Claire Booth Novels & Stories

“Legal advisor to the Halest family.” Not wanting to be rude, Claire shook hands with the man. “Claire Berkeley.” Before she turned to face Ajax. “Can anyone tell me what’s going on?” She was so confused and anxious, there was no other way to say it. A terrible feeling was boiling in the pit of her stomach and no matter how much she tried, goosebumps stayed pretty prominent on her arms and legs.

The company had the best resources and the best people, including PR general manager, Claire Eastly. Claire was a top-notch scorer in both PR and crisis management. There was once an ill-mannered celebrity who was renowned for her discourtesy and always bragged about her money. While she was a household name for her arrogance within the circle, Claire managed to spin up her celebrity image as ‘The Savage Queen’, garnering favor amongst the public.

"Wouldn't it be better to stay behind closed doors?" "What? That's ridiculous." Claire answered, her expression perfectly normal as if nothing had happened. "So I should start hiding all because I was threatened? That's just silly." Claire struggled to get up from where she was sitting and made her way to a table close by where she picked up her phone. Her light blue gown with gemstone design, flowing freely as she walked by which failed to conceal her pregnancy. Though she was a full nine-month-old pregnant lady, her beauty never faltered one bit.

I was just a man waiting for his partner. "This time it's right," Noah said. "Yeah." The music started. Not a march. Just a acoustic guitar played by one of our friends. Claire walked out. She wasn't wearing a princess gown. She was wearing a slip dress with a lace overlay, holding a bouquet of wildflowers she had picked herself. She walked toward me. She was smiling. Not for the cameras—there were none. For me. "Hi," she said when she reached me. "Hi," I said.

Some reporters who were attending the gala like friends, pulled out their phones and instantly started capturing every single thing. While Carlos and his father quickly moved to confront him, a sharp yell echoed in the hall, "What the fuck is wrong with these people?" It was Claire. Standing in the middle of the room, dressed in a baby pink ball gown as if she were the princess of innocence. "Here's the drama," Valentina giggled. "Why do people keep coming in the way of my happiness?" Claire yelled, "Throw money. Do whatever it takes. But I want to marry Steven only!"

I could picture her standing in the formal living room of the Hale house, choosing her words carefully. “The Whitmore family. Their daughter Claire has just returned from London. She’s been working with an art foundation. Very bright. Very lovely. I thought it would be nice if the two of you met properly.” Of course. I opened my eyes and stared at Killian’s painting while she continued speaking. Soft rain. Two figures who would never turn around. The same stubborn line of the shoulder I would recognize anywhere. I didn’t want to go.

the weighing of trust, of readiness, of whether this particular truth would help or harm. Then she pulled out the stool across from Eve and sat down. "Her name was Claire," Nonna said. "Claire Ashworth, before she married Antonio Valentino. American girl. Beautiful....not in the way this world expects its women to be beautiful, not polished or calculated, but genuinely, quietly beautiful. The kind of woman who lit up a room without trying." Eve stayed very still, not wanting to break whatever had opened.

"Tell Thomas Blackwood I quit. Tell him to find someone else to destroy Sophia Dante, because I won't do it anymore." "You'll be sued for breach of contract—" one lawyer started. "Then I'll be sued." Claire picked up her purse. "But I won't be part of this anymore." She walked to the door, paused, and looked back at Sophia one more time. "For what it's worth, I really do think you're incredible. Your fashion show, the way you handled the bombing, everything you've built—that's real talent. Real strength. I'm sorry I tried to take it from you."

The child Benjamin claimed didn’t exist. Stephanie carried her out of the car, holding her firmly against her hip. Claire was dressed in a pale yellow dress with little white shoes, and sunflower-shaped shades. She was too young to know she was at the center of a legal battlefield. But that also meant she wasn't fully aware of what was going on so she was waving at everyone as we made our way up. She thought this was all just some fun parade.

She was a short-haired woman, not much taller than Nicholas or Noel, so Claire needed to look up to talk to the two policemen. "Can we know your identity?" "My name is Claire, Claire Pennington. I'm not married, I'm thirty years old." Claire pointed at the waterfall. "People told me to come to this tourist spot, because they said I would get a partner if I threw a lucky coin into the waterfall!" Claire's voice trembled, she was still in shock after several hours of seeing the bodies there. Her eyes glazed over as she continued, "But when I threw my second coin, I saw someone's hand. I called the tour guard, and... we found a body!"