George Michael Daughter Name Novels & Stories

“Are you okay now? Do you still want to go ahead with your slow death scheme?” George regained his serious face, stood up from the chair and proceeded in a wall shaped door and then out of it with a blue lamented file. He dropped it on the table and pushed it over to Paige's side. “These are your rights to the properties. Luckily, Ivan wasn't able to hide the truth that you are your dad's biological daughter. We've got the house documents and probably the company's and most properties rights. ” George continued to speak while silently taking a glance at the woman who sat there flipping through the papers of the files.

Savannah interrupted him impatiently as she shook her head and said, "I don't want to listen to this now. My father is still in the emergency room. I'm not interested in listening to the messy things between you and Rainie!" As she spoke of Rainie, Callan stood up and then sat down beside Savannah. He clasped his hands in front of his chest. "Vannah, are you and Principal George father and daughter?" After what happened just now, Savannah knew that she couldn't hide the relationship between her and Rainie. Although she really didn't want to admit the disgusting relationship between her and the George Family, she could only nod and admit it now. "Yes, I'm Walden George's daughter, but I'm not

she grinned. I forced a smile and shook her hand. “Thanks.” “Don’t you feel hurt wearing that veil?” she asked, already reaching toward it. I gently caught her wrist. “Nah, I’m fine.” “I’m Naomi,” she said proudly. “Oh… nice, nice.” “I’m George’s sister.” My mind blanked. My mouth fell open. “Uh… sorry...I’m confused.” She laughed lightly. “Well… that means you’re my step-mom.” I swallowed. “Oh...yeah. Yeah.”

I said softly. “Stranger? I didn’t.” she answered quickly, her eyes glued to the new doll in her hands. “I saw you. You were talking to a man outside the toy store,” I pressed, my voice more serious now. She paused, then her eyes lit up. “Oh! Uncle George!” “Uncle George…” My stomach turned at the sound of his name from our daughter’s lips. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Mommy, no. Uncle George isn’t a stranger. He’s Uncle Aris’ friend. We met him in London!” she explained, her tone cheerful, like she was sharing a secret.

“Sir—“ “George.” “George.” I gulped, unsure of how I was going to hand him the news. Everyone knew Torres had a temper, meaning this could go both ways. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but I have reasons to believe that your daughter might be in some kind of romantic relationship with Marvin Castillo.” “W-what?” George looked into my eyes. His face paled, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he was close to fainting. “I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken.” He chuckled. “Elena broke off all contact with that man.”

The golden daughter who could do no wrong, who inherited everything, who had the company handed to her on a silver platter even though she had never worked a day in her life for it. And now she had Damien Carrington too. Victoria pulled up to George's apartment building twenty minutes later, her tears finally slowing. She checked her reflection in the rearview mirror, making sure her distress was still visible but not too extreme. Timing was everything. She knocked on his door, and when George opened it; still in his dress shirt from earlier, tie loosened, looking exhausted, Victoria immediately fell into his arms. George instinctively wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "George,

- she replies. - Stop it," I interject into the discussion, "You're not children anymore to be on this warpath, and I'm not your nanny! Laila and George are not blood cousins, Laila is the adopted daughter of my best friend's aunt and uncle. - Let's go get some drinks," I determine, and George walks ahead of me with a frown on his face. - I don't understand why you guys are so annoying," I manage to catch up with him.

Mia abruptly pushes open the door and stands in the doorway, clutching a tupperware in her hand. - I'm willing to marry him, but on one condition. George looks toward the door and sees his daughter, whom he hasn't seen in eight years. He is lost in thought for a few seconds. She was a ten-year-old child when he sent her here. Now she is already an adult, fair-skinned, but very thin, with a small face the size of a palm. She is skinny and looks weak, as if she hasn't developed well. She is not as cute as his little girl.

Alexander: My Luna… let’s compromise if you like… Catherine Angela. Evangeline: Why do you insist she be named after my mother? Why not your mother? Alexander: It’s to honor her, my Luna. She gave you life, and until her very last breath, she hoped for your return. So, I’d like our daughter to have her own name. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks and looked at my little princess. Evangeline: Then it will be Catherine… I love you, Xander. Alexander: I love you too, Angel. Thank you for this wonderful gift you’ve just given me. Our children are beautiful, my wonderful Luna.

Her expression immediately hardened. She reached the bottom of the stairs and ignored the guard who attempted to guide her toward Desmond. Without acknowledging anyone, she walked to a quiet corner and sat down. Desmond watched her. Michael suddenly appeared beside him and casually draped an arm around his shoulder. “So where's Clinton's daughter?” Desmond glanced at him. “Annabelle.” “I want to meet her.” “You're interested?” Michael laughed. “I want to know whether she's really worth all this attention.” Desmond gave him a warning look. “If you're that interested, search for her on I*******m.”