Itachi Sit Novels & Stories

When the heatwave apocalypse hits the Earth, the ozone layer has completely dissipated, forcing mankind to move into the underground city. My husband, Rhett Calloway, and I get to stay on Level Two, seeing as we've funded the construction of the underground city. On day in the third year of the heatwave apocalypse, Rhett brings back a sickly young woman from the slums located on Level Three out of the blue. "Nora, the living conditions on Level Three are very difficult. Anna is in poor health. I can't just sit by and watch her suffer." After that, Rhett carries Anna Archer into our home. I keep my gaze lowered as I remind him, "Don't forget that there's a strict population count on Level Two. The available slots in every family are fixed." "I know that. That's why you need to head down to the slums on Level Three to replace Anna for the time being. Once she recovers from her illness, I'll bring you home." The moment I hear Rhett's response, I remain rooted to the spot for a long time. After walking out the front door, I do my best to suppress the quiver in my tone as I call a number that belongs to Level One. "I've already thought it through. I've decided to join the project to end the apocalypse on Level One."

The night before the wedding, the effects of the drug wore off. I woke up in the master bedroom of the estate to the sound of laughter. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw my custom-made suit being cut into strips by Jessica Solomon's male best friend, Chris Johnson. As he twirled a pair of scissors in his hand, he joked with the viewers on his livestream. "Man of the house? Please. He's lying there completely helpless. Anybody could do whatever they want to him." Jessica's friends burst into laughter and chimed in. "Jessica put sleeping pills in his milk herself. Anybody would've been knocked out cold." The livestream chat flooded with comments ridiculing me as the pathetic man marrying into a wealthy family, but Jessica simply watched with amusement and reached over to ruffle Chris' hair. "Feeling better now? Be good and end the livestream. If he wakes up and causes a scene, tomorrow's wedding will be a mess." Only after everyone left did Jessica sit down beside the bed and pull the blanket over me. "Chris is depressed. He can't handle being upset. We'll deal with this later. "I've already arranged for a replacement suit to be flown in overnight on a private jet. Honestly, that one suits you better anyway." My fingers tightened around the bedsheet. Silently, I sent a message to Katie Everton. [I'm not getting married. Does what you said before still stand?]

“How sore are you?” His unexpected presence made me jump in fright. “Your Majesty?” I spun around to see him sitting on the bed I had been staring at earlier. “Come here.” He didn’t repeat the question. Did I mishear? “Your Grace, if you’ll just let me finish cleaning up this area—” I rushed out, suddenly confused and nervous about why he’d want me to come closer. “How about you abandon that and come sit, Cassia. Now.” His tone was firm yet soft. I almost gasped when he raised his eyebrows and patted his left thigh. I gulped hard and took tentative steps toward him…. In a world where medieval and modern collide, werewolves, vampires, and hybrids rule while humans live in fear, their lives not fully belonging to themselves. Cassia is one of the unfortunate souls sold by her aunt to the hybrid palace, a place desperately in need of new servants. Living under the roof of the infamous Hybrid King, who harbors a deep-seated hatred for humans—especially due to their role in the brutal attack that harmed his mother—her fate becomes dangerously intertwined with his. As she navigates the treacherous palace with survival on her mind, she becomes entangled with the King, who fights against an undeniable attraction to the very human he despises.

Since my favorite basketball player is hosting a meet-and-greet, I've ordered a VIP seat that comes with the benefit of interacting with the player in advance. When the time comes, I follow a staff member to my designated seat. I'm about to sit down when a man walks over and takes my seat instead. "This is where I can watch the meet-and-greet the best. I shall have this seat, then." I just stare at the man, completely speechless. "Sir, this is my seat. Please get off the chair." What I don't expect is for him to dig out a stack of cash before hurling it at me. "A peasant like you has no right to meet basketball stars! I'm buying this seat from you right now! Take the money and scram!" Seeing that I refuse to leave, the man continues haughtily, "I'm Wilbur Collins, the assistant of Jade Pearson, CEO of Pearson Group! Everyone in this city knows who the Pearsons are! Are you trying to push your luck here?" Jade Pearson? Isn't that the fiancee who my dad has betrothed to me? I pull out my phone and call her right away. "Hey, your assistant has snatched my seat from me in a basketball star's meet-and-greet session like the hooligan he is. You'd better give me a good explanation for this!"

My executive boyfriend's newly hired assistant caused trouble again. All because a client mentioned he was afraid of snakes, she sent him a king cobra as "exposure therapy." The client was bitten and nearly died. Because of that, the company lost a multimillion-dollar project and had to pay two million in medical compensation. Following the board's decision, I fired her on the spot. My boyfriend did not object. In fact, he cooperated with me throughout the paperwork. One year later, at the celebration party for Grant Hale's promotion to CEO, I saw that same assistant again, dressed head to toe in luxury, standing beside him. Before I could react, Grant threw a termination agreement at me and announced in front of everyone that Chloe Vance would be taking over my position. His eyes were full of hatred as he gritted out, "Natalie, I have waited countless nights for this day. Didn't you love firing people? "How does it feel to be fired in public?" Everyone thought I would make a scene. Instead, I laughed, calmly removed my employee badge, and walked out. What Grant did not know was that the only reason he had been able to sit in the CEO's chair was because I had guaranteed him. The moment I left, every ounce of power in his hands would be revoked. His good days were officially over.

