Gemma Ward Great Gatsby Novels & Stories

He might be the terrifying Alpha King to the rest of the world, but over the past month, I've seen the truth: this man values nothing more than family. I empty my cup of licorice tea and hand Gemma the second one. She thanks me warmly and takes a sip. Gemma was originally just one of the servants Maddox assigned to nurse me back to health. But once I fully recovered, I dismissed the rest of the staff back to their duties and kept Gemma as my personal maid. I’ve taken a real liking to her; she is sweet, fiercely supportive, and doesn't have an ounce of negativity in her bones. “You’re going to look spectacular tonight, my lady!” Gemma claps her hands together, rushing over to my dressing room

No sooner had I completely taken in all her golden beauty than her green eyes beamed with joy. Aha! Reading about him in magazines and watching him on television was not the same as seeing him again. He was a billionaire who was reported to be living a Gatsby kind of lifestyle. Unsure of whether the cameras had done him enough justice, he still managed to maintain his good looks and even look much better over the years. His memory, however, had never been one of his best qualities, and as I tried eavesdropping, I wondered if he even remembered me. But how could he? He has a lot of women running around him. How will he remember me? I wouldn’t remember myself…

"Thank you so much, for all your help. I can't believe you did this in an hour, I don't think I would have been able to pull this off by myself” "Please" Jemima scoffed, "I was just doing my job" Jemima tilted her head, her reflection on the mirror. "I must say when Andrew told me to style you, I was really curious to see the woman who stormed the Fashion world and changed it," "I know" Gabby waves a hand. "I don't look it right?" "No," Jemima answered "you are over qualified for the part, I am really happy to have met you" "Thanks". Gabby said, her face lit up with a wide grin.

my brother said in a restless voice, and the lights went out. When they were lighted, Hadrian entered, in all his height and glory with an eye patch, and by his side, he had Emma with him. I saw her in that red silk dress, she looked beautiful, exquisite and her face searched between the tables until it met my eyes. Her people were flooded by a sea of confusion, of sorrow, by a storm that was blown away when my brother took her hand and kissed it, then she smiled at me and something told me, deep down, that she had done all this to get me out of check.

I know how hard it is to get a great assistant who attends to your every need without you having to open your mouth and Yemaya had sent her better half to the other side of the world with a salary increase and tears in her eyes. “I know what you’re going to say, but Gemma waited years for her prince charming, when she told me she was getting married, I felt so happy for another human being and I had the honeymoon planned before she said ‘I do’. That was the only way I could show my gratitude for every side of me she's put up with over the years.” “What sides? All you do is laugh.” Maya rolls her eyes, and I laugh. “Gemma will be returning next month so try to hold on till then.”

It was an emotion he could not allow to surface, and he left it to roil beneath his composed exterior. However, Gemma did not notice it. After giving her gift, she slipped quietly away from the wedding. She was a coward. She simply did not have the courage to witness her Uncle Murphy marrying Evangeline with her own eyes. She was sorry, but she was not strong enough for that. She truly wished Uncle Murphy well, but she could never bring herself to accept Evangeline. After leaving the wedding, Gemma went to the cemetery to lay one final bouquet of flowers on her parents' graves.

I drift near a tray of silver beads, pretending to examine a brooch shaped like a crescent. “Headaches common after ceremonies,” a voice said on my shoulder, gentle. I wasn't scared, but my wolf raised her head. Gemma stood there in charcoal, hair braided back, ink messed on her fingers, passing for any other citizen who wrote more than she fought. She tucked a coin into the salt seller’s hand and turned to me like we had planned this. I answered softly, “I’m hydrating.” “Good.” Her gaze dropped to my chest for a minute, then returned to my face. “Pretty pendant. Old work?” “My mother’s.” I kept my voice mild, noncommittal.

Maya just nodded, already looking not so angry but also lazy to talk. Maya’s car sped away as soon as Gemma closed the door. Gemma stood for a moment on the sidewalk, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She just wanted to feel Ayria’s morning air that never disappoints her when she inhaled it. Gemma turned around, looked up at the small window that showed where she lived. She squirmed at the thought of how comfortable it would be to be on the small bed that was right next to the window. “Home sweet home,” Gemma muttered, climbing the steps and into the library. *

​Lydia was warning me. ​I smoothed my skirt and headed downstairs. Standing in the foyer was a woman who looked like she’d been carved out of ice. She was in her late thirties, dressed in a red power suit that screamed old money and older grudges. This was Genevieve Sterling—Julian’s former business partner and, if the rumors were true, the woman he’d jilted to marry my mother.

On the day of my wedding anniversary, I receive a strange photo from a friend back home. "Why is your wife working at a nightclub?" his message reads. In the photo he sent, my wife, Gwendolyn Shaw, is wearing a tight-fitting skirt. She looks utterly miserable as a group of men forces alcohol down her throat. I am the richest man in Shenton City. So why on earth is my wife entertaining men for money at a nightclub? Before I can question her about it, she sends me a selfie from a hospital checkup. "It's been three whole years since you left the country, honey. I miss you so much…" I stare at the photo in disbelief. My beautiful wife has shaved her head. Her skin is dry and sallow, and