Elena Gallagher Lopez Mga Nobela at Kwento

Joshua paused and then he sucked in air. He raised his lower head to look at my face. I could see the guilt and pain that swam freely in his eyes. But then they watered surprising me. Was he about to cry? "Her name wasn't Layla Campbell. It was Elena, Elena Vasquez... A professional con artist who was wanted in several countries. And it..." He sniffled. "It turned out that... The lady you have been looking for for the past 3... 4 years now, the person who conned your grandfather and caused him to develop an early dementia, that person... That person was Elena."

I searched his eyes for an answer, but whatever it was lay deep in his heart, a place I couldn’t reach with just my eyes. “She was brought back to life,” he revealed. “Elena?” My heart hammered as her name escaped my mouth. “No, Rhoda. She was returned from the dead by the moon goddess. And now my brother won’t rest until he finds her killer,” he answered. It was more relieving to hear Rhoda was back to life than Elena. Not that it did any good for both of us, but at least, it wouldn’t be on my side to struggle from the beginning again. I sighed, shaking my head as thoughts evaded it. “So what’s going happen. Everything’s in place, you need to do something,”

People were already gathering—men and women in formalwear, masks covering their faces, champagne flutes in their hands, cruelty in their eyes. Elena moved like smoke through them, Lucien close by her side. Her gown—a sleek black silk creation with sharp lines and a plunging back—commanded attention. But it was the stillness in her that made her dangerous. The eyes that watched everything. The quiet strength that dared someone to test her. “I see familiar faces,” Lucien murmured under his breath. “Old money, old crimes. That man by the bar runs a cartel in Brazil. The woman in gold used to launder money through child hospitals. And the one near the stage... she sells intel to every side of ev

Even half the staff did the same, those that were usually too careless to observe titles and appearances. I leaned back on the armrest of the lounge chair, as I tapped on the polished wood, slowly replaying everything that transpired. None of it made sense to me, because Elon, no, Elena, was the name I had known her with. She's obviously the girl from the gala night. The one that wrote the killer dress, with soft curves, painted full lips, and a dangerous beauty. She never left Fort's side, and obviously doesn't have a twin. She's a woman, right?

“The lady you bumped at Sta. Lucia?” Eli nodded. She remembered the girl too well. She was at the parade and as if fate had arranged their meeting, he found out that the stranger was looking for Trina Gatchalian. The step-sister of Dorothea. “Who would have thought that she was linked to Sofia Morales.” Andrea only nodded. “Was there really no sign with the husband?” “No. I’m sure he doesn’t know that his wife was back in the Philippines three days ago.”

Helen’s eyes darted as realization struck. She was now the owner of Lichfield Hospital. If she wanted to fire someone, she could. Elena was just an employee working under her. If she wanted her to take a business trip, she would go. If she wanted her to work overtime, she had no choice but to comply. “So… which department does Elena belong to?” “She’s the head of cardiology. Not only that, but she’s also the youngest PhD in the country with the most published research papers. The only experts who surpass her in this field are overseas.” Zac explained.

Miranda and Helga seemed confused, they didn't really understand what was going on again. "Mum! What's happening? Why is that bitch up there again?" Miranda asked Helga, extreme shock of imbalances ran through her spine. "I don't understand either! Something is amiss really!" Helga responded. "Hi everyone, Good day, it's an honor to be in the front of your all once again today, my name is Ella Liam, the new director of Liam Group of Companies, before I proceed, I would appreciate if we could all stand up and give a minutes moment of solace to my late, precious my dear mother, Mrs Skyler Liam," Everyone heard that felt pity and stood up, Bruce Harry wasn't left out. Helga and Miranda didn't w

Because it meant someone was playing a longer game. “She smiled at me,” I murmured. “Like she knew something.” “She probably did.” I stood and crossed to him, pressing my hands to his chest. “Then we figure it out. Together. Okay?” His hands came up, holding my waist. “Together,” he echoed. I leaned into him. “We don’t run anymore.” He kissed me—slow and deep. “No. We fight.” Michael called an hour later. “I know who she is,” he said without preamble. “Her name’s Elena Varas. Ex-intelligence. She went dark three years ago. Off the grid. Word is she’s a freelancer now—surveillance, blackmail, extraction. High-end only.”