Celeste Dubois Novels & Stories

Instead of allowing them to get under my skin, I stared at the fool wearing my dress with eyes devoid of emotion, imagining how pleasant wringing her neck would be. She twirled around. “I am Celeste, one of the most powerful and influential women in the history of werewolves. I have conquered many packs alongside my ex-fiancé, Thorne Frost. Life was really pleasant for me until luck ran out my side, but now everyone thinks that I am dead, and I am stuck in the basement, awaiting the day that Alpha Nigel would have me killed” My fingers curled into fists and if I ever escaped this place, I would come for this witch first. Hunt her down and wipe out her family for this disrespect.

Sauntering across the dimly lit room, I lower myself onto the plush velvet sofa, with my eyes fixed on the grand portrait of me and Leo on our wedding day that looms on the wall before me. “Did you find her?” I finally ask after a few heartbeats. “I have, and I’m not sure what it is that you want me to do, Zee.” “I want you to tell me what you know about her since you have been there,” I reply through gritted teeth, feeling my blood simmering within my veins. “Celeste lives a lavish lifestyle as of three weeks ago. Men come and go from her penthouse, and she is always out until the early hours of the morning, returning drunk and high on the latest drug she has been offered from the club mana

They can't dislike each other if I'm not wrong. +++ "There will never come the day when I'll be as blithesome as these two fine ladies. Especially for this reckless activity. Celeste is following in her footsteps and has chosen high-waisted multicolored palazzo pants with a black crop top. There's a black afro wig sitting on her head too, hiding her own shiny hair. I'm wearing a similar wig which goes well with my leopard-printed suit. "Isn't this a bit extreme?" I ask, buttoning my awful shirt.

she said with a serious look on her face. Celestina is a black witch who has been unconscious for decades, she has dark hair and her eyes pitch black like the night sky without the moon or stars, her legs long it can make any man trip. Her full bosom which is eye catching, her lips are full heart which is plum and pinkish. “I'll be glad to help you with that best friend” she smiled. " Am glad to hear that and welcome to seeing the light again, bestie.” " I take it that you've tried, but you couldn't” she asked to receive a nod from Bathsheba.

I introduced Celeste not as an accessory, not as a curiosity, but as herself. “Celeste Sinclair. CEO of Rosemary Atelier. Chairman of the International Jewelry Association.” Every time, her posture remained elegant, grounded. She didn’t shrink from the titles. She didn’t soften them for anyone’s comfort. I watched people reassess in real time. Watched respect recalibrate. At one point, she leaned in and murmured, “You realize half the room is redoing their mental math.” I smiled. “Let them.” We laughed easily, a sound that felt earned.

“Are you hungry? Tell me you’re hungry.” I glance at the time on a digital clock mounted on the wall. “I am quite swamped today, mother.” “If he isn’t hungry, I am.” Celeste descends the stairs, clad in a spandex leopard skin jumpsuit that clings to her like second skin. She looks like she has put so much effort into her looks. Nails perfectly manicured, long like claws, skin smooth and devoid of any hair, hair coiffed to fall perfectly down her back. She zones in on me, her lips curved up in a small smile.

That I could be brilliant again. I had sacrificed so much for Damien. And when it all came crashing down, there was nothing left of me but ashes. But ashes could be reborn. I wasn’t going to walk into that ballroom as Damien Vaughn’s ex-wife. I wasn’t going to be the scandalous woman in tabloid headlines or the poor soul people pitied. I was walking in as Celeste Monroe. Designer. Creator. Survivor. And tonight, I wasn’t hiding behind my work—I was wearing it. My very own vision and design. I was the model, the brand. And I was going to make a statement.

Leila ordered. "Yes, Miss Leila." "Dr. Aster, do you want some coffee?" "No, thank you. I already had one earlier. You may go back to your table. I'll be fine here." After a few minutes Celeste arrived. Her slim and perfect body is hugged by a body configuring, silk, white dress with a silk gray blazer on top. Her scary and domineering aura is present. Clive looked puzzled as to who is this woman in front of him right now.

Celeste gave a beautiful smile at Isuzu, which flustered her a little then and left. Isuzu closed the door, and as she looked at Iowa, she was already fast asleep. She approached the large window and looked at the large pond. She saw her reflection behind the window and placed the palm of her hand on it. 'I wonder what the general tell me.' she wondered as Iowa slept well. Celeste walked to one of the main offices of the building escorted by no one. As she got to the door, she knocked and opened it afterwards. There, the person showed, and a team of scientists watched the captured serviteur lying on a surgery table. The general looked behind her to see Celeste, "Ah, you have to see this, com

This man in the black robe sneered in the sky, "The information Ignatius obtained was indeed accurate. This Supreme Master has indeed chosen today to break through. Hehe! Today, you will meet your demise!" After saying that, the man was about to fly down but was suddenly stopped by another person who appeared beside him. This was a well-proportioned girl with a delicate face. The man was surprised at the girl's appearance. He asked, "Celeste Fitzgerald? What are you doing here?" Celeste looked at the man with a cold expression and said, "Umbrex, are you planning to attack the Supreme Master?" Umbrex snorted. "What does it have to do with you?"