روايات وقصص ضمن Hollywood Vip Crossword Clue

Malin Holstin is the daughter of Liam and Angel Holstin and the twin sister of Quinn. She and her sister are the 5th and 6th children born to her parents. After her brother took over as Alpha, her older sister became the acting Luna until Rich found his mate. Malin has led a charmed life, always protected by her father and three older brothers, never needing to take on much of a role in the pack since first Leana, then Emlyn, took the role of Luna. Cohen Forte is the second child and first son of Cara and Rik Forte. He took over as Alpha nearly a year and a half ago. His pack is well established and is flourishing. The only thing he is missing is his Luna. Cohen realizes that Malin is his mate before she’s old enough to feel the pull of the mate bond. He and one of his friends and fellow Alphas, Emerson, realized that they are each mated to one of the twins. While Cohen has been around Guardians all his life, not only his mother and sister, but also having been raised with the neighboring packs who also had Guardian children, it’s very different when you realize that your mate is a Guardian, especially when she’s assigned to your pack right before a war. Malin may inherently know how to fight and protect her mate and pack, but she has no clue how to be a Luna. Cohen couldn’t care less about her lack of knowledge, he’s just thrilled to finally have his mate know that she belongs to him. Can Malin learn what it takes to be a good Luna so that she can be the mate that Cohen deserves and the Luna that this pack desires?

"It's a pity you can't talk," he leaned closer, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down my spine. I pushed him away, my hands trembling with fear. He shifted back almost immediately, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at me like I had done something outrageous. I looked around frantically, trying to communicate with him. But my gaze fell on space, and I realized that I was alone with this stranger in a desolate, unfamiliar room. My eyes scanned the room again, weakly, searching for any clue, any hint of what was going on. But there was nothing. Just as I was starting to feel desperate, his face appeared before me again, making me startle. I jerked back, my heart racing, as he asked, "What are you looking for? Wouldn't you like to know about me?" My fist shook as I gestured to him, trying to convey that I wanted to write, that I needed a paper and pen to communicate. His eyes widened as he stared at me, a look of surprise crossing his face. "You...you're not scared of me?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. ******** Sage, an omega in the Moonstone Pack, is rejected by her best friend and lover on her coronation day. After being accused of cheating on her lover. No matter how she tried to explain she was innocent she wasn't heard. Instead, he banished her out of the pack and decided to go for his real fated mate. But things change for Sage when she is saved by the alpha beast, the one alpha no other pack wants to cross down to his territory. The one alpha everyone calls a Beast.

At the bachelor party the night before the wedding, the truth-or-dare penalty was brutal—show the most hidden photo on your phone. Gina, Peter's so-called "girl bro," lost. She just grinned and cast her screen onto the big TV. A marriage license filled the screen, stamped by the county clerk. Names: Peter Cooke and Gina Draper. Date: yesterday. The room went dead silent. I stared at Peter's drained face. Gina didn't flinch. She patted his shoulder. "Oops. Guess you found out. Joey, don't take it seriously. Just a dumb bet. I wanted to see what the county clerk's office looked like, so I dared Peter to register a marriage with me." She leaned in, eyes on me like I was the joke. "You're still getting your wedding tomorrow. The vows, the ceremony. I just borrowed your fiancé for a stamp. Don't tell me you're jealous of his buddy." Peter jumped up and pulled me in. "Babe, listen. You're the only one in my heart. It was just a joke." He pulled out the diamond ring, dropped to one knee. "I'll file for divorce first thing tomorrow. It won't mess up our noon wedding. Invites are already out. Don't make this a scene in front of my friends. Once we're married, all my money's yours, okay?" I smiled. He had no clue how any of this worked. Didn't even know divorce came with a thirty-day wait. I didn't take the ring. I pulled out my phone and blasted a group text canceling the wedding.

I cradled Chloe’s newborn, filled with joy and affection. The baby was not blood of mine, yet as Chloe’s best friend, I would love and protect the little one with everything I had. "Sweet boy," I whispered, gently tapping the tip of his nose. "I'm your godmother. No one would ever hurt you." The hospital room was washed in golden afternoon light. Adrian stood by the window in a dark overcoat, his profile sharp against the glass. He looked exactly like the man the whole industry knew: controlled, elegant, untouchable. Hollywood's golden producer. My newlywed husband. Then he said, in a voice as flat as if he were discussing a contract, "He's not your godson. He's my son." For a second, I thought I had misheard him. Maybe I was just exhausted from the wedding, from the endless calls and fittings and congratulations. I almost laughed. But Adrian turned around. A cruel little smile curved his lips. "The child is mine," he said again. My arms tightened around the baby. "The night you got hurt," he went on, "I was with Chloe the whole night. We went through an entire box... apparently this little guy still found a way to arrive." I couldn't move. It felt as if ice water had been poured down my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. After a long silence, I finally managed to whisper, "But... we only registered our marriage yesterday." Adrian walked over and put an arm around my shoulders, almost gently. His tone was soft, but it carried the kind of condescension people used with a child throwing a tantrum. "Don't worry. Chloe and I were never going to get married. If I had wanted to marry her, I would have done it years ago." He paused, and something almost pleased flashed in his eyes. "Didn't Chloe ever tell you? We had a history. I was her first."

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.

