Celeste O'connor Parents Novels & Stories

She hurriedly intervened and dragged the kids somewhere else to get them away from him. James clenched his fists tightly. "When did Celeste withdraw? I'm her father. I have the right to know."

The fire. I slammed my fist into the desk. Not again. I couldn’t do this again. Couldn’t trust fate. Couldn’t trust the bond. But even as I stared at her image on the monitor—legs tucked under her, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands—I knew. The moon doesn’t make mistakes. And this girl was mine. Whether I wanted her or not. Link’s Notes – Confidential Background check pending. Celeste says she’s clean. No living parents. Mother disappeared 20 years ago under unusual circumstances.

So Old Madam Armstrong could only continue her conversation, "But you know, our daughter, Celeste doesn't have an easy time." "Her mother left her early. As her grandmother, I feel very sorry for her, always thinking about how to give this child the best of everything." "Her father also always looked out for Celeste. All of this is just because we hope that this child will have a better future, then all our hard work and efforts will not be in vain. What do you think, Old Lady Davis?" Celeste frowned slightly as her long, slender fingers unconsciously tensed up. Her gentle and pure smile disappeared along with Old Madame Armstrong's words, replacing it with a cold expression.

Being young and beautiful, Celeste is the only daughter of the Marcon Family and was raised by Don Andres Marcon and Dona Saffira Marcon in their province. She was known to be an in-demand event stylist and a successful event planner. Everything is fine with her life, but she doesn’t remember anything about her childhood to her adolescence. She always felt that something was always missing in her life –not until she found out the truth when an unknown man came named Allastair and he claimed that she was his.

He let out a bitter laugh. Celeste leaned back against the desk behind her. “That’s not unusual, I understand how you feel,” she said gently. “I feel that way about my parents sometimes,” she admitted. “Especially my mom. She can be… a lot.” Logan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know Diana Russo,” he said. Celeste laughed. “Oh, trust me,” she replied. “I think our mothers might actually be twins separated at birth.” Logan chuckled. “If someone told me that tomorrow, I’d believe them one hundred percent.”

Celeste must have fed Riley with those thoughts as well, just another ploy to separate Riley from her mother. And what’s more? She was sure Ethan approved and must have had a hand in the matter as well. Aurora had once heard him say Riley looked more like Celeste with her dark hair and active character. Celeste was a medical scientist and a ice skating queen. Riley loved ballet as well. Sharp, intelligent and brave, she had always been an outdoorsy girl. Aurora, who always stayed at home, visiting the in-laws or taking care of the house, definitely did not seem like the mother of such a brilliant kid.

"Means both your parents were alive. Together. With the Bishops and De Argents." "That's impossible." Celeste grabbed the tablet. Stared. "My dad disappeared years before my mom died." "Maybe that's what they wanted people to think," Damien said quietly. She looked at him. "What are you saying?" "Maybe our parents weren't enemies. Maybe they were working together." "But why—" "Fake their deaths? Keep us apart?" He ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know. But we're about to find out." Celeste's phone rang. Unknown number.

He had settled into her chair behind the desk, but his gaze looked distant. “Honey,” Aria called softly. “How was the meeting with Christian?” Damian looked up, snapping out of his thoughts. His expression softened the moment his eyes met hers. “I found out some information about Celeste’s mom.” “Really?” Aria sat up straighter. “Yeah,” Damian replied, frowning. “It’s true. She worked for my father.” “Samantha Michael,” Jaxon added. “And her daughter… Celeste Michael Voss.”

Gently, I reached for the wipes on the table and brushed the tear away. “I’m here for you, Celeste,” I said, my voice calm and low. “And I’m sure your parents will be with you tomorrow, watching from above, proud of the woman you’ve become.” She sniffled, her shoulders trembling as she spoke in half-coherent sentences, memories pouring out. Eventually, the exhaustion overtook her, and her words became soft sighs as sleep claimed her. I stayed a while longer, watching her breathing even out, her face finally at peace. From the fragments of her confessions, I understood, her parents were dead, her older brother too. Aria’s father was the only father figure she had left.

- [Celeste Johnson] Celeste Johnson still wore her wedding ring and used her late husband’s last name. Losing her husband had been a devastating blow—not just because she had lost her partner, but also because she’d lost their unborn child. At 35 years old, she was a widow living alone with her elderly cat, which had originally belonged to her husband. She resided in a small apartment, just the right size for a woman and her pet. Neither she nor her late husband came from wealthy families or had a storied background. Her life wouldn’t suddenly change with the discovery of a rich grandparent or long-lost uncle. She was simply Celeste Johnson.