Camila Cabello Ass Novels & Stories

Staff rushed around, adjusting lights, setting up cameras, preparing for what they already knew would be the biggest interview of the year. One of the stylists, Lana, hurried toward her, holding a garment bag. “Miss Ramirez, the producers requested a softer look, something to—” “I’ll wear what I want,” Camila snapped, barely sparing her a glance. Lana flinched but nodded quickly, stepping back. Camila’s gaze flicked to the cup of coffee in Lana’s hand. “Is that for me?” Lana shook her head. “No, ma’am, it’s mine—”

Camille stood on stage as someone adjusted the mic for her. "You are all startled, right? I know, I'll be startled too." She cleared her throat. "My name is Camila Mendoza. The only daughter of Fernando and Catalina Mendoza." Everyone gasped. I should be gasping too, but being a bastard made me know that piece of information sooner than everyone else when Eduardo and I had a blowing show after fucking Claudia.

He cannot move his bare fingers. [Hello hot streamer] [Hello, please notice me] [What is your information about Bussage International School?] Sam blinks twice as his hands are typing right now. [Hello, how may I help you?] His introvert side is now kicking in as the CEO is observing him. He is amazed by how the viewers of him are now growing. Cameron sips some coffee on his mug and watching his streamer on an anonymous account. He is typing his message. [Please tell us about yourself.]

She seated herself next to Thalia, greeting them all politely, while Gaby looked amazed. "You must be kidding me," Gaby smirked, approaching the lady who was giving her an explicit stare. "She can't be." "Oh yes, she can," Thalia said with excitement. "Is this real, Mother?" inquired Camilo, locked into the resemblance. "Yeah. She looks exactly like Gaby. Brian here has been helping me turn her into the best version of you. Apparently, I think she is ready." "Why is she here? Why?" Gaby inquired with precise ignorance.

Camilla looked like an extra from one of those teen dystopian movies. Half her hair had fallen loose from the ponytail that once held it. The once rich auburn color now looked dull and faded. The clothes she wore were wrinkled and disheveled, despite her attempts to smooth them out when she noticed Zephyra looking at them. Her eyes, however, shone with strength and determination. Zephyra hoped she wasn’t going to use it to yell at her some more.

She has a broad smile on her face as she welcomes us. "Good afternoon, I am Camila the senior designer and I am here to help you find that perfect dress you are looking for." She says, grinning. It looks like she practiced that before we came. I put on a fake smile and try to ignore Richie’s hand that was trailing behind my back. "I have heard so many amazing things about you two, I have watched engagement videos and I have to say, you will make the perfect couple." She says looking at Richie and me.

Then the Mc hushed the crowd. "and now, our last item for the night. A beautiful pure proud heiress up for sale to the highest bidder. Gentlemen, I present to you, Camilla De Luca." She was brought on stage and I was shocked at her beauty. Now, I had seen a lot of beauties in my life, but Camilla had a different type of beauty. She looked both delicate and fierce. Her long red hair framed a beautiful face from which vibrant green eyes shone. Her body was perfect, not too slim and not too thick. She was perfect and she knew it from the arrogant look on her face.

And the color of my skin never hides when I blush so it's always hard. "What's your name?" Now he stood right beside me leaning on the basin and looking down at me. Okay, how the hell was he this tall? I looked like a minor in front of him. This was so unfair. And not to forget his deep baritone voice. It was so smooth just like butter. Ew Arabella really? "Arabella" I replied. He hummed before folding his hands and damn I almost swooned. I accidentally glanced at the tattoo on the back of his left shoulder. It had wings and it between were two initials.

I barked. Camila is a hot girl, 5’8, taller than most girls. She has chocolate-brown hair, pretty hazel eyes, and long, sexy legs. However, her ugly attitude and the way she takes claim over me when other girls get close is getting old. I can’t stand that sh*t. She’s not Natalie, and I won’t have her messing up my plans of getting close to her this year.

She kept her head down, trying to ignore the unmistakable sounds that had ceased inside. She had worked with Camila long enough to be used to it, but it never ceased to be embarrassing. To the world, Camila Rodrigues was the “Pure and Innocent Goddess.” But the assistant knew the truth: Camila was insatiable and manipulative. If fans could hear the lewd moans of their “immaculate virgin,” the internet would crash. Half an hour passed—an unforgivable delay on a professional set—before the door finally opened. Camila emerged, walking with calculated slowness.