Christiane F Book English Novels & Stories

her way before glancing back at Christie as we waited for her reply. "Oh, I know what she meant, duh." Was Christie's reply this time. I rolled my eyes before barking out, "Christiana!" Christie shuffled into her jeans shorts and buttoned them up before pulling on her black see through crop top over her breast which were covered by a bra and a small black camisole which stopped beside the ribs. "Urg, please don't call me my full name, it sounds so out of class and I am a woman of class, thank you," Christie corrected before turning back towards the closet to arrange whatever it was that she had scattered when digging out the cloths she had on at the moment.

"We saw each other a few times before something… happened." "Fascinating." She smiled, though it never reached her eyes. "And you sell wedding dresses, don't you? An adorable coincidence, given the circumstances." "I don't believe in coincidences," Christian finally spoke, his voice so cold I barely recognized it. "I believe in fate." Francesca let out a light laugh, almost musical. "Fate?" She tilted her head, watching him with curiosity. "You? The man who planned every single minute of his life? How interesting."

Mishka asked, sauntering in his direction. “I just came to pick you up,” Christian replied, and his focus shifted to the woman standing next to Mishka. “This is Amelia, co-editor of Scarlet’s book.” Mishka introduced, “and this is my husband, Christian.” “Nice meeting you, sir,” Amelia shook hands with Christian, smiling sheepishly while Mishka glared at her not to open her mouth. Christian smiled. “Glad to meet you.” He smiled and turned to Mishka, “Let’s go,” He said and opened the door of the passenger seat for Mishka, and she sat inside, waving at Amelia.

Maria didn’t speak immediately. That somehow made things worse. Finally— “You seem distracted lately,” she said softly. Christiana forced a faint smile. “I’ve been tired.” Maria glanced at her briefly. “Tiredness changes behavior.” A pause. “But fear changes it even more.” Christiana’s pulse quickened. “What do you mean?” Maria stopped walking. Then slowly turned toward her. “I mean secrets have a way of revealing themselves through people.” Silence. Christiana forced herself not to react. Not even slightly.

“It’s just, finding out your middle name is Ivano at the… at the ceremony tells me how little I know about you.” The air in the room drops as Christian’s body goes rigid against mine, his breathing while controlled, has kind of lost its perfect rhythm, and his arms falter just a little bit. Barely recognizable even, but I feel it. “I’m an open book, Princess,” he says, but I think he can also feel it in him that he’s lying. I scoff, shaking my head. “And I’m the queen of England.” His body relaxes, pressing a hot kiss where his jaw had been mere seconds ago. It sends a shiver down my spine, making me shift deeper into his embrace. Though the movement reminds my body that I’m sore in places I

She yelled as Christian was about to leave, "Christian! Are you going to look for her? Have you forgotten? You have already signed the divorce papers!" Christian stopped in his tracks and turned around. His gaze was as sharp as a knife. "Even then, I wouldn't marry you!" Then, he left without looking back. At the end of the corridor, his assistant was waiting for him. "Don Fuzio, there were no records of Donna Fuzio entering Swisserland borders. It's like she has vanished." Christian stood in silence on the spot for a long time. In the end, he merely said, "Continue looking for her."

She paced around the island counting, listening to the low susurrus of voices in the hall his voice, stable and measured and. Christiana's, flailing against the bank of books and the dim bulbs and the bile rising unnamely through her throat and she told herself, not very convincingly, that it was right to go, she had to go, to trust him, and sometimes trusting must entail retreat from rooms where you want to remain. Twenty three minutes away Christiana departed. He entered the kitchen. He stood on the other side of the island, looking over at her. His face was that of a man who has completed a hard task and understands that another hard task awaits him.

"Hot!" Christiana interfered profoundly which halted me from talking. I faced Christiana I just can't get enough from her, the look visualising on her surprises me. I mean Christi was obviously looking at them as if she's seen a semi god. "Actually, I was going to say they look so dumb, their outfits says it all." My words got her attention quickly. "Holy-Moly, did you just call them dumb? The F-boys dumb? am sorry to ask do you have eyesight problems?"

“You were with Mr Kimura yesterday. Where is he? Is he here?” “He was.” she replied with a smile. “Meanwhile, I should introduce myself properly to you since it's the first time we are talking. My name is Claudia Jones, and I'm Mr Kimura's personal assistant.” “I am sure you know me already.” he replied, looking past her as if searching for someone. “Like I said, he was here. So you can stop searching for him.” she said. “However, he says red looks good on your wife. And he's invited you both for dinner at his place tomorrow night. Here,”

A billboard above flashed an ad for some over-the-top superhero film, the kind with too many explosions and not enough plot. Christian reached over and opened my door without a word, his brows raised slightly like he was daring me to delay. I rolled my eyes, slid the book off my lap, and stepped out, the air brushing cool against my face. I turned to Christian. “This place looks perfect.” He tapped the dashboard with a grin. “I knew you’d like it. Free Wi-Fi, decent espresso, and,most importantly, no moon influenced werewolves chasing us down the block.” "You really gonna bring that inside?" Christian asked, pointing at the book I refused to leave behind. His tone was light, teasing. "You're