Claire Ward Novels & Stories

Even Tristan was distracted, his eyes glued to the TV, though I knew his ears were probably tuned into the house, shifting occasionally as the alpha in him kept watch over our territory. “Is it not werking, sister?” Tyla asked. Her little voice was soft, curious, and filled with the kind of worship only a younger sister can give. Claire didn’t stop. She was determined, her fingers working hard at the plastic table. I had told her a dozen times not to carry it around the room but she was far too stubborn to listen. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, looking every bit like a miniature version of a pack leader. “Baby girl, it has to work,” Claire said, her voice dropping into a tone that soun

I open my mouth to scream but pause when I hear the familiar voice; “It’s me, bitch. Cut it out.” My mouth snaps shut as annoyance skitters down my spine. I fold my arms, lift my chin and glare down at her. Dressed in black hoodie and matching dark leggings, Claire looks like a nineteen year old hipster kid. “Claire? That’s a terrible disguise. What the hell do you want?” She takes a step in my direction, her eyes sparking venom; “You’re behind that terrible review stunt, aren’t you? You’re behind everything that’s been happening for the past few weeks.”

I conceded, “Fair enough. But I think you should go first since you have an unfair information advantage.” She smiled, accepting the challenge. “Claire Renwick, thirty-six, investigative journalist specializing in criminal justice issues and financial crimes. I have two dogs—Winston, the chocolate Lab you must have seen on I*******m, and a recent rescue named Pepper who’s still deciding if she likes me. For fun, I hike, read obscure history books, and binge-watch cooking competitions while eating takeout.”

“What do you work in?” “I work at St. Clair. It’s a fashion house,” she told him. “I’ve heard of that,” he replied and squinted at her. “Aren’t you the heiress of it? I’ve seen your face online.” Clara blushed at the attention. “I might be,” she said. “It’s a good idea to not admit to being dirty rich,” Caiden agreed. “You never know who will try to go after your money.” He checked his watch and Clara gulped. She needed to something to keep his attention and to make sure they saw each other again. The demon king had made it sound like all they needed to do was see each other. They had done that and Caiden still hadn’t regained his memories.

I know her favorite flowers are Tulips so I also have them but the plant wasn't available so rose was the safest option. I ring the bell after parking my black rover in front of her door to be clicked by the paparazzi. I dressed extra nice even though I look hot everyday. Claire opens the door and her hair is messy and she has changed into some black leggings and a tank top showing her collarbone. She is not wearing any makeup but she is looking as beautiful as ever. I could look at her all day and never get tired of her. I have dated many girls in past ,had spent "nights" with some of them but I have only ever found two girls beautiful. One ,Rose ,we have some history but it is to be sha

Claire stammered, frightened, as she saw me pulling her uniform to put it on. Claire was my new personal maid, replacing Eloise. We were the same height and had similar body types, and the uniform was as loose on her as it was on most of the other maids. I opened the drawer of the dresser and placed a few more gold coins in her hand. She nodded, still scared. In a matter of seconds, she took off her clothes and handed them to me so I could wear them. "Be careful, Miss Parker. This could be dangerous!" Those were her last words before she saw me leaving the room.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Standing near the sleek black limousine parked in the alley was Lorenzo, my childhood best friend and top lieutenant, alongside a woman wearing a pristine white fur coat and diamonds that literally glowed in the dark. Claire Sterling. My wife. She was leaning against the limo, holding a glass of expensive champagne, a deep, ugly pout on her perfectly sculpted face. Claire was a billionaire's daughter through and through, beautiful, spoiled and entirely useless in a real crisis "Is she as pathetic as she looked in the news?" Claire whined, her high heels clicking loudly against the floor as she stomped over to me. "Jared, this is getting ridicu

So far, no one came forward to hold us accountable. “You got lucky, you bastard,” I shouted over my shoulder as I poured myself another glass of whiskey. “So, until I get Cello Clare here, tell me how we’re doing on the other deal? Clarissa what?” “Clarissa Ward. Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of her, but you can look her up on the internet to see what she looks like.” I didn’t wait for another invitation and opened my laptop. The moment I associated her name with a face, I was simply speechless. She looked so familiar. Those eyes. No, it wasn’t possible. This woman is a high-class journalist, and that was an art enchantment.

The doctor asked. "Shut up and go inside that ward and do your job. You talk too much." He bowed to her and went. Claire turned away from the ward and asked her guys, "Which ward is Cain in?" "The fifth VIP ward, Chairwoman. Why?" Claire didn't wait to tell them why. She moved away, and the guys followed her. She got to the ward and kicked the doors open, and her anger became visible on her face when she saw Cain. He was sitting on the bed, whining about what happened to Floral, his mother.

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!"