Because You Re Mine Claire Contreras Novels & Stories

She turned her questioning gaze back to Antony, who shrugged. Claire chuckled. "Is this it?" She gestured around the pool area. "Did you clear this place out for me?" she asked, her tone doubtful. Antony nodded. "Are you trying to show off your wealth to me now?" she asked, clearly displeased. Antony fell silent. "I don't like arrogant, conceited playboys like you. So just stop; you don't need to overdo it," Claire said, attempting to swim to the surface once again, but Antony blocked her path yet again.

And Dominic Sterling valued certainty in women above almost everything else. ***** By morning, Claire Hughes uploaded another video. No dramatic lighting. No edits. No makeup team. Just Claire sitting near her apartment window with exhaustion carved beneath her eyes. Which somehow made the video more devastating. The title alone spread across every platform within minutes. HE NEVER LOVED US. HE USED US. Emma watched part of it silently from her office desk while legal files remained untouched beside her coffee. Claire looked directly into the camera. “This isn’t a revenge series,” she said quietly.

CLAIRE He was Matthew Alaric Kingsley, the man I had rejected in high school because I loved Charles more back then. And now, he reappeared. Unbidden and suddenly in front of me, helping me. "What's going on with you, Claire?" That deep voice entered my ears like a high-speed train that unceremoniously woke me up from the dark, lightless room. Then his eyes descended to watch my belly. "Are you pregnant?" I shook my head weakly. "I used to be. But not anymore."

Why is she calling at such an odd hour? "What is it?" I ask, impatient, hands on laptop. "Did I wake you from a bad sleep?" Concern etched in her voice. "You know I don't sleep." I yawn over the phone, getting tired of small talk. Claire is always like this: juicy gossips about town when her head is supposed to be on numbers. "We got the contract, Lavanda!" She screams over the phone. "What!" I remove my glasses in disbelief. The same contract that had lots of competitors.

The prescription would cost at least forty. Got it. How was the calc test? Aced it! MIT here I come! Claire smiled despite her exhaustion. Clara was going to MIT. No matter what it took. That night, lying in the bed she shared with Clara, Claire pulled out Damian Cole's business card. She'd looked him up during break. Thirty-two. Self-made billionaire. Photos showed him at galas with beautiful women, always perfect, always untouchable. And she'd dumped coffee on him. Clara peered over her shoulder. "Who's that?"

Claire and her family went to Kempinski for dinner while Wendell was sulking at home. He saw the post from Emgrand Group’s official page, feeling very depressed and dejected. He thought that it would be absolutely impossible for Claire to win the contract, but unexpectedly, it had only taken her half an hour to score a sixty million dollar contract. Recalling his harsh and scornful remarks at her place yesterday, he was extremely embarrassed as the remarks came back as a slap in his face!

She smiled and continued, "My apologies for not introducing myself. I'm Claire Raphaela de Zielony. Nice to finally meet you, Minerva Chrysalis de Ivrea." What... the heck?

“Baby… you underestimate how shameless some women can be.” She reached for her phone and tapped the screen a few times. “Someone sent me something. I wasn’t even sure if I should show you.” Damien looked at the phone, then back at her. His chest felt tight. His head swam. “Show me.” Clara turned the screen toward him. It was a video. Blurry. Dark. Loud music in the background. A woman on a dance floor, laughing, moving. The lighting made it hard to see her face clearly, but the angle, the hair, the body shape—Clara had chosen it carefully.

The ladies stepped out of the room and saw Claire still standing in her spot with her hands crossed under her boobs, and her gaze locked on them. "Her?" One of the ladies asked Maya. "Yes, her. That is Claire Emir in case you don't know." "Claire Emir?" One of them scoffed, "How are we supposed to know that she is the one? She doesn't look so powerful at first glance." That got Claire's legs going to their side, "I don't have to place an inscription on my forehead that I am Claire Emir, but at least, my name gets you banned and no VIP club like this would accommodate you again. That is what I call power."

She took a deep sigh as she thought that its seemed like its better to convince the mere rouges than Treznor's group. "Take this." Claire took something inside her pocket. "What is this?" Treznor asked as he saw the piece of paper that Claire give to him. "That is the photo of the King's Luna. The heir of the Vermont's family. If you used that bitch, you will gain wealth and you may get the attention of the king." "Keke. Got it." Treznor briefly said and he ordered his men to start the car. "Shit!" Claire whispered and she looked at the direction where the troop of Treznor went.