Novels by Shooting star

Dante walked toward his car, the chauffeur opening the door with a respectful nod before sliding into the driver’s seat. Dante removed his shades as the car eased into motion toward the company.The moment the car screeched to a halt and he stepped out, he instantly sensed something off.Employees were staring far more than usual. Whispers moved across the lobby like a quiet storm. Their eyes followed him, not with admiration, and not with fear, but with unsettling curiosity.He ignored it, forcing his mind back to work as he headed into his office. He sat, opened his laptop, and remembered his phone had died earlier. Plugging it in, he pushed it aside. He needed to prepare something, anything, to say to the shareholders in the upcoming meeting.But the moment the screen lit up, notifications exploded across it.Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.More than fifty messages and missed calls.With a deep frown, he picked up the phone.What he saw froze him.Headline: “Montclair Heir, Dante Montclair

Reese hung up only to turn around and see Danae standing in front of her, her arms folded across her chest, eyes glaring daggers.Danae suddenly smirked as she began to clap. “Just wow, Reese, who would have thought you were such a conniving bitch who hides under the pretense of being innocent?”The shocked expression still lingered on Reese’s face as she stared at Danae with mixed emotions, unaware of what to say, knowing fully well Danae heard her entire conversation.Reese couldn’t help but think Danae would inform everyone, and then the Montclairs would turn their backs on her, and she could kiss Dante goodbye. The thought sent shivers down her spine.“What do I do now? Think!” Reese said to herself inwardly.“Danae, I’m so sorry!” Reese broke into tears as she fell to the ground dramatically. “What was I supposed to do? I am helplessly in love with your brother and I couldn’t sit back and watch him slip from my hand!”Danae balled her fist, her chest rising and falling with rapid

By the next morning, the cruel headlines had begun to fade away. Within just a few hours, the public’s opinion had shifted completely. The same people who once dragged Ashley through the mud were now singing her praises, calling her strong, graceful, and misunderstood.As the chaos died down, Ashley couldn’t have felt more grateful to have Dante in her life. She smiled softly as she walked into the living room holding a tray.“Here’s your breakfast,” she said, handing him a plate of toast.Dante took it with a faint smirk. “You made this yourself?”Ashley nodded and sat beside him on the couch, watching him take a bite. “Thank you for everything, Mr. Montclair,” she said warmly.He glanced at her, his expression softening. “I told you, I’d take care of it,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before stroking her hair gently.Ashley’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before her tone dropped. “But… who could have done this to us?” she murmured, more to herself than

The morning broke with chaos.Brighton’s usual buzz had turned into a full-blown media circus. Every news outlet, blog, and gossip site was flooded with clips of Jude Alcott’s parents , their voices trembling with emotion, their carefully crafted outrage echoing across screens.“Ashley Kingsley ruined our son’s life,” Mrs. Alcott said, dabbing her eyes dramatically with a tissue as the cameras zoomed in. “He loved her. He gave her everything. And she threw him away for money.”Her husband leaned forward, his tone sharp. “She left Jude right before their engagement party, disappeared overnight, chasing a richer man. It broke him. He quit medicine because of her.”Reporters leaned in closer, hungry for more.“Are you referring to President Dante Montclair?” one of them asked.Mr. Alcott didn’t hesitate. “Everyone knows what happened. She moved from one man’s arm to another’s. Tell me, what kind of woman does that?”The room went quiet, just for a second — the silence before the explosio

The day after the scandal broke, both companies bled in silence.At Brighton Group, the atmosphere was tense enough to cut through. Every conversation was a whisper, every stare a blade. Ashley walked through the hallways she once commanded with confidence, now feeling like an intruder in her own office.The HR director wouldn’t meet her eyes. The interns went quiet the second she entered the elevator. Even the receptionist, who used to smile every morning, pretended to type.A meeting was held called. “Crisis Communication.”Ashley sat across from her boss and Simon, her boss, who looked ten years older overnight. His tie was loosened, his expression grim.“Ms. Kingsley,” he started, voice heavy, “the board is panicking.”“I know,” she said quietly. “I’ve seen the numbers.”Brighton’s stock had dipped three percent since morning. Sponsors had paused collaborations. Every hour, another article questioned the company’s “ethics.”Her boss exhaled. “They’re calling for a temporary suspen

The morning light crept through the curtains, spilling across the bed where Ashley still slept. For once, her mind was still. No deadlines. No whispers. Just the steady rhythm of Dante’s breathing beside her.It felt like peace, the kind she hadn’t tasted in years.Her phone buzzed on the nightstand once. Then again. Then again.She stirred, frowning, half-asleep. The vibration didn’t stop. It grew louder, constant, as if the entire world was trying to reach her at once.With a groggy sigh, she reached for it, squinting at the bright screen.134 missed calls. 89 unread messages. 200+ mentions.Her heart skipped.She sat up slowly, scrolling through the notifications — news alerts, gossip updates, social media tags. The words Ashley Kingsley flashed again and again.#AshleyKingsleyExposed#MontclairAffair#GoldDiggerHer throat went dry.“What the…” she whispered, unlocking her phone.The first thing she saw was a headline, bold and cruel, glowing against the white screen:“CEO’s Mistr