Charlotte Opening Novels & Stories

"I heard you running. What are you doing?" Charlotte froze. "I’m... I’m just changing my clothes, Valentina! Go away!" "Open the door, Charlotte. I want to talk to you about the seating chart for the gala." "In a minute!" Charlotte shouted. She shoved the paper deep into a box of old shoes. She checked her face in the mirror to make sure she wasn't crying. She opened the door. Valentina was standing there, her eyes narrow. She looked past Charlotte into the room. "Why was the door locked?"

Charlotte replied as she walked out of the bathroom with a towel tied around her chest. Smith opened the luggage and he found out she got him some clothes and shoes too. He looked at the sizes and they were his exact size. How did she get to know my size? He thought. He raised his head and saw Charlotte struggling to dry her hair with a towel. He remembered he noticed a hair dryer when he opened the wardrobe. He reach out for the hair dryer and handed it over to her as he plugged the cable into the socket.

The call ended and Charlotte waited in front of the elevator which was moving up from downstairs. "Why the f**k is this the only elevator in the hallway" she cursed, it was a few minutes after nine already and she was still here. *Ding* the elevator made a sound as it finally opened. Charlotte was about to stride in, only to abruptly halt on her step when she saw the familiar face of the person that walked out. A frown made its way to her face. "What are you doing here?"

Luna Charlotte Third-Person POV... Charlotte loved their baby even while it was growing inside her. But she wanted to give birth so badly! The baby kicked her ribs until they ached, and the baby only stopped when Damon whispered to it. So far, her pregnancy has been relatively easy. Doctor Freddie told her the due date is March. She glanced at the calendar at saw that it was only fourteen February, Valentine's Day. She loved special days, especially this one. She was going to do something special for Damon. He was her savior and lover, even though he had initially hurt her.

We were discussing the branching of our offices in Atlanta, and I was planning to surprise Charlotte with the news as soon as the board agreed. I took my omelet with a glass of orange juice as I scrolled through the news on Twitter about the fall of the Red Queen. Kent was trending on Twitter after Charlotte, and her feed was full of funny gifs that captured the shock on her face during Charlotte’s fight back. I cackled at the memes that retold the story which was a great way to start my day on a high. “Jacque,” I addressed Jacque who was standing a few feet away from me, “Kindly set Charlotte’s breakfast on a tray for me. I would like to serve her in her room.”

"Why should I waste my breath explaining anything to you, a kept man who depends on women for your living?" I scowled as I clamped my hand tightly around her wrist. "You're not going anywhere until you explain everything." Charlotte yanked her arm away, unlocked her phone, and shoved the screen inches from my face. "Take a good look. Only an elite man like him deserves to be my husband. You don't even come close." I looked at the screen and noticed that it was Steven Zimmerman, Charlotte's assistant, dressed immaculately in a suit. He had been dispatched to Barovia a month prior for crucial business negotiations. He was slated to return this very day.

I slumped, gulping back the saliva threatening to spill out of my mouth. “Well, how about we go on a vacation?” “A vacation? Angel, I don’t have much money on me, and you know how well I’m trying to save up.” “Well, my darling sister, it’s completely free, Charlotte. I got a free raffle, and I won four tickets to the London Festival. All-expense-paid trip, with free rooms, free food, and free towels.” “I’ve been keeping it a secret till I saw who I was going to go with — and this is the perfect timing.”

Emma: Don’t work all night. Charlotte smiled. Charlotte: No promises. She slipped the phone into her clutch and headed for the door. ⸻ The ballroom glittered beneath crystal chandeliers. Soft music drifted through the room as business leaders, philanthropists, and community organizers mingled over cocktails. Charlotte accepted a glass of champagne from a passing server. She’d barely taken two steps when a familiar voice spoke behind her. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.” She turned. Darrien. Black tuxedo.

In fact, the interior alone cost more than two luxury penthouses in this upscale neighborhood. I ignored her self-absorbed rambling, put my phone on silent, and went to sleep. … Early the next morning, I went downstairs on time and headed toward my reserved parking space. As soon as I pulled open the car door, a figure suddenly darted out from the side and grabbed the passenger door. It was Charlotte; she was wearing an incredibly over-the-top, sequined slip dress and a pair of four-inch heels. Worst of all, she was holding a steaming bowl of pungent chitlin stew.

“You didn't do it because you're a philanthropist and you know it. I'm not going out to dinner with you. “Of course you will. You don't want me to tell everyone that Miss McKeena has no say, do you? Charlotte frowned. That would be bad, not just for her image, but for the Foundation's. And she was pretty sure her new partner wouldn't like it one bit if she took the step of, say, send Marco to hell and not date him. “I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven at your apartment. I'll take you to a place you'll never forget. At exactly seven o'clock at night, the phone rang in Charlotte's apartment. Was it from reception, asking if they could let Marco Villa-Lobos up? Charlotte was ready so she said no