Fleur Delacour Book Novels & Stories

At this time, a trace of confusion appeared on her face before she said, "You really are very different from the you of the past ... Never mind, I have already written the reason while you were unconscious, so you can see for yourself." When she finished, she handed me the book in her hand to read. The handwriting on the book was messy and there were signs of revision in many places. The headline reads "Reasons why Flora can't die." Ridiculous title. The first entry under the heading says, for the sake of the children. This one was probably so outrageous to herself that she deleted it and added to it that Flora was out of love and she didn't care. Number two, Leo doesn't want her to die.

Then, she fell asleep. The next day, Flora, as usual, woke up early, took a stroll in the yard, and returned to her room to open the laptop Maxwell had placed on the glass table. She began tracking Chloe's novel. Her mood was already good, and after reading, it improved even more. She wanted to call Chloe immediately but restrained herself, considering Chloe was at work.

I stared at the photograph again, at the woman in the center of it—her—laughing freely, her eyes bright, her body relaxed as she leaned into another man's side. "She looks happy," I said quietly. Syrus frowned. "So?" "I never gave Adele happiness," I replied. My voice was flat, but my chest burned. "I never saw her smile like that. Not once. Never with me." I closed the file. "That woman," I continued, my wolf's claws retracting, "is Fleur Swann. She has a life. A family. A pack of her own." I tore the file cleanly down the middle.

It was a very comfortable space, with tables and chairs in various places. My eyes immediately fell on a group of girls sitting on the sectional. “That’s her!” one of them whispered. I recognized her immediately. It was Fleur, the ex-Luna’s granddaughter. She was sitting with a couple of girls I recognized but didn’t know. And, of course, Lucinda was with them. “What the hell is she wearing?” one of them scoffed. “I can’t believe she’s actually in the packhouse.” “She’s dressed for a fucking ball.” I lifted my chin as they snickered.

Scraping his chair across the polished floor, Adrian waited for Claire to settle into her. His eyes lingered on her. She looked breathtaking. The soft maroon dress hugged her frame perfectly, making her resemble a porcelain doll. Unable to resist, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. Claire flinched. Her fingers instinctively tightened around the edge of the chair. Smiling to himself, Adrian rounded the table and took the seat opposite her. He slid the menu across the table.

All eyes weren’t on me, but I imagined they were, and that alone was enough to make my palms sweat. The doorman gave me a polite nod after he scanned my ticket confirming its validity , holding the door open as I walked inside. The hum of conversation and soft jazz hit me like a wave. Every detail oozed wealth and exclusivity. Towering floral arrangements, champagne towers, and polished marble floors reminded me just how far I was from my usual world. I scanned the room, trying to find him without looking like I was trying to find him. Luca Del Vecchio wasn’t the kind of man you stumbled upon. He was the kind of man who made you feel his presence before you saw him.

Rolling her eyes she chuckled as she realised that perhaps their cleaner had just been forgetful when putting the rubbish out. “Flora? Are you here?” She called out in a sing song tone. Slipping her shoes off and placing them on the shoe wrack, she put on her favourite fluffy pink slippers that Thomas had bought her as a gift last year for Christmas. Delia paused for a second and shook her head thinking that she had gone crazy. “Baby brain.” She laughed to herself. The house was immaculate but no sign of Flora. Delia made herself a cup of coffee and went in to the living room, she placed her hot steaming mug onto the white coffee table and threw herself onto the huge corner sofa that she had

Charlie looked at the painting of Master Marcius Stark and asked Ruby, “Miss Chain, in your opinion, why does Fleur want to send the three elders to Aurous Hill?” Ruby thought for a moment and replied, “Mr. Chardon blew himself up, my life and death are uncertain, and the Ackers are unharmed. Fleur is uncertain about who the enemy is, how many enemies there are, how strong the enemies are, and whether the enemies are dead. These are all things she wants to figure out. Besides, she definitely wants to continue targeting the Ackers.” Charlie nodded and said, “Miss Chain, you’re right. These are all urgent matters for Fleur at the moment.”

I found myself following Cool to the library. He immediately checked if there is anyone there before he closed the door and started to whisper some inaudible words as flying books came flying towards us. "What are you doing?" I asked while trying to stop myself from ducking every time a flying book came rushing to us. "You try and search for something, too. Telepathy or mind reading." He said and lifted his eyes from the book and frantically looked at me. "You being able to talk inside my head ain't normal, Fhyra. I haven't heard about a Flamia or Glacia that can do such things." He said seriously.

I feel my pants get tight. Flipping back to the first page. Reading throuhg her name. she’s Fleur. a flower that i’m about to pluck soon. No criminal record. Fleur is still in high school raised by a single mom who’s almost on her deathbed with piled up bills.I concluded this girl has no time to date. Good, she doesn’t have a boyfriend don’t want to waste bullets on that. she’s not in any underworld affiliation but needs to double-check. If she’s in any deal with the restaurant’s lord she’s working for. I smile at how easy this is going to be.