Lila Murphy Novels & Stories

“That’s without a doubt. Xyla barely has any knowledge in the field. How could she defeat Emily?” “Earlier, I heard the president telling his subordinate that Emily’s work once received praise from Lily.” “Who is Lily?” “Don’t you know who she is? She’s the up and coming superstar in the world of architectural design. She’s a genius at designing. Her masterpieces have garnered a lot of attention overseas, but she’s awfully mysterious. To this day, nobody knows what she looks like.” When Emily and May heard what everyone was saying, they became increasingly excited. Xyla was also able to hear what these people were saying, but she didn’t care. Instead, she silently walked in front of the proj

"Hello Clara, it has been a while" No one noticed how forced her smile was. "Lily....it's nice to see you as well" Lily scoffed and looked away, so what if she could walk now? she still hated her! she couldn't wait till when they were both alone. Then she can beat the living daylights out of her! Lily smirked just thinking of how swollen Anna's face would be..... 3 hours later, the person who ended up with a swollen face was of course, Lily.

The offices of Sterling & Associates were high above the city, where the air felt thinner and everything looked like money. Lila stood in the lobby, smoothing down her tight black skirt. She was twenty-one, a college senior with a heart full of ambition and a body that was starting to feel like a cage. She had landed the most wanted internship in the city, but she wasn't thinking about law books or filing papers. She was thinking about Mr. Sterling.

“Yeah… amazing.” Under the table, Marcus’s foot brushed against my calf slow, deliberate. I jolted, nearly spilling my coffee. His expression remained calm, polite, as if he weren’t secretly touching me while my mother planned their wedding. “Tell me about yourself, Lila,” Marcus said smoothly, voice deep and authoritative. The same voice that had commanded me to come for him last night. “Your mom says you’re in college. What are you studying?” “Communications,” I muttered, trying to ignore the way his foot slid higher, tracing the sensitive skin behind my knee. “I want to work in marketing or PR someday.”

Like she would have a choice if I were actually named Aria. “Zara,” this time, it's Murphy who calls. “What?” I'd zoned out. “Forget it. You're of no use to me,” Celia says, walking to the living room while shouting Lila’s name. “Lila, baby.” “Oh come on. She's always playing dirty,” Murphy says in a defeated tone knowing whatever Lila says is what we'll be having for breakfast. And knowing Celia, she's going to convince Lila to pick what she wants.

He caught my eye and gave the barest nod. All clear. For now. It happened between one breath and the next. Lila stood on the small dais near her centerpiece, a massive canvas titled “The Light After.” A swirling storm of blacks and grays giving way to radiant gold. Her voice, usually so shy in crowds, rang clear as she explained her inspiration. “Sometimes the dark is really just… waiting for you to be brave enough to turn on the light.” The applause was just starting when the first window shattered. I didn’t hear the gunshot, not at first. Just the explosion of glass, the screams, the sudden chaos as bodies hit the floor.

Humiliation surged through me like a tidal wave, nearly drowning me. But I whispered to myself, Seraphina, just a little longer. Just let them take the damn pictures. Just survive. Then you can get Elara to the hospital. Snap. Snap. Snap. Lila took hundreds of photos, clicking without pause, as if she were capturing a performance. One of the men ran a hand slowly across my back, fingertips cold and filthy. I stiffened. “Got enough?” he muttered. Lila didn’t answer. Just stared, amused, and full of poison.

She reached for her hand mirror and called for Margarette. “How are you? Did you get the dusts?” “Margarette, we need to talk. I want the truth. I want the whole story of Lenriad. Also, I have to tell you another thing.” Ellaine opened the leaf and stared at the beautiful face of a sleeping angel with golden hair.

Camila I stared at the mirror unsure if the person I was looking at was me. My long black was braided a tone side and left to rest on the other side of my shoulder, my brown eyes were bright yet had a sad gleam to them. I wore a long handless black gown that had a long slit, up to my knee. I applied some lipstick and paired my outfit with a silver pair of high heels.

Close enough that she had to tilt her head back slightly. “Name,” he said. “Lila Moreau.” “Age.” “Twenty-three.” “Organization.” “International Aid Coalition. I’m a field medic.” He studied her face for a long moment. His eyes were dark, intense, but not cruel. Not yet. “You were treating a child,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “Yes.” “At night. Past curfew.” She nodded. “He had shrapnel in his leg. If I left, he would have lost it. Or worse.”