Clare At 16 Novels & Stories

VERSION: THIRTEEN-A. BEGINNING RECORD. Clara didn’t hear it. She just kept walking, into the dawn her reflection no longer lagging behind.

"What are you talking about?" "The Sire has no heir," Dalia said, pulling a small, amber glass vial from her apron pocket and pressing it into Aria’s palm. "Draven Ashford was castrated by the enforcers in the Hollow Pit—the old line is broken. If you carry Cassius’s blood, the captains will never allow him to cast you aside. Stop drinking the herbal contraceptive tea he sends to your room. Take this instead. It will clear your system within three days, and you'll have his ring on your finger before the winter is out."

‘Plus, remember you agreed to it earlier when I told you I was going to drop you off? ‘Soooo, that’s what you meant. You were trying to be sneaky. But kidding aside, I feel the same,’ Clara said with a lump in her throat. ‘I’m going to miss you.’ -=- This next chapter is R18. If you are not over 18, please skip this chapter and proceed to Chapter 74. -=-

She thought: this is not mine alone. "The ceremony," she said. "When is it?" "June", Clara said. "In London. A small room. Forty people. Not a production." "I'll be there," she said. "I know," Clara said. "I've already booked your train."

Who wouldn’t? Adrian: Then come tonight. It’s just dinner. Smart conversation. Like I said before Clara: I’m married. Adrian: To a man who treats you like a ghost. I’m offering you attention, partnership. Maybe even power. Clara: That’s a dangerous offer. Adrian: So is ignoring your own worth. Clara: What time again? Adrian: 8pm. Wear something red. You look like a queen in red. She smirked, saving the address.

“I love dangerous things.” Adrain laughed. “I don’t have time for games, Clara.” Clara’s heart dropped a little. Before she could even feel disappointed he added, “But, I can give you ten minutes. Clara was in shock completely, and her eyes widened. “Really?” “Yes.” Her breathing became faster. “Tomorrow night,” Adrain continued. “Eight o’clock.” Clara’s face brightened. “Where?” “I’ll send the address shortly.” Clara’s heart started racing.

His grip was too tight, crushing my fingers. “Good,” he said, a grim smile touching his lips. “The car is downstairs. We talk on the way. We have to be perfect.” He pulled me toward the door. As I grabbed my jacket, my eyes fell on my laptop, still open to the news. A new alert had popped up. SOURCES: FINCH HEIR CLARA TO ADDRESS MEDIA AT 4 PM. It was 2:30. Daniel was pulling me into a war, and he was making me his soldier. We weren’t just telling a story. We were launching a counter-attack. Clara would speak at four. We would speak at three-thirty.

Instead, she'd put a happy face sticker on it beneath the golden sun and cry herself to sleep under the silvery moon. When Clara spoke again, her eyes were still trained on the water but they bore such a faraway look Xaver doubted she was actually looking at the pool, "You are going to end this nonsense and, with absolute excitement, recite your vows to Crystal on the sixteenth of August. Don't make me repeat myself". "You don't even like Crystal so why are you doing this? Won't you atleast speak to Sreya before you rule her out?" "I don't need to speak to her"

The company was preparing to host a major client from Qamaria. So, I pulled three straight all-nighters to put together a flawless reception plan. Unfortunately, I made a critical mistake in the middle of all that work. I completely forgot about the Qamarians' restrictions regarding the consumption of pork. By the time I realized my blunder, the menu featuring roast suckling pig had already been submitted to the catering department and could no longer be recalled. I slumped at my desk, my back drenched in cold sweat. If the client took offense, not only would the $300 million contract fall through, but I'd likely also be blacklisted by the entire industry. Just as I despaired and opened

he said, giving her a gentle peck before striding in the direction his father had left in. Placing the used dishes on the large marble kitchen counter, Isobel glanced at Annie, who was busy scraping the scraps of food at the garbage disposal. “Annie, can I ask a question?” “Of course, dear.” “What’s a claiming mark?” Annie glanced at her, her eyes wide with shock. “Didn’t my son explain?” “No. I guess we didn’t get that far in the explanation. We kinda got stuck in the whole, he’s a wolf shifter revelation.”