Lila Murphy Novels & Stories

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.

Layla said. “All right. Do you just need to confirm that your candidate attended our school?” “Yes, but I have other questions.” “Well, let’s start with the candidate’s name and see if he or she attended the university.” “Lana Murphy.” “Do you know the years she attended?” Layla quickly counted back in her head. “About thirteen – fourteen years ago.” “Hold one moment, please,” she said. “She’s checking,” Layla mouthed to Izabella. “Yes, we did have a student named Lana Renee Murphy, but she didn’t get a degree or certification.”

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.

"Scarlett." ******

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.”

“Yeah. Mind you, it’s not actually that helpful. If I murdered someone and wrote a note in one of these handwritings, it would easily be traced back to me, considering how all of these styles are by people who are connected to me. I can copy Jasper’s handwriting with a sample and a couple of weeks. I’ve got your’s down already Emmet. You doodled on my accounting work.” Lila turned around and left them both at the table, putting the shopping away into the fridges and the cupboards. “Sorry,” Emmet apologised. “Don’t. Please, give me more comics. I want to see Mickey get murdered again,” Lila answered, her eyes glinting with something that Emmet couldn’t quite understand. “Who’s Mickey?” Jasper

But if you are a nymphomaniac like me, go ahead ;) Also guys, for the better understanding of the stories, I’d also like to give you the order in which the books should be read: 1)Nathaniel Lachlan 2)Aaron Riverwood 3)Landon Chambers 4) Emily Warner 5) Danika Williams Danika Williams Everyone in the room stared at me as I smashed the third glass on the ground in anger. I hadn’t had proper food for 2 days. My mom, who was a former Miss Universe, controlled my life since I was a child. Nine years ago, when I was only 18 years old, she wanted me to be Miss Universe too but I was the runner up, which angered my mom, so much so that she didn’t let me eat for 5 days as a punishment.

Chapter 1: Truce Under Storm Clouds The rain fell in soft, persistent sheets over the neutral meeting grounds, turning the ancient stone pavilion into a misty sanctuary. Lila stood on the left side of the gathering, her braided hair damp beneath the hood of her cream sweater, eyes reflecting a quiet sadness that mirrored the cool blue tones of the stormy sky. At twenty-one, she was the younger sister of her pack’s luna, sent as a symbol of fragile peace between two rival wolf clans. But inside, she felt like that reflective young girl in the rain—unsure, pulled by unseen forces, yet sensing a wiser path glowing faintly ahead, like golden hope breaking through clouds.