Novelas y relatos de Evelyn American Psycho

But then I really looked at him—his dilated pupils, the fine sheen of sweat glistening on his bare chest, the unmistakable bulge straining against his boxers. Recognition hit me instantly. "Shit," I muttered. "She drugged you." Evelyn's innocent "fertility tonic" suddenly made perfect sense. The old witch hadn't given up on getting her great-grandchildren after all. She'd resorted to pharmaceutical intervention. "You need to go back to the study," I said firmly, keeping the sheet between us as a barrier. "Right now, Ryan." Instead of retreating, he sank onto the edge of my bed, his weight creating a dip that rolled me slightly toward him. The proximity sent an unwelcome jolt of awareness thr

Evelyn didn’t look at him. Instead, she walked straight to the vanity, picking up random items, putting them down again, to keep her hands busy. Roman watched her quietly. Then he shut the door behind him. “…Do I want to know what I did wrong?” he asked. Evelyn let out a short laugh. “Oh, you don’t know?” “No.” She turned, her eyes sharp. “Ask your Amelia.” Roman blinked. “My… what?” “Your Amelia,” she repeated, folding her arms. “Your close Amelia. The one who knows exactly how you like your coffee. Down to the temperature.”

Lila said, waggling her eyebrows. Evelyn snorted. “Please. Look at me. I have paint in my hair and haven’t slept in three days.” “You’re gorgeous and you know it. Also, men like him don’t wander into Brooklyn cafés by accident.” “Maybe he likes coffee.” “Girl. He has people who get his coffee. People who have people.” Evelyn pulled the card from her pocket, turned it over in her fingers. “He said to call when I decide on a price.”

I whispered, half-appalled and half-proud. "I prefer the term 'consultant,'" Leo replied. "Deal." I slipped the watch off and handed it to him under the counter. "Good," Leo said, pocketing the watch. "Now, add a teaspoon of warm water to the sauce and whisk like your life depends on it. Because it does. Mommy’s here." The door swung open, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees. Evelyn walked in. She looked breathtaking. And terrifying. She was wearing a cream-colored power suit, her hair pulled back into a sleek, lethal ponytail. She was looking at a clipboard, her brow furrowed in that specific way that meant someone was about to get sued.

A lot of crazy ideas were running through her head, but she was determined to go with the craziest one. She approached the car trunk and, to her surprise, it was not locked. She looked around, making sure no one was watching, and quietly slipped into the car trunk. She didn't mind the suffocation; she would rather die than watch her friend being treated awfully. Minutes later, she felt the car door open and close, indicating that the driver was back. The car roared back into life, and the journey that would change everything she had ever seen in her life began. She was leaving behind her painting career to go dine with the devil. Would she be the same Adriana that escaped her parents' mansio

Evelyn – POV I woke up to sunlight brushing against my face, warm but cruel. For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. Then the blanket wrapped around me, the faint smell of coffee, and the quiet of Clara’s apartment reminded me. Reality crashed in again. Ethan. The house, Ethan’s laugh, the papers, the slap. My chest clenched so tight I could barely breathe. I curled deeper into the blanket Clara had wrapped around me last night, pressing my palm against my stomach. My baby. My child. The one thing Ethan would never take from me.

"Evelyn, as in Evelyn White? The CEO of Eva's and Co.? The beautiful, sexy, hot and smart Evelyn White? Your Evelyn White?" I rolled my eyes again at his stupid description. "No. Evelyn Parker. Evelyn Morrison. Evelyn Pristley. How many other Evelyns do you know about? Of course, the same Evelyn. White, you shithead!" I scowled at him to which he raised his hands in surrender.

William bowed his head, jaw tightening. “It wasn’t from me.” Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly. “Not… you?” “No. Someone wanted to hurt you. And I’m certain I know who it was.” --- A few minutes later, a doctor entered the room—a middle-aged man in a white coat, holding lab results in his hand. “Mr. William, we’ve completed the initial analysis. Evelyn’s blood contains a high concentration of synthetic alkaloids—enough to cause symptoms like vomiting, unconsciousness, and disorientation.”

Elizabeth can't be lying. “Fine. You can check the Cctv, I have nothing to hide,” Evelyn said confidently. It was a good thing that she cleared the footage. “You don't look stupid mum. I'm sure you must have cleared the footage. We don't need to check the Cctv. I have the evidence in my phone.” Evelyn paled instantly as she gulped down. This girl must be a witch. She was clear that no one saw her. How was she able to get the evidence in her phone?

She didn't want to see Megan so broken. Evelyn’s smile widened, a cold, evil grin that made Megan’s skin crawl. “Oh, Brittany, what is the rush all about?” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “The fun has just begun. If she’s going to die, it’s only fair that she knows why.” Evelyn stepped back, one hand resting on her hip, the other holding the gun loosely at her side. Her eyes gleamed with a sinister sense of pleasure as she began to tell Megan what had really happened.