief seclusion

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255