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Naruto Changes His Identity

Hidden Identity, Unveiled Love

"HER SECRET IS A KEY FOR HIM." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She's hiding her identity, and he's finding his parents. She's a spy, and he's a business tycoon. How did they meet? What happened to them after their first meeting? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Ann is alive, Granny!" John exclaimed, embracing his grandmother with a surge of joy that filled the room with warmth. John squeezed Granny Ria tightly, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around him. Tears glistened in her eyes as she clung to him, grappling with the weight of a truth she could scarcely bear to share. 'How can I possibly tell you, John?' Granny Ria worried silently. As John released his grandmother, his gaze darted to the living room, where two faces he recognized yet barely recognized stared back at him. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he contemplated the tension in the air. Memories flooded back—joyful teenage years brimming with laughter and love from his parents. But now, the happiness he once knew was eclipsed by a tightly clenched fist, his knuckles pale and tense. He turned sharply to Granny Ria, a fierce determination in his eyes. "Why are they here? I told you, Granny, I don’t want to see them!" he demanded, his voice echoing with unresolved pain. Granny Ria raised a hand, yearning to comfort her grandson, but he recoiled, knowing her allegiance would tilt towards her son and his wife. "Why the hell have you come back? You always show up right as I find my happiness! Just leave me alone!" John shouted, anger seeping from every word. His mother's eyes glistened with unspoken sorrow as she longed to reach out to him, to embrace him before he could push her away again, fearing he would reject her for the fact she sat in a wheelchair. With a heavy step, John’s father rose from the sofa and approached his son, who had shut his eyes tightly, emotion crashing over him like a wave. In a moment that evoked both fear and tenderness, John’s father enveloped him in a fierce hug. John, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotion, broke down, sobs pouring out like the rush of a storm. For the first time in years, he cried like a child, his father’s hand soothingly rubbing his back, a faint hope kindling in their shared moment. The day stretched endlessly for the Evans family, heavy with unspoken words and fractured bonds. After what felt like an eternity of tears, John blinked away the remnants of his grief and turned to his father, desperation in his voice. “Ann?” His father met his gaze, flooded with helplessness and compassion. Frozen in place, John surveyed the people who surrounded him—his father, mother, and beloved grandmother. Words escaped him as he turned and walked away, each step echoing the weight of his heart. The air hung thick with unspoken truths, and the night was just beginning. Stay tuned to know what happens next. ~~~~~~~~~~~•••••••••••••~~~~~~~~~~~~ MY OTHER BOOKS:- ~ Loving You With Everything I Have ~ Queen Of Darkness ~~~~~~~~~~~•••••••••••••~~~~~~~~~~~~
_hazel_black · 34K Views

His Charisma

Kiefer knew when he had contracted the Weave. He would suffer incessant nosebleed, raging headaches, auditory and visual hallucinations and occasionally lose consciousness. Those were the major symptoms of the Weave. These symptoms would continue for what seemed like forever. Scraping away at his increasingly fragile mind, rendering every night more fearful than the last. -•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•- When the clock would strike midnight, his sheets could usually be found slick with sweat, sticking to his body and getting even more soaked. Kiefer would try to move his limbs but they never really responded. His eyelids were shut tightly as he couldn't even open them. He would struggle and struggle one too many times to open them but they weren't exceptions in whatever was happening to him. But his ears? His ears picked up every single sound that surrounded him. Sometimes, Kiefer would hear one too many voices speaking at the exact same time, that they began translating into bundles and bundles of gibberish. His head ached terribly and he could do absolutely nothing about it. Trauma. While his eyes were shut, visions of vile and rabid monsters would charge at him from caves and clearings he could never quite make out. Their eyes, bloodshot, their teeth more like fangs dripping with crimson red blood, trying so desperately to rip the poor boy apart. Trauma. Kiefer would now and then try his hardest to wake himself up from the turbulent nightmare but it really did seem like the Weave hadn't had enough fun with him. -•-•-•- Kiefer would occasionally find himself tethering on the edge of the narrowest piece of boulder on what seemed to be a cliff. Looking down, his eyes would widen and his face would contort with fear as molten magma thrashed turbulently just few inches below his feet, burning and scalding his feet repeatedly. Then, all too suddenly, the cliff would melt and Kiefer would find himself falling back-first, his hands fluttering in the air, trying to grab onto whatever came into his grip to save himself. A guttural scream would escape his lips and echo off the far walls as he plunged deep into the boiling magma. -•-•-•- He wakes up with a start every new day, his forehead slick with sweat, his nightwear damp and his hair even damper. Soon, Kiefer didn't need a diviner to tell him the Weave was out for his heart. SUPPORT THIS NOVEL TO KEEP US MOTIVATED!!! FOLLOW INSTA ACCOUNT @guordio_masetti
guordio_masetti · 10.1K Views
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