Novels by Joy Lova

As Officer Smith stood there, stunned by the reporter's announcement that they were live on social media, panic began to creep in. She realized that her hasty dismissal of Vanya and Carlin's report was now being broadcast for the world to see, and she couldn't afford to talk rashly any longer.‌The viewers, who had tuned in to the live broadcast, began to question the truth of Vanya's earlier words aimed at Officer Smith. They typed furiously in the comment section, demanding answers and clarification.‌One viewer wrote, "Did Officer Smith really turn down evidence of a corporate scandal? That can't be true, can it?"‌Another viewer chimed in, "This sounds fishy. Why would the police dismiss such an important report?"‌Officer Smith felt the pressure mounting as she desperately tried to come up with a way to save face and protect her position and the reputation of the entire police institution.‌

Vanya and Carlin, clutching the stolen documents tightly, burst out of the Autoekomsten Corporation and into the bustling city streets. Their hearts were still pounding from their daring escape, but they knew that their mission was far from over.‌Vanya, her fiery red hair billowing behind her, hailed a passing taxi with a dramatic wave. "Quick, Carlin! To the nearest police station!"‌Carlin, always the meticulous planner, quickly got into the taxi and urged the driver to step on it. "Make it snappy, my good man! Time is of the essence."‌Little did they know that a black sedan had been discreetly tailing them since their exit. Inside the sedan, Agent Harris and her team were in hot pursuit, determined to catch up with the elusive thieves.‌Agent Harris, her patience wearing thin, muttered to herself, "These two are more slippery than a bar of soap in a sauna."‌As they weaved through the

Gregory's temper simmered as he wiped the hot coffee from his suit, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The audacity of his nephew Kevin, along with Carlin, Vasky, and Vanya, had pushed him to the brink. They may have stolen his secret documents and his precious jar of pickles, but they were gravely mistaken if they thought they could outsmart him.‌After the shock of their brazen theft, Gregory wasted no time. He reached for his phone, the touch screen lighting up with his practiced fingertips as he dialed the number for his security team. He knew that retrieving those documents, containing the damning evidence of his criminal activities, was paramount. His entire empire hung in the balance.‌"Security, this is Gregory," he said with a tone of urgency as the call connected. "We have intruders in my study. I need them apprehended immediately. No, don't wait. I want them stopped now."‌As Gregory issued the commands, his mind

The morning sun bathed the scene as the trio stood outside the imposing walls of Autoekomsten, each prepared to play their part in this high-stakes charade. Carlin and Vanya appeared the part of legitimate employees, their attire and demeanor blending seamlessly with the corporate landscape.‌And then there was Vasky.‌In a sea of contemporary fashion, Vasky stood out like a time traveler who had stumbled upon the 21st century. His outfit, a mismatch of colors and patterns, seemed to defy the very laws of fashion coherence. Carlin, quick as ever, wasted no time seizing the opportunity for a light-hearted jab.‌"Vasky," she teased, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips, "you look like the result of a fashion experiment gone awry. Did you raid a costume store from the '90s?"‌Vasky's expression was a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Carlin," he retorted, his tone laced with dry humor, "some of us appreciate timeless cl

On the designated day, the air was charged with anticipation as Kevin and Vasky embarked on their rendezvous to strategize against the looming shadow of Gregory. The weight of Gregory's influence gnawed at Kevin's authority, a constant reminder of the battle they were about to wage.‌Kevin's steps were measured yet purposeful, his demeanor a blend of determination and exasperation. As he neared the cafe, he couldn't help but feel like a leader in name alone, a puppet whose strings were held by an unseen puppeteer.‌Vasky, the embodiment of precision, walked beside him like a strategist preparing for a war council. His thoughts were a symphony of plans and contingencies, a testament to his analytical prowess.‌“Kev, is it just me or do the people look at us funny?” asked Vasky out of the blue while forcing an awkward smile, only to be equalled by his very own quirky penguin walk.‌Kevin smirked. “Nah, it’s just your imagination, Vash. Or perhaps they think we’re a couple. I mean, w

The courtroom erupted like a volcano finally unleashed. The witnesses' revelations, direct and unfiltered, detonated a cascade of gasps and whispers that filled the room. The air buzzed with disbelief, as if the walls themselves were echoing the seismic impact of the truth.‌The judge's decision, a punctuation mark in this symphony of revelations, hung in the air like a heavy fog. The gavel's thud resonated through the room, marking the culmination of this dramatic trial. It was a verdict that bore the weight of justice served.‌Outside the courtroom, the scene was no less frenzied. Reporters swarmed Gustav like a storm of inquiries. Microphones thrust toward him resembled an intimidating forest of metal and wires. The questions rained down like a torrential downpour, each drop seeking to quench the public's thirst for clarity.‌Gustav, the epitome of controlled rage, faced the onslaught with an expression twisted by fury. His lips moved, forming words that a maelstrom of anger had