Booktok Dior Mga Nobela at Kwento

“After everything.” I hesitate, then nod. “I do.” It feels almost dangerous to say. After paying without blinking at the total, I step back into the corridor. Shoppers drift past us in slow waves. No one stares no whispers. For a moment, I feel almost human again. I pause near the escalator. “Just one more stop,” I say. Carlos lifts an eyebrow. “One?” “I promise.” He gestures for me to lead. We stop outside the Dior storefront. The glass is spotless, the logo gleaming in understated silver letters. Inside, marble floors and cream walls frame displays of handbags and shoes arranged like art.

He signals with his finger. I gulp down the saliva in my mouth, wishing to finish up within this time. Since he's implying I get fast, I'll also put on my dress so fast that before he gets to look at me twice, I'm already covered. I grin slightly. I just defeated his plan. Upon opening the package, I realize that both the shirt and suit are designed and buttoned in a totally different fashionable way. This is a Dior product, I'm quite sure it must be a sample model product, besides this I haven't used such expensive products before.

I saw Sean slowly shaking his head at the excited behavior of the two women; it seemed that Rani and Caroline were very compatible; they had the same taste in terms of parties. “Let’s get ready. I have another surprise for you,” said Rani, and they ushered me into my bedroom. At the same time, my handsome husband isolated himself in his study. Rani locked the door, then ran a little. She lifted a dress. I cover my mouth with both hands; this dress is one of Dior’s designs for spring this year. Rani smiled brightly and then pulled me to my wall in the closet.

Matilda appeared looking flustered, which was unusual, since nothing ever seemed to fluster her. "Miss Sophia, you have a visitor," she announced. "A Miss Gabrielle Laurent. She says she's from the house of Dior and that it's urgent she speak with you immediately." Sophia stiffened. Gabrielle Laurent was a powerful name in fashion. "Did she say what it's about?" Sophia asked. "She says it's about your Paris show," Mrs. Matilda replied. "And she looks quite distressed." Sophia exchanged glances with her brothers. Gabrielle Laurent was one of the most powerful people in French fashion, the creative director of Dior's haute couture division, known for being ruthlessly particular about design an

"For you. The signed first edition of that neuroscience book you’ve been wanting for a year." Avery opened it. It was the new release, with a golden "To" signature on the title page. She looked at Sophia, her eyes stinging. "How did you even find this?" "A bookstore owner in London knows the author. I pestered him forever. Just tell me you love me!" She pushed the other box forward. "And this is for my darling Dorothea. Portable watercolors. They don't stain clothes." Avery took it, her throat tightening at the rabbit and strawberry designs on the packaging. "She’ll love it."

Liora waited three nights before opening the book again. Her body still ached sweetly from Draven, but she was curious. She wanted something different this time someone intense, teasing, and a little dangerous in a new way. She opened the glowing book and whispered, “I want someone seductive and playful… but still very dominant. Someone who can tease me until I beg and then fuck me senseless.” The book glowed purple this time. Soft shadows moved across the floor, and a tall figure appeared from the darkness between two tall shelves.

It feels like luxury and moonlight. On my bed are three boxes. I open the largest one first. A gasp leaves my throat. Inside is a small Christian Dior bag, the unreleased limited-edition one I’ve been on a waiting list for months to get. Soft leather, miniature size, gold chain strap, and the Dior letters hanging in perfect shiny charms. I grab it, hug it, maybe even whisper "Oh my God" into it. I open the second box. A pair of heels. Same brand. Delicate crystal-covered straps, thin stiletto heel, soft shimmering silver leather. They look painful but beautiful like expensive torture.

Ciro didn't hate her, but he couldn't forgive her, at least not as easily as he would have done before. -I bought you a beautiful Dior dress, color “A medium-cut magenta dress that will fit your figure well. It has an invisible zipper on the back. I imagine it will look great on you. Go up and put it on. I left it on your bed.” Ciro explained, closing the distance between his wife who felt overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze and lowered her head. However, Ciro put his cold fingers on her chin to raise her head again. “And don’t forget to wear our wedding ring.”

In the back of her mind, she was hoping there would be time for her to share some of those hours with Don. Melanie had packed an exquisite black and white Dior gown which accentuated her well-toned curves and created just the right amount of cleavage to be classified as elegant, sensual, and a little bit dangerous. Although she hadn't planned on making a Hollywood style entrance at the banquet, she was now officially on the hunt and wanted to make sure she was well armed.