Does Knotts Have A Wait Time App?

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

Three days ago, Julian Sinclair promised me to my face that he would propose to me tonight, at the family dinner. So when the ballroom doors swung open, every eye in the room turned to me, all of them already knowing why. Someone raised a glass, smiling like they already knew the secret. "Congratulations in advance, Donna." I stood there in the crowd, my fingertips trembling a little, waiting for Julian to come to me. But once he was inside, he walked right past me, straight up to Chloe Ross. And then, in front of everyone, he pinned the underboss's silver badge to her chest. "You did good work on the East Harbor cleanup." The room went still for a beat, and then the applause broke out. Chloe looked up at him, her eyes red, as if she'd finally been handed the place that was meant to be hers. I stood frozen, feeling my smile crack apart on my face, piece by piece. Only then did Julian seem to notice something, and he turned back to me. "Don't overthink it." "Tonight belongs to Chloe. Spoiling her moment with a proposal wouldn't be right." "At the next family dinner, I'll hand you the black ring in front of everyone." I looked at him and let out a soft laugh. Julian didn't know. There wasn't going to be a next time. My engagement banquet with the head of the Vaughn family was set for next week.

We can't really control time, if time paused we can't really do anything about it. If the time starts to move again then take chances before it's too late. During their past life, they already know will come to an end. But a chance was given for them to live and find each other to love again.

I could see the countdown above a person’s head when they had already decided to leave their partner. The day my father’s countdown hit zero, he slapped a lawyer’s letter on the breakfast table and walked out on my mother and me. The day my best friend’s countdown hit zero, she finally threw her parasite of a boyfriend out of her apartment and changed the locks before sunset. That was why I’d always been terrified of seeing a countdown above my fiancé, Lucian Bellandi. Luckily, for seven years by his side, the space above his head had stayed clean. Lucian was the youngest Don the Bellandi family had ever seen. He owned the docks, the casinos, and half the South Side’s dirty money, yet he saved every soft part of himself for me. Until last month, when he picked me up after a family auction. I looked up and saw blood-red numbers stabbing into my eyes. [702 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes.] Less than two years. My heart tightened like a cold hand had closed around it. I started searching for an answer like a woman losing her mind. Had I done something wrong? Then, during a blizzard by the lake, we ran into Mia Crane at the back entrance of the Bellandi Hotel. Lucian had just brought her into his charity foundation as a new assistant. Snow clung to her hair and lashes. She was shivering from head to toe, but her smile was bright and painfully innocent. Lucian pulled a black silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her. His face was calm. There was nothing openly improper in the gesture. But in that exact second, the countdown above his head jumped. [327 days, 4 hours, 47 minutes.] More than three hundred days, gone. And I knew I had found the reason.

The whole world got sucked into a survival horror game. While everyone else was grinding mobs and trying not to get wiped, the system bugged out and tagged me as an NPC. My role? Takeout girl. I cruised around on my busted scooter, dropping food at boss lairs. If my rating dipped under 9.0, I'd keel over instantly. I figured I was just some unlucky idiot skating on death's edge. Then a pack of dumb players tried to jack my ride. That's when the scariest bosses in the game roared at once: "Who the hell thinks they can touch my crew?!"

Language used: ENGLISH • • • • Don't Let Go Trilogy #1 • • • • When I was just 5 years old, I used to love grandma's stories. Like, having an arranged marriage and being in love. It was magical but now that I really think about it, it's a bit silly. Why? It's simple. Less freedom. Girlfriends. Boyfriends. Sleep-overs. Parties. Journeys. You can't possibly do all of those things when your hands are tied. Besides, what if you don't love that person? And that you'll never, ever, learn to love that person? Can't you choose the person that your heart wants instead? Seriously, love is complicated. • • • • • Kira Castelle is an amiable, easy-to-talk-to, and a laid-back 17 year old lady that has sworn to put love aside and continue reaching for her dreams. Not until a perfect storm happened. When females turn 18 and males turn 21, they are assigned a marriage partner by the government. With this, they just have to wait for the country to find their compatible partner and become happy. When Kira Castelle finally turned 18, she has to meet her partner. Neal Valastro. A drop-dead gorgeous man of stone. He's the epitome of perfection and Kira's polar opposite. The problem is, will this work out just fine for Kira? Will she ever be Ready? or Not? • • • • •