Being The Other Woman Book Romane & Geschichten

My mother opened the door and froze when she saw a group of uniformed police officers standing outside. Behind them stood Janice, tense but steady. No one knew what she had gone through over the past two weeks, but she looked like a different person. Her face, once soft and bright, had gone pale as paper, with dark circles heavy under her eyes. I looked at her and felt my hand tighten without thinking. Somewhere along the way, after all those late nights studying side by side, I had fallen for her.

she thought with determination. She went solemnly into the bathroom and had a quick shower, before coming back into the kitchen. She prepared the meal and placed it in the microwave to keep it hot for when Clive would get back. She was determined she wasn't going to step out of the house, do that her treacherous body would not lead her to the bar and to Alpha Elliot. She picked a book tl read but it was a romance novel, reminding her that she needed more romance in her life. She didn't want to think about romance - secret and forbidden romance and Alpha Elliot. She kept the book back and picked a magazine and turned quickly to the fashion page. She was absorbed in it for sometime till she go

Just like mine. As she takes my son from me, his warmth leaving my chest, I suddenly start feeling weak. A heavy, unnatural drowsiness pulls at my bones. My eyes start getting blurry, the edges of the bathroom tilting. Then another woman walks in. She’s brisk, professional. A man follows her, his presence large and blocking the doorway. "You don't have to clean him up," the new woman says to Gabrielle, her voice all business. "Quick, we have to make the transfer before Lucille gets to the hospital."

Written before Kai finally succeeded. My voice barely emerged above a whisper. "There was another woman." The library fell silent. Adrian's eyes narrowed. "What?" I looked up slowly. Shock rippled through every part of me. Because the sentence was unmistakable. The woman who wrote this wasn't confused, hallucinating or imagining things. She had seen something or someone.

"I thought I was different. I thought he actually cared about me. But I was just another tool. Another person he used and threw away." "How did you know Lucas? Before Rachel died?" Alice hesitated. I could see her weighing how much to reveal. "We met through work. I was doing administrative work at the hospital where Rachel gave birth. Lucas and I became friends. Then more than friends." She looked at me. "I know what you are thinking. I was the other woman. The mistress. And you are right. But I loved him. I thought he loved me too." "When did Rachel die?"

"Patrick, do you really have to be like this? How can you be so cold? I already told you—I'll marry you eventually. What difference does sooner or later make? Shawn is sick. What right do you have to treat him like this?" Beside her, Shawn kept his head down, tears streaming steadily. I finally stopped packing and looked up at the two of them standing there shoulder to shoulder. The way they played off each other was a perfect match, honestly. A laugh escaped me. Watching the woman I once loved fuss over another man as if he were the only thing that mattered—I won't lie, it hurt.

I didn't have a chance to see her face because I lost my consciousness. --- THE END. SEE YOU IN BOOK 2 :')

I was silently enjoying the fireworks after igniting the end of the rope, and suddenly, a stern voice from behind put an end to this show! “Enough! Go back to the hall of beauty and wait for me in the meeting room, ladies.” A white-haired, middle-aged woman who looked like the boss of harem, ordered the ladies, sending them away. What a waste! Then she turned and her blazing eyes fell at me, sinking my heart. My throat tightened as she grabbed that book as a weapon and walked towards me, “Did you take out this book, omega?”

“Oh really? Wasn’t it you who jumped on me last night?” Scarlett turned over and squealed, “You’re shameless!” Francis twisted his legs around Scarlett’s, and the two were intertwined. “Yes, I’m shameless.” How had other women felt after the first time they had had sex? Scarlett wondered. Had they felt excited? Exhausted? Hungry for more? So unexpectedly, she had spent her first night with a man called Francis. He was very aggressive and dominating in bed, but she felt blissful when the two of them were together nonetheless.

But neither did I retreat. "I'm just saying," I muttered instead, not in the mood to argue with him. I pushed past him, "if she's half as deadly as she's classy, we're all fucked. "And if you mess this up," he bellowed after me, "you'll be the one to ruin the last hope this company has." I didn't answer him. But I knew what I saw in that woman's eyes, and it wasn't just “intelligence”. It was a calculating edge. And something colder.