Eleanor Bonneville Novels & Stories

Eleanor was a hard woman to please. The designers exchanged nervous glances. Sir Fabrizio stepped forward, unveiling a show stopping, beaded masterpiece. "Voilà! This will make you the belle of the day." He said smiling and she snapped at him. "No matter what I wear, I will always be the Belle." She sneered and he moved back awkwardly. Madame Patel chuckled nervously as she brought out another stunning lace beauty. "What about this one Miss?" Eleanor's eyes widened. "Travis, what do you think?" she asked, turning to him.

Eleanor, who was acquainted with the owner, Bobby Lake, skillfully ordered a few dishes, saying, "I'd like a serving of spicy fish stew, a serving of fish and beef croquettes respectively, and two servings of buttered pasta." Bobby smiled faintly and said, "Got it, Ms. Sutton. Please wait for a little while." Eleanor found a seat and reached for her long hair, gathering it up and securing it with an exquisite hairpin at the back of her head. Then, she picked up her phone and casually scrolled through news stories, making it clear that she wasn't interested in chatting with Michael. Her 1.2-million-dollar handbag was simply placed to the side, receiving no further attention from her.

Ronald's eyes, Eleanor could already read that he was interested in her body. Eleanor, on the other hand, felt challenged and satisfied after attracting Mr. Ronald's attention. Luckily, she was wearing a waitress outfit as a disguise. Eleanor deliberately exposes her body fully to Mr. Ronald, making him move slowly closer to her. Just from the look in Mr. Ronald's eyes, Eleanor could already read that he was interested in her body. As soon as he arrived in front of her, Eleanor bowed down. Secretly curving a small grin. "You're very beautiful," Mr. Ronald said after Eleanor had straightened up. "But, why do I feel familiar with you? Have we met somewhere before?"

I responded as honestly as I could, “I don’t know what I can have with him. I have this, this connection with him. It’s strange, weird and bizarre, but it’s there, alive and beating like a heart. I know he doesn’t feel the same. This morning he was going to walk out without even saying goodbye, but I couldn’t bear the thought. My body actually wanted me to run to him, fall at his feet and beg him not to leave. Of course, my head didn’t let me do anything so ridiculous so it came up with the next best option. If I had not done this, who knows if I’d ever see him again?” “Wow,” she said. “Eleanor , you are one insanely lucky girl. I was expecting some kinky old bastard to buy you, instead you

Hunter screams at me, and his eyes have this murderous look that makes my blood run cold. I’m actually thinking about running, but my feet feel too stiff to move. I can’t even make myself move when he’s holding me down with a glare like that. “Ten months ago, Hunter, you told me you found the solution to your little problem,” Eleanor says. Her voice is all clean and quiet, like she has perfect etiquette, but she’s still pinning me down with her gaze. “You said you’ve got the perfect woman. She’s resilient, building a tech empire from nothing, and she’s emotionally stranded. Therefore she’ll be the perfect candidate.”

She remembered how she'd disappeared at the last party she went to with Harrison but August won't hurt anymore, he was nowhere to be found. She quickly made a U-turn, deciding to leave as soon as possible. It must be a trap. As she held the doorknob, she heard a tiny pretty voice, "Eleanor. I've been waiting for you." Eleanor turned back and saw a pale beautiful woman. Judging from the silky elegant dress she was putting on, we could say she was Queen Charlotte. "Hi, I thought you weren't… so I was just about to take my leave." Eleanor went in and hugged the lady lightly, she still had no idea who it was that she came to see.

Despite her petite frame compared to mine, her grip was surprisingly strong, she had a strength one wouldn't expect from someone like her. Eleanor was the host of the party and the yacht belonged to her husband, Tom. Eleanor was a pretty girl. She looked to be in her early twenties. She was tall, standing at about 5ft9 with blonde hair and captivating blue eyes. She’d said that she used to work as a supermodel and had met her husband, Tom, at a fashion show in New York.

"Somebody else did." "Of course somebody else did! Did you really think I would do it?", Veronique trusted her hands into the air. "You, Michael Philippe de Beaumont, are a disgrace for fucking such a lower class woman when the whole world lays before your feet! You were pronounced a desired bachelor, you had wealthy, high-class women surrounding you, yet you chose her? Even when Eleanor offered herself over and over to you, you stayed with her!" "Life isn't about power, wealth and status only mother."

Astra stilled inside me, alert but pleased. Madame Du Bois moved closer to Eleanor. “You are not qualified to tell me who I hunt with.” Eleanor’s face turned pale with anger and shame. For a moment, she looked ready to argue, but the pressure from Madame Du Bois held her in place. She had power, but not this kind. Not this old, steady Luna power. Amélie grabbed Eleanor’s sleeve. “Let’s go.” Eleanor pulled her arm free, but she did not speak again. Her eyes moved to me, full of warning, then back to Madame Du Bois.