Angelina Dalles Novels & Stories

37. Aly strutted into the office with high spirits. Today was the day she signed the deal with one of the largest beauty companies in New Jersey. She took out her phone as she sat at her desk to see if she had received any notifications or messages from anyone. She remembered her phone buzzing last night, but she didn’t check who it was from.

•• I’m on my third glass of scotch, my eyes shifting to the main stage to watch m- Angel dance. She was wearing her signature blonde wig and a golden goddess themed lingerie set with matching mask and thigh high boots. She absolutely looked like a goddess, as if she was Aphrodite in the flesh. And she dances as if she was seducing men like me, daring them to touch her. My sweatpants tighten at the sight of her but I shook my head and removed my unholy thoughts. “I’m just here for the drinks…” I chant in my head repeatedly as I downed my last drink. I stood up and placed three hundred dollars on the counter as payment and tip for the bartender.

Angelina followed his gaze and gasped dramatically, slamming a hand on her chest. “Oh, you're with someone. I didn't quite notice. Hello, darling,” she said, locking her gaze on me. I forced a smile. “Good evening, Ms. Lancaster.” “You look familiar. Weren’t you at the Reagan Conference? Allwell Group?” I lifted my chin. “Yes, I was.” She chuckled dryly, looked me up and down. “You share quite a resemblance with someone I used to know.” She snapped her fingers at Alec. “Dear, do you remember that server girl from six years ago? The one who ran off from the hotel that morning, sobbing like a teenager?”

Little Angelina couldn't comprehend what she was looking at. She looked up at the lady holding the gun again just to be sure that it was her lovely mother. She blinked several times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Before she could say, Jack, Kathrine had pulled the trigger and shot the woman. Blood spilled on the floor with fragments of the woman's brain splattered all over the floor

"Like my wife said, we're happy to be here and are very grateful to be welcomed in such a good manner. As most of you know, I am Basha Siromani, and this is our daughter, Annabelle Ameera Siromani." Annabelle looked sort of annoyed when her dad called her Ameera but she covered it immediately. I wondered why, Ameera is a cute name. That was when I was able to take a good look at her. To say she looked stunning would be an understatement. Unlike the other girls, she wore something simple. It was just a plain navy blue dress that reached her ankles. Her jewelry wasn't shiny and she didn't have her glasses on. Annabelle gave a small wave and smiled after her dad introduced her.

everyone nodded. We decided the reception would be held at Dylans House, his reason was he wanted to show his support even though his situation was different he understood how Mike and Maya felt. the following morning after breakfast Charlie and I went to the mortal realm to get a dress, Charlie decided he would buy a suit as well, so off we went to the Trafford Centre, first we shopped for my dress, I opted for a golden dress, that flowed down to my ankles, it was low cut, and strapless, Charlie assured me that when Damon sees me in this dress he will die all over again, that made me blush.

Davis asked. "Our daughter had only one friend and that is Mrs Carter. When she comes to New York, she only stays in her house and Mrs. Carter's. She travelled to New York to mourn with her friend and we find out the very day she arrived in New York, she had an accident returning to the airport?" Mr Peterson said.

Excitedly, he was just about to open the hidden door when a crisp voice came from outside, and a girl walked into the room. "Sister!" the girl yelled; she was wearing a jade green long dress. She had long golden hair and exquisite features. Darryl had met her for the first time the previous night; it was Angeline, the Queen's sister. It was already too late for Darryl to hide when he saw her. Angeline had already seen him, and she stood still with shock.

The day I'll have to kill him, the killer of my father. Currently, I've the opportunity to strike him but unfortunately, today is April 1st. I'll keep waiting until... My name is Angelina Trump, a sex maniac and a stripper. That's my profession. "Oh yeah, bring it on, call me slut. I love that. Harder!"

Angelina asked her personal make-up artist to make up Alaya for her special day. Alaya stepped down the stairs, facing all the gazes of richest people from the state. She had a very light makeup revealing her innocent face in full glow. She didn’t wore hijab as her stepmother insisted her. Her long black hair with curls at end, swaying on her back, were breath taking for many men. As she reached, Wasim and Angelina stepped forward and hold her hand to introduce her to people.