Claire Booth 소설 & 이야기

Doing a photoshoot for the well-known Exclusive magazine across the nation. "I made sure that this girl is indeed Fathia Bernessa Claire. And I confess, it was a huge mistake for me to fake all the death documents for Fathia because this girl's life is in danger." Clara closes her eyes momentarily. She doesn't want to utter the name she despises the most, but it's a necessity now. Especially since what she feared has truly come to pass in her eyes.

Grief, carefully locked behind expensive restraint. “Clara worked as a patient advocate after the trial,” Evelyn continued. “She helped women who had participated in medical studies and later realized they had never been properly informed of the risks. She was young, intelligent and far more courageous than anyone gave her credit for. Your father found her because he was investigating irregular payments made to participants in the Phoenix trial.” “My father,” I said slowly. “Yes.” The room seemed to tilt a little. I pressed my palm flat against the table, grounding myself.

The door opened with a quiet latch click, and Claire stepped inside, shaking out her damp umbrella before setting it by the umbrella stand. "You look like a woman who just acquired three thousand square meters of prime downtown real estate," Claire said, leaning against the doorframe with a slight smile. "I feel like a woman who just took her life back into her own hands," I replied, snapping the brass latches of my briefcase shut. Claire walked over, pulling a thin tablet out of her trench coat pocket and sliding it onto the table in front of me. "Thought you might want to see the latest legal bulletins before we leave for the evening."

I practically zone out as Edward continues on with his position against us, knowing it doesn’t matter anyway. “We have a witness.” Edward says, pulling my attention back. Just then the side entrance door swings open and Claire walks in. Her red hair is pulled into a neat bun on the crown of her head, her back skirt is long and fitted, and her heels clack against the tile as she takes a seat next tot the judges stand. She sits with her shoulders straight and her back tall. Everything about her is screaming class and professionalism. She even added some color to her cheeks which illuminates rather than contrasts her milky white skin.

Claire entered the room where all the rookie models are, stomping her feet in annoyance. She saw how Heidi snickered and laughed at her, it was clear that what she’s wearing is nothing but cheap clothes. Her pride was hurt with that, and even her fists remained clenched. Heidi might have tried her contempt, however, it did not escape Claire’s keen eyes. ‘Just wait, when I become the wife of Azrael, you won’t be looking down on me anymore, I can end you and your company’ she thought while her lips were pressed tightly.

She wore a dove-gray suit that screamed Parisian elegance and an expression that suggested she'd just detected something unpleasant on her designer heels. "Miss Andrews." It wasn't a question. Her eyes—sharp and assessing—swept over my simple cotton dress and secondhand shoes with the efficiency of a scanner detecting defects. "I'm Claire Beaumont, Mr. Hart's event coordinator. We have much to accomplish and very little time." "Nice to meet you," I said, extending my hand. She looked at it for a beat too long before offering a brief, cold handshake. "Indeed. This way, please."

Now, Clara stood before him like a ghost, reappearing in his life when everything else felt like a whirlwind. Clara Hemp was a girl who always occupied the limelight. In college, she embodied grace and charm in one—the perfect blend of beauty, brains, and ambition. That radiant smile and confident stride turned heads wherever she went. She was hardly a student; she was an event. As a candidate for Miss California 2021, Clara became an overnight phenomenon at their campus. She was a queen in every sense; faculty and students alike adored her. Her name was one to be brought up time and again, either because of academic exploits, obvious beauty, or the manner of carrying oneself with grace.

said Carol and grabbed Claire from her arm to pull her forward . " He he he he !.........Claire.......how about you do a little performance for us ? " said Chloe with a devilish smirk . " Performance ? " said Edward surprised . " This girl is known for being a computer . She often takes part in competitions with money prizes . Knowing your obsession with Puff collectibles , I am sure the two of you are here to grab the first prize . As always , Claire will come to your attendance Carol . " said Chloe . " Chloe , Claire is my friend . " said Chloe, and Claire stopped her from going to Chloe .

Some of it was tasteful, but a lot of it just seemed like they were flaunting their wealth needlessly. Claire and I sat in the corner of the room, away from most of the other tables, uninterested in speaking to most of the others in the room. Claire and I were so underdressed for the event that we looked like we didn’t belong, and that was fine for us. We weren’t here to make friends. We had each other, and that was enough. Claire was the daughter of the Full Moon Pack’s Secretary of State. She was important enough that it would never matter what she wore. She was also as beautiful as her mother, with a kind and sincere heart that drew people to her. She was popular at school because of that

The prescription would cost at least forty. Got it. How was the calc test? Aced it! MIT here I come! Claire smiled despite her exhaustion. Clara was going to MIT. No matter what it took. That night, lying in the bed she shared with Clara, Claire pulled out Damian Cole's business card. She'd looked him up during break. Thirty-two. Self-made billionaire. Photos showed him at galas with beautiful women, always perfect, always untouchable. And she'd dumped coffee on him. Clara peered over her shoulder. "Who's that?"