Novel & Cerita 215 Lexington Avenue New York

The cream of New York society mingled with champagne flutes and expensive jewelry glittering under the lights. "Lucian, darling!" A woman with silver hair and pearls approached us. "How wonderful to see you." "Mrs. Whitmore," Lucian smiled, "I'd like you to meet Lexi Carter. Lexi, this is Dorothy Whitmore, she's on the board of the Morrison Foundation." "It's lovely to meet you, dear," Mrs. Whitmore said, but her eyes were calculating as they looked me up and down. "I've read so much about you in the papers."

Slow and shaky, she was able to dial the number and in less than a minute, the call connected. “911 what's your emergency?” She heard a feminine voice on the other end of the line. A slight glance at Emily's cold, lifeless body was enough to burst into tears and panic set in as she tried to gather the words. Firstly, it was her phone, now she could not even find the right words. “7- 789, Lexington Avenue,” she stammered, wiping off the catarrh that she could feel rolling into her mouth. “Apartment 48, 10065.”

Clean, dark, and damn him, perfectly suited to his face. “You’re going to make my life difficult.” I blinked once, then forced the corner of my mouth up. “Thank God. For a second there, I was worried my dress wasn’t contributing enough.” :::: Nicholas’s business associate’s house stood on the Upper East Side with the kind of silence only old, rich buildings possess. Golden lights glowed warmly behind the tall windows. A row of black cars lined the curb. From the outside alone, the place already looked like the kind of setting where people made million-dollar decisions while holding champagne and smiling like their sins were tax-deductible.

They are the building I have been designing in my head for thirty-one years. It has your name on it. Both of them. — M Elena looked at the letter. At the green ink. At the two final sentences. It has your name on it. Both of them. She looked at Dominic in the doorway. He looked at the letter in her hand. Outside the penthouse window, the New York skyline made its indifferent case for permanence. The skyline that Edward Ashford had looked at in 1935 and seen possibilities in. That Victoria had spent forty years building toward.

She had underestimated my bite, but she was already plotting a counter-strike. Lexi pulled out her phone and dialed the Steele Industries branch office. "Hello, Mr. Skimmer? It's Lexi Hart. I’ve heard about the plans to demolish the Pacific Street Cafe area for the new shifting grounds. I want to oversee the field operations personally. Can I visit the branch tomorrow?" On the other end, Randy Skimmer was quick to comply. "Of course, Ms. Hart. The daughter of the Lane family is always welcome. We’ll show you exactly how we handle 'stubborn' residents."

DAMIEN “We have to hit Yorkville on First Avenue. That old geezer in there did not pay last month’s kickback. He owes a thousand. Drake, you have Park Avenue, The Franklin Hotel. The owner’s name is Franco. He already paid. Just collect the invoice from him.”

I joked, tossing a couch pillow her way. On our way , I called my parents to fill them in on my job, and they were super excited and proud of me. They wished me luck! When Lila pulled up in front of Walton Apex Capital, she turned to me and asked if I was ready. I told her I was more than ready, taking a deep breath. She smiled and said, 'That's my girl!' As I got out of the car, I watched Lila drive off and looked up at the tall glass building in front of me. Walton Apex Capital was a sleek fifty-five-story tower made of steel and glass, reflecting the morning sunlight and standing proudly in the Manhattan skyline..

Chapter Five: Separate Worlds The aroma of fresh espresso and warm croissants filled Evelyn’s Chelsea studio as golden morning light streamed through the skylights. She sat at her large oak desk, reviewing the final contract for the Tribeca townhouse project. Marcus Hale had pushed the paperwork through overnight, and the numbers were impressive—enough to establish Evelyn Langford Designs as a serious player in Manhattan’s competitive interior design scene.

Now I was back, stronger, sharper, ready to take back what was mine. The car pulled up to a gleaming glass tower on the Upper East Side. I recognized it from my research, The Apex, one of the most exclusive residential buildings in Manhattan. Penthouses started at twenty million. Of course Vanessa lived here. I stepped out, smoothing down my jacket. The doorman was already approaching. "Name?" "Mabel James. I have an appointment with Ms. Latham." He checked his tablet. "ID, please." I handed over my driver's license. He scanned it, then nodded. "Take the private elevator to the penthouse. Ms. Chen will meet you."

A rlington Avenue, might be one of the easy going towns in Brooklyn, New York, but deep inside its heart laid one of the dopest buildings in all of Brooklyn, the lighthouse. The lighthouse made more crazy noise than the entire Yankee stadium and had more lightening on its dance floor than ‘club la-vela,’ the largest nightclub in the United States of America.