Chloe Irvin Novels & Stories

She answered. Chantelle, I need you to get ready for the party. "Don't tell me you've forgotten that today's is Damien birthday". Rosemary said. "No ma'ma I can't forget" . Chantelle said. We're expecting visitors in a few hours, and there's a lot to do." Chantelle looks up from the floor, her hands covered in soap suds. "What do you need me to do?" she asks. Her aunty continues, "You need to vacuum the living room, mop the kitchen floor, and set the table for dinner. " I believe you can handle that cause you've been doing it for years now". Rosemary said. I think the work will be much for me, please I'll be needing help. Chantelle said. "Will you shut it". Rosemary said. We've been feeding,

“Expect preliminary in forty eight hours.” Chloe’s mouth curved into a thin smile. This was the start. She finished a script for a friendly TV producer in which she would appear composed, governed, wronged. She would be the injured wife — hurt, dignified, hurt again. But upstairs or underneath, she’d collect ammunition. ***

Now she sat at the head of a long glass table, the gold CL emblem gleaming proudly on the wall behind her. Executives and department heads lined the table, papers and tablets spread out before them. The hum of discussion quieted as Chloe entered. She was dressed sharply, silk blouse, tailored trousers, and a faint sweep of luxury perfume. No one in this room would guess she was entangled with vampires and witches. Here, she was simply Chloe, the founder and creative force of Chloe Luxe. “Good morning, everyone,” she said, sliding into her chair. Her voice carried, calm but commanding. “Let’s get started.”

“This young lady, it’s not your fault you’re ugly, but coming to such an event looking like that and scaring people—that’s your problem. Don’t just stand there, leave quickly!” After speaking, Chloe stepped directly between Esther and Ian, blocking Esther so Ian couldn’t see her scratched-up face. Smiling brightly, Chloe raised her glass to Ian. “Hello, Chairman Yale. I’m Chloe Davenier, current CEO of the Davenier Group—” “Step aside.” Ian’s cold voice sliced through her words. Undeterred, she lifted her glass higher. “Chairman Yale, I toast to your good health and—” “I said, step aside.”

When he fell for Chloe, the game became real and complicated. Name: CHLOE RICHARDSON Age: 20 Nationality: American (born NYC) Profession/Education: Junior at Columbia University, majoring in International History Works part-time at university library (refuses family money) 3.7 GPA because she's genuinely interested in her studies, not performing Physical Description:

Dana POV: Dana Travis Not Dana Witting Chloe Pennington is a plump, middle-aged woman who radiates a no-nonsense air. When we shake hands in the reception area of her firm, there is an instant warmth to her grip that tells me that she is a woman juggling a busy home life with a thriving career, undoubtedly married with children. "I like you already, Dana," Chloe says, her hazel eyes scanning me with approval. "You are exactly right on time. Wait . . . is that Sauvage? Your perfume?"

She stood in front of the camera, elegantly presenting her work. “I’m Carina Morrison, founder of Astraeus… Our debut show will be at the Beverly Hilton. It’s going to be a show that redefines tradition…” My hands were shaking. I fumbled for my phone and dialed Lorenzo. “Lorenzo, turn on the TV!” “What?” “Now! The fashion channel!” A few minutes later, Lorenzo’s shout came through the phone. “Chloe! That’s my Chloe!” Chloe appeared on screen, too. She was in a black power suit, looking like a CEO.

Thanks dad. Chloe’s dress was impossible to ignore, crimson red, low-cut back, her hair pinned up but a few strands loose, framing her face. Brian forced himself to look away, though it took effort. The gym looked deserted, but a massive vampire swung the door open for them. Behind the curtains, a hidden hallway buzzed with chatter. Fighters stood by the doors, some inside, waiting their turn. Chloe moved past them, her eyes locking with Hunter’s. He grinned, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

Chloe is twenty-four, blonde, effortlessly cool, and possesses a terrifying amount of knowledge about everyone’s digital footprint. "Reyes," she sighed, waving her phone like a white flag. "Tell me you're off the clock. I need a mental break and I refuse to take it alone." "I am currently sanitizing vinyl," I said, not looking up. "I'm basically a janitor with a 3.9 GPA. What's up?" "The internet is up. The internet is losing its collective mind, and I have to monitor the analytics." She walked over and hopped onto the edge of table one, swinging her legs. "Have you seen the teaser for the Vogue spread?"

"Y-Your Highness, no. No, there's been a mistake. A terrible mistake!" Cassian’s dark eyebrows pulled together slightly, though his expression remained infinitely tender. "A mistake?" "I'm... I'm Chloe!" she blurted out, her hands gesturing wildly to herself. "I work the breakfast shift at the diner in the valley! I chop vegetables, I bake cobbler, and I wash dishes for Tricia! I don't have noble blood, I don't carry an ancient lineage like Luna Kelsie, and I can't even shift into a majestic wolf without tripping over my own paws! I'm just... I'm just common, sir!"