Evie Zamora Novels & Stories

Former supermodel Elizabeth Zamora was detained as a result of numerous offences. After they arrested her, she remained silent. She was just silent and giving everyone a blank stare. She was against hiring an attorney. She only desired to be locked up. She had no feelings at all. Due to what she did, everyone is shocked. Like wildfire, the news quickly spread. Due to the news, their father came home. The Philippines is where Mr. Zamora is. The media is doing everything it can to publish a tabloid article about them. Indeed, they are now the most well-known news. They achieved success on getting the attention of everyone. That has made Mr. Zamora very irate.

Evie said, a cold, calculating light entering her eyes. The hook of their plan didn't rely on bullets or encryption keys. It relied on the one skill Evie had mastered long before she met a Mafia King: **the power of the dead.** Before she was a writer of novels or a "widow" of a ghost, Evie had been a writer of obituaries. She knew how to look at a person’s life and find the one sentence that defined their end. She knew how to dig into the pasts of the powerful to find the rot they thought they had buried.

Damien asked her, jerking her back from her wild thoughts. She ignored his question and simply went back to what she was doing. While Damien still stood there watching her and saying nothing again, Elle then appeared from nowhere coming towards them. Ariel who was back up the ladder was immediately disgusted by the sight of Elle and she began swearing under her breath to kill her if she dared trouble her.

Etiquettes, series of political studies, histories, and other activities a noble must learn. "Mama..." Rita's small voice made Morrigan halt in her tracks. Her eyes widened at Rita. Rita's small hands reached towards Morrigan's cheeks. "Rita?" Confusion etched in Morrigan's eyes, trying to comprehend what Rita wanted to say. Rita's small hands remained on her face then started to pinch her cheeks lightly. "Mama..." Something within Morrigan swirled. A swirl of joy and confusion. The raw emotion of someone calling her a mother makes her heart swell. She never knew that she wanted it for too long, maybe thought that with the loss of Jabez it might be a long way for her to be a mother. "You wan

It was war smelling the mate bond. I thought the bond was dead. “You smell like power now,” he growled. “Like storms and the moonlight. What really happened to you?” I stood tall, refusing to hide my body. “I survived. I was what you tried to kill.” Damon’s jaw dropped. For the first time, I felt pain appear right in his eyebrows. “I was wrong, Annie. Cassandra lied to me. I only allowed pride and fear to make me throw away the best thing in my life… my coming Luna.”

“Come join me in flashing the unsuspected then, if you want- you'll just draw attention away from me.” “No way in infierno. Remember? I'm pure as la Virgin,” she declared, sending those around us into fits of laughter. Evanna Morales was known for many things, innocence not among them. She took it all in stride, crossing her arms to gaze regally out the window. Her pendant flashed at her throat as she fingered it idly. The fetish engraved on it shot across my vision. I nearly fell into the aisle. “Callie, what's wrong?” Eva asked, shocked. “You look like you've seen el Diablo's shadow,” she said, taking my hand in hers as her eyes shone with concern.

​The silence that followed the first explosive fight was not a peaceful one; it was the pressurized quiet of a deep-sea trench. In the wake of Damon’s crushing "purchased asset" revelation, Evie retreated to the West Wing, not out of submission, but to prevent herself from shattering. The bruise on her wrist was fading to a dull yellow, but the wound to her dignity was fresh, raw, and bleeding. She sat at her drafting table, the city lights below mocking her with their freedom, realizing that she had been playing a game where her opponent had memorized the rulebook while she was still struggling to read the board.

Rio was a sorceress, the hammer, her wand. "Come on! Hit me like you mean it!" Evie demanded, swinging her cutlass hard enough to strike a few sparks. Her face was flushed from the exertion, but she didn't want to stop any time soon. Her small frame dodged my attacks, doing a cute little spin before she lunged with fervor. With a chuckle, I ducked under her attack, grasping her arm gently and drawing her close to my body. Her lips parted as I held out her dominant arm, disarming her.

Evie had been an only child, so it was just Hank, Jasmine, and me standing to the left of the funeral director. There was the eulogy afterward, and everyone who came up to give their speech would always give me a nasty look before addressing the audience. However, my greatest virtue was my magnanimity, after all, and I simply responded to everyone with a huge smile. I even blew kisses at a couple of them. "Evie Sandoval, born August 7, 1999. Passed away January 3, 2024, at just 25 years old… "Looking back on her life, it was brilliant yet fleeting and regrettable. She was a good, kind soul, respectful of her parents, kind to her coworkers, and loyal to her family—"