"Arabella listen to me, I didn't lie." "Of course you didn't, you just left out the truth! is your name even Brad?" I asked fuming. I can't believe I've been married to this man for five years without knowing who he really is. What if the pack finds out? "Bella, please listen it is important you keep this between us until I find a way around it." Is he for real? the whole pack will know of this soon enough and we will be banished, or worse. I look at Brad and for the first time, I felt sorry for him. He is exhausted, probably haven't had a good night sleep for days. I do I break it to him? "I'm sorry Brad, but it's too late." Arabella can take anything from her husband, his humiliation, nonchalance and affection towards her twin, but she can't stand lies. she finds out he is an imposter and the real Alpha is getting dangerously close to the pack. once he comes, They'll be kicked out, or executed. she has to do everything to keep her family safe, for the sake of her new baby. Djune, is on a revenge train, ready to make the pack who kill his father pay, it doesn't matter if it is originally his pack, he is not coming to sit on the Alpha throne, he is coming to destroy it and everyone in his path.

When the mafia heir, Marco Gallante, barged into the family vault with his mistress, I was standing before the Virgin Mary statue, cross-checking bloodstained ledgers. Fiore Albero cowered behind him, pointing at the ledgers in my hands and shrieking, "Marco, I'm scared..." I did not even bother looking up, just flicked the ash off my cigar. However, Marco kicked the desk over with one swift boot. "Chiara Moltisanti, Fiore can't stand the sight of all this blood and violence. Sign the divorce papers, now!" I stared at the mess scattered across the floor, thinking back to the pregnancy report the family doctor had handed me just ten minutes ago. The Gallante bloodline was dying out in this generation. Ever since the eldest son, Luca Gallante, died in that accident, Marco became the sole heir. The Don, Carmine Gallante, dreamed of nothing more than a legitimate boy of pure blood to carry on the family name and glory. So, I smiled, bright and sharp, with unmistakable mockery. "Perfect. Since you want true love, then the Don's throne will never be yours." Besides, I never wanted Marco, that useless fool. What I wanted was the Gallante empire, a mafia dynasty spanning three continents with 100 years of roots, and the control that left him with nowhere to run and no legs to stand on. This time, I would cut him out completely, keep the bloodline, and sit at the head of the family.

The past Day 159 after the first New Species were freed Joy tried to relax in the chair but worry over her client made her fidget. She glanced at the clock, noting he was late again. Minutes ticked by while her anger grew. It was the fourth session in a row that 466 had blown off. He did it on purpose. She knew he was going to be irate over what she’d done in retaliation but he’d left her with no choice. The loud sound of a menacing growl startled her. Her gaze flew to the door a second before it was thrown open. 466 hovered in the hallway, his rich brown hair messed up as if he’d dried it upside down with a blow dryer to give it that fullness. Rage showed in his narrowed, dark gaze. She guessed he’d been the source of the noise. He was pushed forward as one of the guards entered the office behind her client. “Here he is. He wasn’t happy but we got him.” The man shot a dirty look at 466. “Four of his men convinced him to come along or we would have had to drag his inside in shackles. He wanted to fight me.” She winced. “Please sit, 466.” “It seems I don’t have a choice.” He sauntered over to the chair in front of her desk and dropped his big body down hard enough to make the piece of furniture groan. “So much for saying we are free.”

Two days before my wedding, I was sorting through some old belongings when I suddenly remembered the time capsules Ethan Shaw and I buried ten years ago. His expression froze the moment he heard it. He tried to talk me out of going. “It’s been so long. Someone must’ve dug them up already.” I didn’t think much of it and went back to our old school on my own. But at the spot where we buried it, I unearthed five metal boxes of different sizes. Two of them were the ones Ethan and I buried a decade ago, now rusted all over. The other three didn’t belong there—one was just as rusty, while the remaining two looked brand-new. The old box had Rose Quinn’s name carved on it. On top were the words: “My secret crush was a war of myself. Ethan, I wish you happiness.” I remembered her then—an unremarkable girl who used to sit behind us. And the two new boxes were engraved with the names Ethan Shaw and Rose Quinn. The date marked on them was today. On Ethan’s box, it read: “My greatest regret in life is that I can’t give you a wedding.” On Rose’s box, it read: “My greatest regret in life is that I can’t openly wish you a happy wedding day.”

The last place Ava expected to see her ex-husband was the hotel bar on a rainy Thursday night in Manhattan. She froze the moment her eyes found him. Ethan Mitchell looked older. Broader. More tired. But the way he stood, one hand wrapped around a glass he had not touched, was painfully familiar. For a second, the noise around her faded. The laughter. The music. The clinking glasses. All she could hear was the echo of a life she once lived. She should have turned around. Instead, she walked closer. “Ethan.” He looked up, and whatever calm he had shattered instantly. “Ava.” Her name sounded different on his lips. Softer. Careful. Like something fragile. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said. “I didn’t either,” she replied, her voice steady even though her heart was not. They stood there, strangers tied together by memories too heavy to name. The divorce papers. The last argument. The silence that followed. “Do you want to sit?” he asked after a moment. She hesitated. Then nodded. It was supposed to be harmless. Just a drink. Just conversation. Just closure. But as the night stretched on, the distance between them shrank, and Ava realized something terrifying. Some loves do not die. They just wait. And that night, neither of them walked away. This is a story full of twist and emotions will the come back together after all these years of separation ? Or will they cheat on both of there spouses.