An Unseemly Lady Spoiler の小説・ストーリー

No one stepped forward. These were women from many prominent packs around Crescent Bay. Each one carried secrets - some dark, some dangerous. Who in their right mind would dare stand there, stripped bare for all to see, every gaze dissecting them like a living exhibit? "Seems everyone's playing humble today," Mrs. Thornton drawled, faking disappointment. "In that case... we'll let the tarot lady pick again." As her words faded, the sharp click of heels echoed. The tarot lady turned gracefully on the spot, her black pointed stilettos slicing into the silence. The tip steadied like a drawn arrow, zeroing in on someone trembling at the back - Elinor.

Shirley casually replied, "There are always some coincidences in the world, just resemblances." The lady shook her head, saying, "If it were just a resemblance, I wouldn't have said anything." Before the lady could finish, the hostess coughed loudly, interrupting her. Who let this clueless woman in here? Shirley wondered, feeling a tug of suspicion. She just had a feeling that this lady must know something. "What's your name, Madam?" Shirley extended goodwill towards her. The brash lady finally caught on a bit late, and answered in a fluster, "My husband's surname is Turner."

Despite the summer heat, a single low-burning hearth crackled between them, its warmth doing little to ease the chill in the air. Neither reached for the tea offered by the servant. “You return with such nobility draped about you?” Elara’s voice rang with scorn, each word dipped in venom. “Who led you to believe that a woman of your ruinous reputation might still dazzle the eye?” Lady Scarlet said nothing. She only sat, her back straight, her fan moving in slow, measured strokes like the ticking of a finely made clock.

One of the summoned ghosts, a lady in waiting killed for her habit of eavesdropping and spying on people and then casually revealing their secrets in front of everyone—a dangerous pastime in any era—was still hovering in front of me. “Whom did my uncle sleep with over the last three months?” “Baroness Airel. Viscountess Latour. Countess Jolin.” “And the only one pregnant is...” “The viscountess.” Carlie...what a spiderweb. I wondered who had been the first, my uncle or the viscount? Or had Carlie decided to use her condition? Before, I hadn’t questioned the ghosts about that, it had been too painful. It didn’t matter anymore, though.

Judy turned to Calvin and asked who scrambled like a chick being in face with an eagle. "She bought this place" Calvin said and the shock was evident in her face how could she afford to do that how could she even do that. "Look at what my affair brought me" Astrid said with a proud smirk on her face a well deserving response was one she gave her. "So what if you had an affair with a rich man,just stay away from my husband." Just said raising her chest at her, Astrid rolled her eyes and said. "I couldn't be less interested in your husband"

" I shout, shoving my hands into my hair in frustration. Lily smirks, shaking her head as she opens her bag and pulls out a set of photos. She slaps them down on the table, and my heart skips a beat as I see Jasmine's face staring back at me. "Go ahead, take a look," Lily says, her voice dripping with malice, as she points to the pictures. "I think you'll find them quite...enlightening." My mind racing, I hesitate, wondering what secrets the photos might reveal. But curiosity gets the better of me, and I pick one up, my heart pounding in anticipation. I don't want to look, but I can't help myself. The photos show Jasmine in bed with different men, clearly taken at various times. My heart sin

Liam's in for a world of trouble! °°°F.G°°°

Still sleepy, she blinks at the screen and opens the alert mindlessly. Her heart skips a beat. The screen reflects her face, and the strong headline almost shouts at her: Elizabeth Carter: The Untold Truth Behind Her Rise—Scandal and Deceit Exposed. As her brain interprets the message, the words blur. She reads it once more. The reality? Which truth? Scrolling through the piece, her breath freezes as the words warp, twisting into unfounded charges. It depicts her as someone she does not know—vicious, cunning, ready to ruin everyone to advance. Half-truths, exaggerated facts, and just enough to make her seem guilty fill the narrative.

At least someone was happy in this place. And then, my mood soured fast. I spotted a man completely butchering a cake I’d made. Murdering it with his fork, to be exact. I silently grieved for the hours of effort wasted. *That beautiful cake... gone.* If I weren’t on shift, I’d have marched over and slapped that fork out of his hand. "Hey, you!" A sharp, annoying voice pierced my thoughts. I blinked, drawn back to reality. In front of me stood the woman from hell—an irritated, over-dressed lady with a scowl.

She refused to do anything until she was sure to rip out the money on me. "Thought you were joking initially," she snatched the money from my outstretched hands. I smirked, "do I look like I was joking?" "Come, press your thing in me," she laid back on her back, her breasts jumping as she fell. I should have been attracted by her curves and lithe figure, but her derriere only beckoned me to her. I chuckled. Sex these days to most ladies has lacked intimacy, she was an example. At least, Hilary was better.