Cornrows Women Novels & Stories

‘And of course, act as if you are a maid. Cordelia briefly faked a smile. ‘Of course.’ As her uncle walked away, she muttered. ‘It won’t make a change for me.’ Taking her new outfit back into her room, Cordelia stood before the mirror. Her black hair flowed in waves down to her waist. Her lips were, as her uncle said, thick and full, and her breasts even more so. With a sigh, she took care to lace her corset firmly, hoping to tame her figure. This served only to increase the contrast between her waist and her breasts. She pinned her thick hair up next, and slipped on black stockings.

There was nothing else he could do but to remain silent and indifferent to those people. “Why are you silent? If you want to survive, then hand over your bag!” one of the men wearing earrings threatened. Their appearance looks so scary and disgusting. This woman had often seen the appearance of people like them. Usually they will rob and the money will be used to buy drinks or drugs. “I won’t give it to you guys!” the woman named Correy exclaimed. The attitude against Correy only made them even angrier. One even dared to pull Correy’s short hair so hard he roared in pain.

Even her hair had no dye and wasn’t rebonded. Her hair was thick and black, just like her eyebrows, and her eyelashes were long and full. She wasn’t fair-skinned either—she was morena—but her skin was smooth. She didn’t look like someone who used glutathione or took gluta drips just to become fairer. He didn’t know why, but these days it was rare for him to see women who hadn’t had cosmetic procedures. Sometimes, just to join pageants, people already altered their faces.

She got her own Yoruba flag plastered on the wall. She is wearing pink nightgown. Her Cornrow bun is gorgeous. Earrings and necklace are filled with gold. Her body is slim, but she packs a lot of punch. She is 6’0” in height, taller than Jymia and I. Light pink lip gloss and peak eyeshadow for her makeup. The nails on her hands and feet are halfway done being painted pink. My sister loves pink and loves to express her femininity, but she doesn’t fool around with any nonsense.

In front of a full-length mirror, Cora was watching her own reflection. Cora couldn't help but smile as she watched her very different self on this particular day. Cora was wearing a long flowing dress of ruby pink color. On both of her exposed shoulders, there was a circular translucent fabric with luxurious trinkets. When reflected in the sunlight, the luxurious trinkets would light up and show their radiance. While looking at the design of the dress on her body, Cora stroked her belly. She was already eight months pregnant. Cora is very excited and can't wait to witness the birth of her child next month.

And in the corner, chained to the wall with silver that burned into her wrists and ankles, was a woman. She was thin, too thin, like she hadn't eaten properly in years. Her clothes were rags barely hanging onto her body. But her hair—even tangled and dirty, I gasped, I could see it, the ginger hair color, the same shade as mine when the light hit it right. "Hello?" My voice echoed weird in the space. "Can you hear me?" The woman's head lifted slowly, like it took all her strength. Her eyes found mine and I felt something in my chest crack wide open.

Cordelia frowned and looked at the source of the voice. She was greeted by the sight of a woman who wore bright makeup and large sunglasses that covered half of her face with dramatic earrings and necklaces as she sashayed in. “Isn’t it said that I have a professional team?” She took off her sunglasses and looked at Cordelia with hostility. “Where?” Mr. Smith and Cordelia exchanged a look, nodding lightly. Cordelia stretched her hand with a smile. “Ms. Mona Adams, right? I’m—”

Tara was dressed up in a crisp white blouse with voluminous sleeves that cinched at her wrist, soft and breathable yet sturdy enough for combat. Over it she wore a dark brown leather corset vest, laced tightly in the front, hugging her front and offering both form and function . Under she had slim and Flexi trouserss tucked into leather boots, her hair was braided neatly back, practical and battle ready. She was confident because she already had skills necessary for sword fighting. As she came out of her room, two handsome vampire soldiers were standing waiting for her,

’ she thought. Cole watched two ladies dressed in white T-shirts over cut-off jeans shorts sniffed and then openly gaped at him. They both had witch black hair like Isabelle, but their hair was straight unlike her wavy curls. They braid their hair into two cornrows and the length reached just below their bum. One had dark brown eyes and the other had deep blue eyes. The one with the deep blue eyes was shorter than the other one and had an oval-shaped face.