Eleanor Chipettes Novels & Stories

` He threw his head back as he cackled like a madman. `Finally, we’ll be done with this damned world.` The video glitched, and Eleanor was shown sitting on a couch and staring into the camera. `Hi,` she smiled, waving a bit. `I’m Eleanor, the sun child, or rather the Child of Day, as you’ve been told. That video was just one of the very many evils the parliamentarians have done. My friends, the rebels, and I have put together a lot of videos to show you the true twisted nature of the monsters you adore. I hope you’re comfortable because this is going to be a long ride.`

She expected the end. ​Instead, the room was filled with the scent of Chanel No. 5 and the rhythmic, predatory click-clack of expensive heels. Eleanor Montgomery swept into the room, followed by her husband, the Mayor. They looked like they had just stepped off the set of a political ad—perfectly groomed, perfectly cold. ​Eleanor didn't look at the bloodstains on the carpet. She didn't look at Chloe’s battered face with pity; she looked at it with the clinical detachment one might use to inspect a crushed insect.

Eleanor sat at the head, diamonds flashing. Charlotte was already there, in ice-blue chiffon, hair swept up, neckline plunging. She looked like a bride who’d lost her groom. She smiled when she saw Adrian (soft, hopeful). “Adrian,” she said, standing. “I wanted to apologise for earlier. I was… overwhelmed.” She moved toward him, hand extended. He didn’t take it. Charlotte’s smile wavered. Eleanor gestured to the seats. “Please. Let’s eat like civilised people.”

Not even my best friend, Chloe, thinks that. His name is Liam James, a die-hard celebrity with lots of fan girls who swoop over him. CEO, the Boss of all Bosses in Pink Moda and dangerous Casanova of all times. I, Eleanor Reyes, is sure going to prove them wrong. And, they're going to live with that. Eleanor You must be wondering how I met Liam. Well... It was on a very bad day for me. I had been walking back home. About crossing a crosswalk. I had lost the job interview and this made me frustrated.

“Give up on Archie, or say goodbye to your Rapunzel hair. If you obey me, maybe I’ll say a few good words for you. They might even let you go.” Jenna chuckled. “I don’t get why you’re obsessed with a married man. But I understand, you can’t resist a perfect man like Archie who is tall… handsome… good in bed. Ohhh, just thinking of our sweet time makes me wet.” She sighed pitifully. Eleanor’s stunned face changed into deep hatred. With a snarl, she yanked Jenna’s hair and started cutting it. But Jenna only laughed, as if she was enjoying her madness. Eleanor suddenly felt like shooting her. “What’s funny, you psychopath?! I heard one of your kids is psycho because he hit his head!”

E L L E "Twenty eight year old, Sebastian Black's ex wife and notable business woman, Eleanor Marino has got people talking after a picture of her was leaked in the media. The young divorcee was seen with a small, almost invisible baby bump, which means the billionaire heir and notorious playboy might have knocked up his ex. Sources say, she has probably cheated on her new billionaire boyfriend, Mikhail Volkov." The reporter's voice had faded, as my mind had gone completely blank.

Damian I should have looked away. Should’ve ignored the imprint of her lips on the rim of the wineglass. Should have focused on my food, on the real reason we were in this place halfway across the world. But Eleanor had a way of slipping beneath my skin without even trying. And it was getting harder to pretend I didn’t feel it. She was supposed to be my assistant. My distraction free, logic driven assistant who always had a clipboard and a schedule and zero tolerance for my nonsense. But lately... she was something else entirely. Complicated. Soft. Unpredictably magnetic.

I crossed my arms on my chest as I watched the lady swipe the card. Declined. The lady looked at her, her expression demanding what was happening. “That has to be a reception issue. You should swipe the card again,” Eleanor said confidently. The lady swiped the card again. Declined. “Your card is not working, Ms,” Eleanor blinked, “What?” Then she looked back at me over her shoulder, meeting my smirk. Her eyes widened with realisation. El was still looking at me when the lady spoke, “Ms, your card is fake,”