Nobela ni Rich

Lana's POV."Yes, thank you ma'am." I added with a bow even though the person on the other end of the phone could not see me.I burst into Max's library after politely hanging up the phone, excitement radiating from every pore. "Max, I have the most amazing news!" I exclaimed, hardly able to contain myself.I had just received the call of a lifetime: the Smiths, one of the richest families in town, had given me the contract to design the wedding dress for their daughter's wedding. A dream come true, I couldn't wait to share it with Max.Max looked up from the papers he was studying, his face unreadable. "What is it, Lana?" he asked in that dry and unenthusiastic tone of voice.I took a deep breath and tried to catch it in. "I just got a call from the Smiths' wedding planner; they've awarded me a contract to design the wedding dress for their daughter's wedding!" I exclaimed, expecting some semblance of reaction from him again.But Max didn't change his expression. He nodded slightly,

Lana's POV.I stood in front of the mirror, surrounded by a group of maids all trying to doll me up for the big day. They chattered and laughed as they worked, but I was silent-a thousand miles away.How did I end up here? I thought, my eyes glazing over as I stared at my reflection. Just a couple of weeks ago, I was working as a lowly receptionist, barely making ends meet. And now, I was about to marry one of the wealthiest men in the city.But as I thought of my mother, of how healthy and happy she was now that she'd gotten the surgery, courtesy of Max, my thoughts were tempered. I'd done this for her, I reminded myself. I'd made this sacrifice for her.Until at last, they finished their job, and I was transformed into a bride. My hair flowed in soft cascades down my back, the makeup was subdued yet elegant, and my white wedding gown fitted to perfection.But I did not see a bride beautiful standing and staring back in the mirror, but a girl who had sold herself for the health and l

Lana's POVI looked up at the person I'd bumped into, and my heart sank. He looked like a Greek god and his well tailored suit that looked like it probably costs more than I’ve earned my whole life made a pit form in my stomach."Oh no, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, shaking my voice, stepping away from him. "I am so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going."I turned around and walked off quickly, cursing the fact that this could be the most horrible beginning to a day. First, depressing news from a doctor, a boss refusing the request, now this bumping into some wealthy man who might just report this to my boss and get me fired.As I walked, I felt the pricking of tears at the corners of my eyes, trying to hold them in to no avail. I started sobbing, cursing my fate."Why does this always happen to me?" I said to myself in a sad and shaking voice. "Can't I ever get a good break? Why does my mother need to fall ill? Why would my boss need to refuse me?"I went into the hall where my loc

Max's POV I stood at the bar, nursing a glass of scotch as I scanned the crowded room. The charity gala was in full swing, the city elite of werewolves mingling, laughing with one another. Soft strains of live jazz filtered across the room with clinking glasses and the hum of polite conversation. I had been seen, it would appear I was supposed to be seen, but growing in my tummy all night, the feeling of being uneasy wouldn't leave me.As I prepared to turn away, my glance met that of one of my friends-an Alpha too and a close one-Lucas. An eyebrow shot up, accompanied by a mischievous grin."Hey, Max, still flying solo, I see," he said loudly enough for the whole room to hear.I felt a burst of anger but kept my cool. "Just enjoying the evening, Lucas," I said with a neutral tone.But Lucas wasn't quite done. "You know, Max, some of us are starting to wonder if you're ever going to find a mate," he jeered. "Maybe you're just not cut out for it."I felt the flush of his anger, but b

Lana’s POVI sat in the cold, sterile room of the hospital; the scent of antiseptic and sickness hung heavy within the air. My mother lay in the bed, her body frail and with machines and wires hooked on her. There was only a soft beeping of the monitors in the quiet of the room, a relentless reminder of just how fragile things were.I felt the doctors words echo-against my skull, cold, landing hard blows one after another on my already fragile mind: critical condition, urgent surgery, no guarantees.It felt like someone kicked me in the guts, sucking all the air from my lungs. My head was a jumble of fear and panic. How was I to be able to afford surgery? I didn't have any savings; I didn't have any family. My mother's medical bills were already growing, while I wasn't able to do much at all. My job drained me and gave me pennies as compensation.The doctor's voice cut through my thoughts, firm but sympathetic. "Miss Reynolds, I'm afraid we can't delay any longer. Your mother needs