Ghost Of My Past Girlfriends Mga Nobela at Kwento

I put my head back up to look at her and shrug my shoulders and chuckle. “Ghost knocked her up twenty some years ago, she cowardly walked away from the life she once lived and started a new one as if the old one never occurred, me included.” I say with sorrow laced in my tone. “Ghost? Holy shit.” She says just as surprised as I was only an hour ago. “Yeah…” I say quietly. “And then what happened?” She asks intently. “And then I told her how shitty of a person she is and even after all that she had the balls to try to make me a deal.” I say laughing in disbelief still.

"Look at your heart. Did you ever really love me?" Felix had laughed bitterly, my friend told me. He had said: "You're right. I should have known. I never loved you." The ghost had worn itself out over the years. He had been clinging to the past — unwilling to let go, too proud to find an answer. So he dragged his present self down with him. And I had sentenced him for it. Felix kept one thing close. A short video, my friend said. He watched it often, late at night, when he couldn't sleep.

“What happened?” “Grams was murdered last year. Mom’s latest boyfriend sexually assaulted me during one of my episodes. She caught him before it went too far, but somehow, it was my fault. I think she was tired of me depending on her.” “Where’s the guy?” Ghost was grinding his teeth as he spoke. I shrugged my shoulders, not even wanting to speculate that they were still together. “Are you safe?” “Not really. The guys who killed my grandmother took a shot at me.”

You still like doing sudden kisses, yet I love it. "What kind of song do you want me to pick though? Is there any requirements?" I took the pen and the notebook and placed it on my lap as I read the words written at the top in the middle. It says: dance with my ghost playlist. I have to admit. It triggered something inside me, especially the word ghost, but I chose to hold it and keep it to myself instead. I don't want to provoke another fight. I think I've already mentioned this to myself before and I have to keep it. "Well, preferably songs for a dead boyfriend."

“I’m guessing he found some random whore to screw. That’d explain it.” My eyes widen at her words. “Don’t say shit like that.” Even his sister talks about him with disgust. Her head tilts. “What? It’s the truth. Do you have any idea how many used condoms the cleaners find in his office at the club?” She laughs, but something about her tone makes my stomach churn. Jealousy? I don’t even know why I feel it, but it’s there. “I’d rather not talk about Ghost and his habits, especially not with you—his little sister.” Grabbing my phone, I check for a reply from Ghost. Nothing. What the hell is he up to now?

“Ian, darling. I don’t understand any of this. You and I have been together for over a year now. How could you just toss us away over a woman you met only a few weeks ago?” She looked into his eyes and immediately understood the concern the men had expressed. His normally expressive dark eyes looked empty and hollow. He was moving about and talking, but it was in a far less animated way than normal. Ian and her father had been friends since she was a young girl, long before she’d been sent back east to finishing school. Between the time she spent in his company during her early years and this last year of their courting, she felt she knew him well. This was not her Ian. What had that

Adults take it all. "Do you have any idea how miserable it was being around you? You were moody and unpredictable, barking orders whenever you felt like it. "Everyone said I was a gold digger, clawing my way up the social ladder. To get what I wanted, I swallowed every insult and endured every humiliation. But today, I'm done enduring. "Blame yourself for everything. You offended too many people and even got someone's mother killed. Now, the evidence is airtight. Let's see how you crawl your way back from this.

We already tasted Marirose’s virgin pussy—' “I don’t let anyone step on me. You know that.” 'Still... I can’t get the new girl out of my head,' Ghost said, his voice husky in the back of my mind. “It’s not happening,” I growled. 'Your heart was racing when you had her pinned against the wall. Your cock was aching—desperate to slide into her tight, wet heat—' “That was you, Ghost. Not me,” I snapped. I stared out the windshield in silence, lost in thoughts of the past. 'You’re thinking again…'

"And you are?" "Camilla Dante. Ghost's moll." "Moll?" Ciara repeated. It was a weird term. Never heard of it. "Girlfriend." Camilla rephrased. Girlfriend. Ciara let the word echo in her head. Ghost had a girlfriend. And a pretty and bitchy one at that. It shouldn't be surprising. The man might be one hell of a devil but he was undeniably sexy. Any woman would want him. Would 'literally' and 'obsessively' want him.

Multiple camera feeds opened across his monitors as he started organizing the footage. I leaned back in my chair again, suddenly feeling far more exhausted than I cared to admit. Nothing about the last week had gone the way it should have. The contract should’ve been exposed. It wasn’t. Ghost had somehow turned a forgery into something that looked impossible to challenge. I know it was ghost. I just don’t have proof of that either. Now an ancient journal had appeared in the middle of my club without a single camera capturing the person responsible. The more answers we searched for… The more questions we uncovered.