Caraval Stephanie Garber Novels & Stories

3rd Person POV As Stephanie and Emile made it to the bottom of the steps, one of the fellow fashion designers who attended the baby shower approached Stephanie with a beaming smile showing off her perfect teeth. “Stephanie, it’s time for presents!” She grabbed hold of Stephanie’s arm and pulled her away from Emile toward the large, plush chair that looked like a throne for a queen. “Sit, sit,” she insisted as she gently encouraged her down onto the seat. The young woman turned and grabbed something nearby, coming back to put a tiara on Stephanie’s head.

Then, Carmilla arrived. Carmilla stepped out of the elevator and onto the red-carpeted stairs. She wore a midnight-blue gown that sparkled like stars, its fabric hugging her frame gracefully, with a daring open back and a high slit that revealed her toned legs as she walked. Her hair was swept into an elegant updo, allowing her diamond-drop earrings to catch the light with every step. Her makeup was delicate yet defining, eyes rimmed with soft gold, lips a warm nude blush. Harrison’s eyes lit up. He stepped forward, offering his arm with quiet dignity. Carmilla met him halfway and gently slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

she jokingly asked. Stephanie poked her head out of the doorway. She was the complete opposite of Claire: tall, slender, golden skin, long raven black hair, and brown eyes. Your typical beauty queen. Even though Steph was almost 70 years old, the vampire genes made her appear to be about 20. She kept herself in great physical condition and the boys around town noticed. Hell, the men around town noticed. And she loved the attention. “I need something for my date tonight. Brad asked me to meet him at his place again. Bonfire and, of course, some lovin’ time. Soooooo, I need some of your boy clothes. Mine are too nice to be covered in smoke and dirt,” Steph replied.

Sweet, perfect Rosealba. Stephanie’s smile soured. A stain. A parasite. A soft thing pretending to be strong. “I’ll peel the sweetness from your skin,” Stephanie whispered, setting the glass down. Her fingers flexed against the wood, nails digging slightly. “Piece by piece. Until Alactor Merikh forgets your name. Until your ghost stops haunting his eyes. Until he is completely mine.” She turned from the mirror, the silk of her robe brushing against her ankles like a shadow that moved with her.

Sophia Cole adjusted the strap of her silk gown as the chauffeured Rolls-Royce glided through the wrought-iron gates of the family estate in Paris. Snow-dusted pines framed the sprawling mansion like a winter postcard, but the knot in her stomach had nothing to do with the cold.

And then, the man Catherine had cheated with was Robert—Aunt Stephanie’s hidden son, and the one standing before me, stealing Carlos’ identity. Fear gripped me, my head spun as I tried to digest the magnitude of what I was hearing. My eyes darted from one face to the next—Aunt Stephanie, Robert, and Catherine—all of them standing there with a smile on their faces, waiting for me to break. Just when I thought everything was over, Aunt Stephanie said with amusement: “Now, tell me Carla. Are you ready for the final blow?”

That was why she had Tyler take the initiative to look for Stephanie instead. But Stephanie, that ungrateful bitch, refused to get back together with Tyler no matter what. This time, she even caused Kiara to suffer from a miscarriage. "She's the culprit behind my suffering, but Ty doesn't care about that at all. In fact, he does all he can just to win her back!" Kiara smiled bitterly. "Then again, what else can I do? After all, she's the Ford heiress…" "What did you just say?" Martha looked stunned. "Stephanie? The Ford heiress? Are you talking about the Fords, one of the Four Powerhouses of Jetterpolis?"

Narrators POV; Esther arrives at an hotel and she walks into a darker coner of the parking lot as she carefully examines the expensive cars of different sizes, colors and brands parked there. She looks around to be sure shes not being watched and then she pulls off the baggy dress. Only to reveal an orange crop top which is strapped tightly against her bust, but reveals no part of it. It only makes it's presence well known and helps to outline the perfect shape of her upper body.

Until the sound of footsteps distracts me, and I shift my eyes to see Cara walking away from us. She walks to some girls a few feet away and finally does something I haven’t seen her do since we met. She smiles and opens her mouth. "She’s so strange," I mumble under my breath, and James seems to catch it. "Uh?" I look back at him, but before I can speak, Andrea arrives with two cups in hand. "Here you go." She smiles as she gives one to James. "Thank you." "So my friends are over there, and they want to meet you. Want to come with me so I can introduce you?" She asks with hopeful eyes, and I wrap a hand around my arm, rocking on my heels as I drop my gaze to the sand.

Carter expressed with a genuine grace. Stephie paused, and she emptied the last drops of water in her cup. Carter watched her carefully. The young girl stared at the tabletop, wringing her fingers together beneath the table. All this was simply too good to be true, and if there's one thing Stephie learned was that no favor was truly ever a "favor". There was always a catch. "I'm sorry, you look like a nice guy, or at least this charade you're putting on is pretty convincing, but not for me." Stephie determined.