Lady Tamayo Novels & Stories

It was as opulent as she'd expected and suited for the future Luna of the number one and most powerful pack, her. As the maid of the castle was leaving, Daphne asked her to call her own maid, Tamara. The moment Tamara entered the room and closed the door behind her, she received a hit in her face from Daphne.

Above all the Spanish knew hospitality at its best. Tamara did not need a mirror because she knew and was hundred percent aware of her stunning looks. She did not wait for people to compliment her, she lured them to do so and proved herself irresistible and charming. It was not the multitude of charming words that she needed, but rather the esteem she gained from them. She embraced class in whatever she did including in her social outings. She prided herself as being possessed by a demon of fantasy, full of voracious appetite for new sceneries.

“You need to run, Luna. You need to hold on to him and run.” I heard her say as she encouraged her. Marissa, Tatiana, pushed her toward the window. I watched, paralyzed, as Evelyn leapt through it with Damon in her arms. Then the fire surged. I saw my Tatiana’s hands pressed against the glass, skin blistering, eyes locked on mine. And then… The floor gave way. Her body vanished into the flame. And all I had left was the sound of my men shouting, and the last memory of her eyes, filled not with fear, but with peace.

Because he was a gentleman and a gentleman would walk a lady to the door. “I’m not a lady,” I had said without thinking. I expected him to laugh and say he couldn’t agree more, but he did the total opposite of that. Xander had looked me in the eye with the softest expression, filled with so many emotions that I couldn’t name. “You’re right, you’re not a lady, Adriana. You’re so much more than that.” For the safety of my heart, which halted in that moment. I had looked away from his bewitching dark eyes, breaking whatever spell he was trying to put me under.

“Yeah, we don’t want to mess with her, dude.” “What’s your name?” asked Carson all of a sudden. “T-Thea Whitlock,” I replied with a trembling voice. “Thea Whitlock, I’ll make sure I’ll tell you when I return it. Okay?” After I slapped away his hand earlier, Carson tried to give another hand to shake. I reluctantly shook it, only for me to have another memory of the little boy wrapping his handkerchief around my wounded leg. “Thank you so much, Thea,” Carson smiled before leaving with the box—and that just confirmed it.

I said to him with a look of playful disappointment. "I love my job," he said and looked up to check the surroundings. My eyes fell on the waiters that held trays of champagne and wine. "I want one," I said to Igor. He nodded and flagged down one of the waiters. I happily took a glass of champagne and thanked the waiter before downing it and returning the empty glass. "Igor!" A beautiful woman approached us. She was slim but healthy slim not Victoria secret slim. She was dressed in a gold sequin dress that stopped at her knees and accentuated her figures. The dress matched her eyes that held sparks of gold and complimented and light brown hair.

He lifted his gaze and saw that the golden light that he had been fighting moments ago had already morphed into a graceful woman, dressed in a gorgeous golden robe. She had crystal-clear eyes and rosy lips, radiating with an elegant and breathtaking aura. Faced with James’ scrutiny, the lady said coldly, “Do you not fear being wiped out?” “With your strength?” James scoffed. “You’re the one who killed Yaquis? And what about Ysander?” asked the mysterious lady. “Who’s that?” James countered. “The Tai Chi Messenger stationed in the New Alliance,” the lady clarified. “Are you Xabat?” James locked eyes with her.

His dark eyes gleamed with something unreadable as he scanned the crowd. Tamara stood beside him, radiant in a blood-red gown that clung to her curves, her golden-brown hair swept elegantly to one side. She looked powerful, untouchable—the perfect queen to stand beside a king like Lorenzo. "A toast," Lorenzo announced, raising his glass high. "To my wife—my heart, my greatest strength, and the most dangerous woman I know." His lips curled into a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Tamara, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’ve challenged me, kept me in check, and reminded me that even the devil himself is not immune to love."

Elena corrected as she took the glass from his outstretched hands with unspoken gratitude shining in her eyes. “Tamara?” Marco asked in confusion. “Tamara Carabali. That’s my name. Elena Sanchez Windsor is dead and I’m going to make her demons pay,” Tamara replied as a wide smile spread across her lips.

Victor asked. “Definitely”! She replied with a huge and manic grin. “What did you say your name was again”? Victor asked. “Tamara sir,” she replied with a slight bow. “Was wondering when someone was going to ask that”. She added with a happy smile. “Okay Tamara”. Victor said. “It'll be really great if you were the one that told Cabrera what she's going through”. “No problem,” Tamara replied before turning to face Cabrera. “How are you feeling Cabrera”? She asked.