No meu quinto ano de casamento com o Don de uma poderosa família da máfia, descobri que o amuleto de proteção que ele me deu me causava dores de cabeça sempre que o carrego comigo. Como cirurgiã, isso acendeu um sinal de alerta em mim. Retirei os pequenos sachês que encontrei dentro do amuleto e os levei ao laboratório de toxicologia do Hospital Cursley. O médico examinou o sachê e me disse que ele continha um tipo de veneno de ação lenta que não apenas causava danos ao organismo da vítima, mas também a tornava infértil com o tempo. Chorei e exclamei: — Mas isso é impossível! Foi meu marido quem me deu isso! O nome dele é Vincenzo Cursley. E ele também é o dono deste hospital! O médico me olhou confuso. — Moça, por favor, pare com esse absurdo. Eu conheço o Sr. Cursley e a esposa dele. Eles são muito próximos e unidos. Aliás, a Sra. Cursley deu à luz um menino há pouco tempo. Os dois estão agora na ala VIP, admirando o bebê. Em seguida, o médico me mostrou uma foto no celular. Vincenzo estava usando seu habitual terno preto com o brasão da família Cursley bordado nele. Ele segurava um bebê nos braços, e a mulher ao lado dele... Eu a conhecia. Seu nome era Claudia Henderson. E Vincenzo sempre a chamou de irmã adotiva.

No salão VIP de um cassino clandestino, Maeve, a princesa da família Falcone, havia sido servida com bebida forte em excesso. Movida pelo álcool, alguém a provocou a revelar a coisa mais vergonhosa que ela já tinha feito para conquistar o Don. Ela girou o copo, apontou para mim, distribuindo cartas atrás da mesa, e jogou a cabeça para trás, gargalhando. — Sete anos atrás, quando o Declan estava em coma depois de um tiroteio, eu peguei o celular particular dele. Apaguei a mensagem de socorro que aquela vadia mandou para ele, cada último vestígio, e depois respondi no lugar dele: “Você é um fardo. Vá morrer.” — Vocês nunca vão adivinhar o que aconteceu depois: aquela idiota ficou a noite inteira do lado de fora do esconderijo, debaixo de uma chuva torrencial, como um cachorro de rua. Eu quase morri de tanto rir… O salão explodiu em gargalhadas grosseiras. Apenas o homem entronado na cabeceira da mesa permaneceu em silêncio. O copo de uísque de cristal em sua mão se estilhaçou com um estalo seco. O sangue se misturou ao líquido âmbar, escorrendo pelas veias do dorso da sua mão antes de pingar no carpete. Seus olhos injetados, assassinos, estavam cravados em mim. Com calma, distribuí a última carta fechada à sua frente e ofereci um lenço de seda branco, impecável. — Don Declan, você deveria limpar a mão. Sangue no feltro dá azar. Afinal, algumas manchas nunca saem completamente.

Her eyes widened when his d*ck sprang free from constraint. He glanced down and winced, understanding her surprise. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life. His d*ck strained upward, so long and thick... **************** “What on earth were you doing there tonight Sandra? Do you have any clue what Craig could have done to you? Look, he would have had you bent over while he did unpleasant things to your body. It would have been all about his own pleasure and satisfaction. What were you thinking?” “I know exactly what I was doing, you will never understand".... His eyes widened in shock..... ********* Sandra had loved her late husband with all her heart, and after 5 years of mourning and resignation, she has decided to move on with her life. She has a deep desire and an ache in her which she felt her late husband couldn't give her, no matter how much he loved her and could give her everything as a multi billionaire. Now that he's gone, she begins her search for the one thing her beloved late husband couldn't give her. What she doesn't know is that someone she had considered as a good friend of her husband for many years has a strong feeling for her, and had been waiting patiently for an opportunity to prove it to her. Little did he know that she has a deep desire, a huge void in her, which her late husband was not able to satisfy or fill. Having been in love with her for a long time now, he was determined to go the extra length, to ensure that he will be the only man to fill that void and grant those desires in her. But what if there's a competitor or multiple competitors?

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

Pada tahun kelima pernikahanku dengan bos keluarga mafia yang sangat berkuasa, aku menemukan sesuatu yang aneh. Jimat pelindung yang dia berikan padaku ternyata membuat kepalaku sakit setiap kali aku membawanya bersamaku. Sebagai seorang dokter bedah, hal itu langsung membuatku waspada. Aku mengambil kantong-kantong kecil yang sebelumnya kutemukan di dalam jimat itu, lalu membawanya ke laboratorium toksikologi di Rumah Sakit Sentosa. Dokter itu memeriksa salah satu kantong kecil tersebut, lalu memberitahuku bahwa isinya adalah sejenis racun yang bekerja secara perlahan. Racun itu bukan hanya merusak tubuh korban sedikit demi sedikit, tetapi juga dapat membuat orang tersebut menjadi tidak subur setelah beberapa waktu. Aku menangis sambil berucap dengan nada tak percaya, "Tapi, itu nggak mungkin! Suamiku yang memberikan ini padaku! Namanya Vito Kastoyo. Dia juga pemilik dari rumah sakit ini!" Dokter itu menatapku dengan bingung sebelum menimpali, "Bu, tolong berhenti mengatakan hal yang nggak masuk akal. Aku mengenal Pak Vito dan istrinya kok. Hubungan mereka sangat dekat dan mesra. Selain itu, belum lama ini istrinya baru saja melahirkan seorang bayi laki-laki. Sekarang, mereka berdua sedang berada di ruang VIP untuk melihat bayi mereka." Kemudian, dokter itu menunjukkan sebuah foto di ponselnya kepadaku. Vito mengenakan setelan hitam seperti biasanya dengan lambang Keluarga Kastoyo yang disulam di pakaiannya. Dia sedang menggendong seorang bayi di lengannya. Sementara itu, aku mengenal wanita yang berdiri di samping Vito. Namanya Chika Hutomo. Selama ini, Vito selalu menyebutnya sebagai adik angkatnya.