Novelas y relatos de Jyu Viole Grace

"Hey.. hey.. you are okay. Come on, wipe those tears." After a moment of silence and caressing her arm for comfort, Kelvin asked, "What is your name, beautiful?" When she finally opened her mouth to speak, she could only mutter six words, "My name is Grace. And I need revenge." _____________ "The cheque is gone, her room is cleared. I figured you would know where she went off to." Vincent asked his brother, his face set in a frown. He had been calling Grace for hours, and even if he hated to admit it; he was mad with worry at that point.

The food got cold, and then I saw her with Joshua, walking under the streetlight. She looked at him with a softness and shine I had never seen. There was the watch on Joshua's wrist, as he bragged about it to her. Shirley would not look at me, but she said, "I gave it to Joshua for his birthday a few days ago. Don't jump to conclusions." Even though I was ready to let go, her words still stung.

He peeked through the crack. There she was. Grace. Sitting on the edge of the bed in that black lace set, phone in hand, reviewing the video she’d just posted. Her cheeks were flushed, nipples still hard against the lace, thighs glistening. She looked freshly fucked and beautiful. Johnny’s hand wrapped around his cock again, stroking slowly as he watched her. The woman who had raised him. The woman he’d jerked off thinking about for years. She was ASlimySlut. Grace sighed, setting the phone down, and stood up to stretch. That’s when Johnny shifted his weight. The floorboard creaked.

Even the camera shutters stopped. Finally, the screen froze on an old file from the Appalachian Women in Business Scholarship Program. Name: Grace Walker. Birthplace: Red Creek, West Virginia. The photo attached was the same young woman outside the church. My grandmother. The real Grace Walker. The comments churned. [So the current Grace Hale is not Grace Walker?] [The letters are right there. He just said he rejected her.] [This isn't cheating. This is identity theft.] Henry pressed his lips into a thin line. His hand gripped the edge of the table. Sweat slid from his temple.

“Sit.” She did. Because if she refused, she’d look afraid. And if she was anything tonight, it wouldn’t be afraid. For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by the murmur of other diners and the soft hum of a violinist near the balcony. Damien leaned forward, eyes never leaving her face. “You came.” Grace forced herself to meet his gaze. “You left me very little choice.” His mouth curved, just slightly. “You always have a choice. You chose me.”

She hastened up and quickly left. “I’m sorry Grace,” Victor said, his gaze piercing hers. “I want you to understand that the girl Jade showed you is just Isabella’s lookalike, it's not Isabella. Isabella is a child born with a silver spoon; she would never work as a waitress,” he said. Grace ignored him, her focus was on her jewelry box, selecting the perfect jewelry to complement her elegant dress. “Grace please,” Victor said, grabbing her wrist, his gaze locked on hers. But Grace's gaze drifted away, avoiding meeting his piercing eyes.

Because she was teaching the violin to students in school, Grace also had a good salary. Yes, grace had been employed in a school to each violin and she was doing pretty well to. To buy this gift, she used the money she earned. Jacklyn opened the box and took a look. It was a pendant, and it’s not an ordinary one. Jacklyn smiled and thanked her, and she instantly carried it over to put it on Ian. The Elizabeth was very satisfied looking at it. Her younger daughter-in-law was much more generous than her son. Mia was not very happy. Wearing this ordinary thing looked bad!

“I’m giving you a second chance to…” “For what, Miller?” Both women turned instantly at the sharp male voice. Kara’s eyes widened at the sight of Jairo. His jaw was set, eyes locked coldly on Grace as he moved to Kara’s side, his presence suddenly making the air heavier. Grace dropped her gaze at once, her confidence quickly draining. “Mr. Vitale… I didn’t realize you…” “Back. Off.” he cut her off, his voice low and dangerous. “I don’t give second chances. Come near anything that belongs to me again… and you disappear before your sender could help you.”

“Just ask Liam." At first Grace didn’t seem to understand what she meant, and Vivienne couldn’t stop herself from smirking with vindictive satisfaction as the Botox-smooth skin around Grace’s mouth went slack with understanding. The woman’s blue eyes flew wide open with indignation, her mouth hanging open in stunned and chagrined silence. Pleased and in a far better mood, Vivienne took the opportunity to spin around on the pointed toes of her heels and exit the painting room, leaving the older woman to stew in her own bitter emotions and ineffectual rage.