Elizabeth And James Nirvana Black Perfume の小説・ストーリー

Fourteen reasons to keep her head down and her mouth shut. The cubicle felt smaller today. She hunched over another soul-crushing productivity patch while the whispers floated around her like they always did. "That's the one Elias blacklisted." The words twisted in her stomach, making her shoulders tight and her throat dry. She pressed her thighs together under the desk, trying to ignore the faint echo that still lingered from this morning. It only made the ache worse. She was halfway through the patch when those sleek black heels stopped beside her desk. The perfume hit first... something dark, expensive, and unmistakably female. Then the voice, warm and dangerous at the same time.

•Juliet POV• My eyes widned in shock as the realization hit me. My voice shook as I muttered, “That means... the perfume out there is just a replica of Jace Perfume.” Vera’s face tightened. She let out a slow breath and nodded. “This must’ve been how James did it. He took the original and replaced it with fakes. No wonder people were getting burns and rashes. It wasn’t ours.”

the saleslady reminded her. "Show me what you got," she said. "This is the Elizabeth Taylor White Diamonds Eau de Toilette. We only have one stock of this here and it will cost you two hundred fifty thousands, Ma'am." "Okay? May I know the smell of that?" Irish asked permission. "Yes Ma'am." The saleslady gets the other bottle of perfume with the same brand she is holding. It's for the testing purposes. Irish sprayed a little in her palm and smell it. "Hmmm. The smell seems like strawberry?" she said questionably after smelling it.

For Elizabeth, that night was a game-changer. The corridors were empty as Elizabeth strolled around with Anaj tailing her from behind. The garden was blooming with fine emerald leaves, and white roses. Her mother, the Queen, has always been fond of white roses. Behind the bushes, across the corridor, was Penelophe plucking a few weeds off the ornaments. "Penelophe..." Elizabeth called on her. "Elizabeth, my dear princess. What brought you to the garden?" Penelophe asked, her eyes observing the cleavage that popped out of Elizabeth's tight, pastel-blue gown.

Elizabeth promised. "Of course," James agreed. Elizabeth thanked him, gathered a bag to put her ingredients, and left. _______________________________ James sat down on the bed beside Firian. Besides the injured wolf's scent, he could also pick up Elizabeth's scent, stronger than Firian's, on the blankets. It wasn't too strong, of course, she'd only slept a few nights here, but it was there. James lifted her discarded shirt to his face, her scent overwhelming his senses. He had wanted to come and see her today, he knew that much about himself. What he couldn't understand was why. What drew her so much to him?

“Could be one of her usual concoctions. A lot of people swear by them. Kevin, my mate, takes one every morning for his stiff back—something about an old injury while shifted. Says it helps a lot.” “Then why wouldn’t she just tell me?” “She’s... a peculiar woman. Or maybe she just knows how to keep a secret,” Elizabeth says, smiling faintly. Unscrewing the cap, I give the liquid a cautious sniff, but it smells like nothing. As we near the pack house, the familiar structure looms before us, its heavy door just ahead. Elizabeth opens it, and the moment we step inside, the scent of Vanda surrounds me like a storm. “Elena?” he calls, his voice coming from the living room.

"You look so much like your mother." Ellie's spine was rigid beneath my hand. "Father." Eliana. There was no record of that being her full name. I'd searched everything when we'd first brought her in—birth certificates, school records, every database I could access. Ellie Knight. Nothing about Eliana. Another secret she'd kept. Another piece of herself hidden away. Vittorio's gaze slid to me, assessing with the cold calculation of someone who saw people as chess pieces. "And you must be Lorenzo, head of The Black Rose. It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard amazing things."

She called out, “Mommy.” Paityn was very fond of her child. She leaned in toward Carol, who clung to her tightly. This forced the former to lean against Jamie’s shoulder, allowing him to easily catch a whiff of her perfume. It was a fragrance called “Black Opium.” Gwen was particularly fond of that scent. Jamie prided himself on not being a lecherous man. However, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander when Paityn dressed this way and the scent of her perfume enveloped her as she leaned against him.

"Isabella is waiting for you to walk in with that London chemical. She’s ready to call you a fraud in front of the Council. But she can’t challenge my blood. No one can." ​Elara unscrewed the cap. The scent hit the air instantly—a concentrated, raw explosion of cedar, mountain air, and the dark, metallic tang that belonged only to the Blackwood line. It was the smell of power. It was the smell of us. ​She hesitated for only a second before she tipped the flask, dabbing the oil onto the pulse points of her wrists and the sensitive skin behind her ears.

Svet muttered, her head buried in her tablet. Together they made their way to Blakeney’s office. Eliza kept smiling and giggling at the way girls stared after James as if he was some kind of teen idol. Knowing how much it embarrassed him, made it even more humorous. She knew it wasn’t their fault, so she didn’t get jealous at all. She just continued laughing about it like she was the only one keyed in on a private joke. She, too, had noticed a difference in how her hands had looked because of them having been soaked in the Ambrosia while she was rubbing it onto James’s body. The skin had smoothed out, a small burn from a curling iron was gone, and her nails looked perfectly manicured.