Iu Dear Name Novels & Stories

I groaned while resting my head on the way to the passage to the living room. As I contemplated on my life, a part of me felt Mr. DickieHead is not as cruel as Alpha Hayes and some of his council members. Yeah! You heard me right his name is Dickiehead, I wonder who will give his child such a terrible name no surprise he still peeps on his pant at an old age.

"Hello there little one, so you want to know my name, do you?" Celeste reached out to pat Chris's cheek. "Yes, please, if it's okay with you?" I could see that Deuce was momentarily surprised. He then leaned into her touch. "My name is Deuce, it is nice to meet you Celeste." "It's nice to meet you, Deuce." She giggled as he nibbled playfully at her hand when she pulled it away from his face. Chris blinked as Deuce receded into his mind. He stood up and playfully tousled her hair. He then motioned for the other man to come near.

Darenn said. "Mom neym of Luno bebi is Yeyntang," he said to Mom. Why does that sound like a Chinese name? Hmm? I massaged my right temple and looked at my baby bump. Don't worry, baby. Your Papa and I will talk about your name again so that you will not get bullied. "Mom, why may neym it Dallen?" Darren asked Mom, and I got curious as well.

She bit her lips, as if realizing something, she shut her mouth immediately. "What's his name?" She widened her arms, facepalming herself. "Oh my Gosh, is it a he? I feel like someone who's damned right now." "You are not damned, Zoey Hart." "You think so?" She stared at him with those amazingly blue eyes, blinking her eyes. "Yeah. I know so, actually, his name is Dex junior." "Dex junior?" Okay, she wanted to laugh so much, roll her head back and make fun of this man, "Nope. We are going with Mr. Spaghetti."

But as for me it only gave me disgusting goosebumps. May l know who is this? Was my reply. Oh forgive my bad behaviors for not introducing myself before. Am Deo. He stated just one name as if he is the only Deo in the world. So Mr. Deo where did you get my number from?l asked almost ragged. He is wasting our time.

It's the first time he said my name from seeing it on my name tag, but this time, not my surname. My heartbeat accelerated, and my cheeks started heating up again...Nervously, I tuck my loosened hair behind my ear. He cocks his head to one side. "Let me ease your lady curiosity, my name is Enrique De Leon!" his thick voice, the thickness of his bass erupts the slut in me. The blood drains from my head. "Er...Mr. De Leon, " I then compiled the questions. "Ain't you like from a rich family?" I questioned because his name sounded rich to my hearing.

She asked me with concerns already itching on her face. “I am perfectly okay and If I may ask, why asking?” “Hearing his name, I hope he didn’t open some wounds, you know you loved him and he is more like your first love..” “That’s hilarious..” She gave me a weird look, “But I didn’t say anything funny..” “I know but to me it is, why will I be sad because I heard his name, sweetheart the lover girl in me died at the hospital, I am reborn and sorry to say this,fuck love…Lisa Fletcher Is gone and the bitch sitting in this car with you is Lisa Graham.”

"Ladies and gentlemen, our next lot is…" I couldn't hear a word the auctioneer was saying. I just stared at her. She felt my gaze and turned her head to look at me. Our eyes met, and a cold smile touched her lips. I stood up and walked toward her. "Blair." "My name is Blair," she admitted. "But I don't know you." Before I could say another word, the auction bell rang. Stephen raised his paddle, throwing out millions like they were candy. "Five million."

“I asked you a question.” “And I heard it,” I say, dropping my bag onto the leather chair that isn’t mine. “I’m late because of breakfast. You know, food? The thing humans eat? Not that your Stone self would understand.” “With Athena and Isabelle?” “Yes. Are you keeping tabs on my stomach now, too?” I scoff. “Or was K busy recording my every chew?” “K?” He asks. “Yes. Kade? K, as I prefer to call him.” I throw myself on the couch knowing Ian is probably glaring as we speak.

Oh dear. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *