Bio Untuk Second Account Lucu Novels & Stories

“No, no! You swapped my child! Give me back my son!” She babbled incoherently, her fear and fury impossible to hide. I stared at her, my lips slowly curling into a smile. “This is my son. Kenneth. How could he be yours? “It was your son who had a birthmark, not Kenneth.” I sighed and pulled out a stack of photographs. “I even asked the hospital to take photos of your child. You refused to pay for the burial, so I did it for you. “I know losing a son is heartbreaking, but you can’t really mistake my son for your own, can you?”

He scrolled through the werewolf social media account, studying each detail with predatory focus. "This is her main account," he observed. "Plenty of pictures from high school, college, art community." I nodded. "It seems legitimate." A strange expression crossed his face – not the rage I expected, but something almost like amusement. "She gave me a secondary account," he said softly. "Her backup." "Is that... good?" I ventured, unsure what to make of his reaction. Florian's lips curved into an unexpected smile. "Beautiful!" he exclaimed, handing the phone back to me. "Absolutely beautiful."

I set up a throwaway email account and then get started. Username? Ana Sun. I grin and sit cross-legged in my shadowy apartment, blocking out the noise in the walls. For the first time in weeks, I’m fully awake, and it’s past midnight. Bio? Hmm. Twenty-something trophy girlfriend/slut interested in life streaming and revenge. I take a selfie flashing my middle finger, and I upload it as the profile pic. Then I have to set a subscription rate. One thousand dollars a month. Nope. There I go undervaluing myself again. Five thousand dollars a month.

) Thank you again! #TeamAlba/Paul or #TeamAlba/Lucas ♡♡♡ #WeNeedAMateForLucas

She asked sarcastically, earning a startled scoff from me. “Oh wow, you have grown wings; I can see that. I mean, you now even dare to talk back to me.” She smirked. “I’ve always had wings, Luna Theresa. Always. You were just too full of yourself to notice that there were people better than you. However, I want to let you know today that you’re nothing.” “Tch.” I scoffed, my fists tightening beside me. “You're a worthless person who only steps on others to attain higher positions in life. But I want you to know that all that will come to an end, and you will have nothing but regret for all the actions you’ve committed.”

He looked so sure of what he said, even though he whispered it like he was scared of being wrong. I had imagined this moment many times. But not like this. Not in a karaoke room with his drunk sister sleeping on a sofa. Not when my mind was already stretched thin from everything that had happened. I swallowed. “I am not Claire,” I said quietly. He stared at me like he did not hear me well. “Isabella,” I continued, steadying my voice. “My name is Isabella.” His brows came together slightly. “You look exactly like her.” “Well, I am not her,” I said, lifting my chin a little just to give myself the strength I needed. “I don’t know who she is or why you think I look like her, but I am not.”

She pouted in realisation. “See. Tiny,” he teased and broke into laughter. She pulled away, pursing her lips. She wasn’t mad though. She found it kinda cute. He was so big and she was tiny. They both would make a cute couple. She stared at him and wondered if this thought had ever crossed his mind. A grin grew on her face as she found herself losing in the waves of his deep sonorous laughter. How someone can have such a burst of amazing laughter? “What’s the joke about?” Shanice set her bag down on the table and asked, interrupting their conversation. Serena sent a smile her way as Shanice took a seat beside Asher.

“It’s twins. I’m pregnant. With twins.” Luca stared at me. The battlefield was dead silent. A long moment passed, and then something flickered in his eyes… Wonder. “Twins?” he repeated softly, his voice breaking on the word. I nodded, tears slipping down again, this time not from fear—but from overwhelming relief. Ls And then, he soft beautiful smile appeared on his face, a tear slipping down his cheek. He grabbed me with both hands, kissed me hard on my lips. We shared in that warmth for a while before he pulled back then he whispered to my ear,

"No… no, this can't be!" Carrie shrieked. She ripped the birth certificate in her hands to shreds as if tearing truth itself apart. "This is fake! It's forged! Jessica, you framed me, you bitch!" Her eyes were bloodshot; her fingernails hovered inches from my face. On the screen behind her, the certificate declared, in cold printed words, that I—Jessica Wheaton—was Nick's biological daughter. Below the stage, Nick and my stepmother stood slack-jawed, the color draining from their faces until they looked cadaverous.

The company needs you—I need you! He grabbed my wrist, but I only laughed coldly and waved my phone in front of him. "Do you remember the day you signed the divorce papers? Christine messaged me right after, proudly telling me you slept with her. "I'm a germaphobe, Vincent. If I didn't have to come back to Camdonia for business, I would've made sure to never see you again." His face turned as pale as a sheet. "That was an accident," he mumbled. "I was drunk. I was devastated after you asked for a divorce—"