Loretta

Lorena is the story of a cute African white girl who meets with popular influencer and CEO of The trends magazine, Freddy Da Silva a citizen of a foreign country she loved. Lorena is a strong motivated young lady aiming the world so she could care for her mother and siblings, she is willing to go extra miles of working her life just so they are okay. ~~ Little did Lorena know traveling to Paris will lead her into stumbling with Freddy Da silva a C.E.O of The Trends magazines. Out there in that foreign land starts the rollercoaster ride of love, pressure, and endurance, differences, separations, lies and the forbidden for both lovers pushed their relationship away from things they believed and things that were forbidden. It all became a reality when Lorena was lucky to receive an invitation to study for free in a foreign country. It was a golden opportunity for her to meet new people and earn a living for herself. Studying was part of her dream but was she ready for the life set up for her in Paris? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lorena Jackson a die-hard workaholic working hard to help out her family and Freddy Da Silva a playful some times bipolar boss who picks an interest with the hardworking lady without thinking of the differences that stands between them, will their relationship as worker and employer turn out fine? Considering the circumstances around them? Lorena and Freddy are asked to choose their path but will the path they choose unite their love or break them apart?

Lorcé Callora, An eighteen-year old, aiming to go to college. Of course to study hard and become successful someday. Mysteriously, the academic girl who always pass gets rejected by every school she applied in. She was devastated until she received an unexpected admission email that changed the direction of the life she thought she would pursue.

The most reckless thing I had ever done was turn my back on the Moretti name and leave St. Clair Harbor with Lucian DeLuca when the Commission pushed his family out and he had nothing left. For three years, we lived in a drafty Brooklyn loft and ducked black Chevrolets on winter nights. Then Lucian fought his way back to the East Coast table. Everyone started calling him Mr. DeLuca again,and I became Mrs. DeLuca, the woman he swore he would always protect. Then Clara Voss appeared. She had once saved his life as a night nurse at an underground clinic, and Lucian never forgot it. He bought her a clinic, protected her family, and let her step, inch by inch, into the middle of our marriage. He said he still loved me, but he also said I was spoiled, jealous, and needed to learn my place. So I did. I signed the divorce papers and left New York behind. Mrs. DeLuca was dead. Evelyn Moretti had come back.

I have never been good at pretending not to notice when someone is manipulating me. When I was fourteen, a girl in my math class slipped a cheat sheet onto my desk as the teacher walked down our row. “Hold this for me,” she whispered. “Just until the test is over.” She expected me to hide it. Instead, I raised my hand. “Ms. Carter, Jenna put her cheat sheet on my desk and asked me to keep it for her.” No one at school ever asked me to “hold” something for them again. Then Lorenzo Moretti, Don of one of New York’s oldest families, found me and told me I was the daughter he’d lost twenty-five years ago. He held a dinner to introduce me to the family. Before I arrived, Sofia—the daughter they had raised—hid my place card and took the seat between my parents. “I’ve sat here for twenty-one years,” she said sweetly. “You don’t mind, do you?” Everyone expected me to smile, sit somewhere else, and prove I wasn’t a threat. I put my place card back on the table. “If this seat means nothing, why did you need mine?” Sofia cried. My mother rushed to comfort her, my three brothers followed her out, and my father lectured me about keeping the peace. It wasn’t the first time. They had missed three of my birthdays for Sofia, given her the bracelet engraved with my name, and turned the rooms promised to me into her private studio. Every broken promise came with a reasonable excuse, but every excuse ended the same way: Sofia came first, and I was expected to understand. They all believed I would tolerate anything for the Moretti name, their money, and their protection. The next morning, they abandoned me at the courthouse during my name-change appointment because Sofia claimed she couldn’t breathe. So I withdrew the petition, kept the name my adoptive mother gave me, and moved out with one suitcase. But after I left, why did every one of them regret it?

As the flames engulfed my body in the underground warehouse, I used the last of my strength to call my brother, the new Don of the Moretti family. Just as I was about to draw my last breath, Lorenzo finally answered, his voice as cold as the Sicilian winter wind. "Isabella, what the hell are you up to now?" "Brother, save me…" My voice was barely a whisper, but he cut me off without a hint of mercy. "Can't you go one day without causing trouble?" "Liliana's debutante dinner is next week. If you don't show up, I'll drag you back here myself." He hung up without a second thought, completely oblivious to the desperation in my voice. Despair mingled with the searing agony that wracked my body as the flames danced higher, and I couldn't hold on any longer. As I closed my eyes, tears still trickled from their corners. You won't have to drag me back, my brother. I'm never coming back.

Everyone in southern Italy knew that Lorenzo Moretti loved me like a madman. And yet he had been keeping a much younger woman in Naples. They said she looked just like I had years ago. He told people she was only a reminder of the woman he had once loved most. He also gave strict orders that no one was to let me hear about her. Until the day I found out I was pregnant. I went to his office to tell him the news myself, only to stop outside the door when I heard a young woman’s voice from inside. “Lorenzo… am I only here because I remind you of her?” The door was slightly ajar. Through the gap, I saw a young woman who looked too much like me, wrapped in his jacket and holding his glass. I stood there, barely breathing. Then I heard him answer. “Don’t compare yourself to her.” “She could never be what you are.” I turned and walked away without making a sound. That night, I called my mother. “Mother, I’ve made up my mind.” She was silent for a moment. “I want a fire,” I said. “Something no one survives. By the time it’s over, Sophia Moretti needs to be dead to the world.”