Hollywood Vip Crossword Clue นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Whenever they played Truth or Dare, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart, Clara would deliberately dare him to pull the same prank on me, and Ronan would always willingly play along: he would pretend to propose to me. The last time, I fell for it. I joyfully held out my hand, but a mechanism inside the ring snapped shut, and I cried out in pain. Ronan and Clara doubled over with laughter, ignoring my finger, which had been pinched purple. Afterward, Ronan pinned me against the wall and swore that this year, he would give me a real proposal. So when his bodyguards brought me to the private club where we first met, I changed into an expensive white silk gown, styled my hair, and applied my most exquisite makeup. I even played the touching scene out in my head, imagining myself nodding and saying yes. But as I pushed open the door to the VIP room, my heart pounding, someone threw a full glass of deep red wine in my face. It streamed down my chin and onto my gown. A woman's laughter erupted from the crowd. "I told you Aurora would show up, didn't I? Ronan, you lose!" Ronan walked over, looking resigned. He gently dabbed at my face with a napkin, his tone as soft as ever. "Dressed up just for me? A shame to ruin a good dress." "Clara dared me to bet on whether you would have the guts to come to our turf tonight. I bet that you would. The wager was this: if you didn't, I'd propose tomorrow. If you came, we'd have to wait another year." "Sorry, baby. Since you showed up, I guess we can't get married this year." The wine trickled down my collarbone, cold and sticky. I shivered. Suddenly, the whole thing felt utterly pointless. Our anniversary meant nothing compared to one of their pranks. Just like me. I could never win against Clara, his childhood sweetheart. I unclasped the simple silver bracelet, the one I'd worn for six years, from my wrist. "This is over. We're breaking up."

Alpha Ethan's first love, Sarah, died unexpectedly just days before their marking ceremony. His grief was so profound, it sent shockwaves through the entire Duskrend pack. I spent my youth walking beside him, helping him crawl out of that darkness. And finally, when he was ready to love again, he chose to mark me. In the first two years after he marked me, I got pregnant twice. Both times ended in miscarriage. Ethan, heart aching, told me he couldn't bear to see me suffer through childbirth again. That he didn't want me to endure that kind of pain anymore. But in the third year, I conceived again. On the way to see the pack healer for a routine checkup, I was attacked by a wild beast. My wolf, desperate to protect me, burned through most of her life force holding the creature off. Ethan arrived just in time and carried me to the pack hospital himself. But the healer shook his head. We had lost too much time. The pup couldn't be saved. Worse, my ability to bear pups would be permanently damaged because my wolf was too injured to ever carry life again. My mother clung to me, sobbing. Ethan stood in the corner and smiled. "Joy just can't have pups anymore," he said. "But Sarah—Sarah lost her life because of people like you." Then he looked at my mother, his voice edged with contempt. "You were the one who forced Sarah to abort. You watched her—an Omega without a wolf—scream herself to death. So now, your daughter shall feel that pain too." Five years after severing our mate bond, Ethan had become the most powerful Lycan Chairman the region had ever seen—courted, admired, endlessly celebrated. And me? I was working at an underground club. I was dressed in scraps of fabric, smiling until my cheeks ached, bowing and pouring drinks for whoever walked into the VIP room. There shouldn't have been any reason for our paths to cross again. But Ethan held me tight, eyes red and refusing to let go— “Say it,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Call me your mate.”