Lilia Vanrouge Novels & Stories

check it out: @RamataWrites -Rama

Suddenly, Chantelle's eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at Delcan. A smile spread across her face, and she reached up to touch his cheek. "Hi," she said softly. Delcan felt his heart skip a beat. He had never seen her look at him like that before. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said, his voice low and gentle. Chantelle sat up and took his hand in hers. "You didn't," she said. "I was just resting my eyes." She looked down at the outfit she was wearing and blushed. "What do you think?"

Now that she said her piece and drew the line, she turned to leave. "Wait, please-" his arm hurriedly grabbed her wrist, twitching like he was scared of hurting her. His grab caused the sleeve of her dress to roll up a little, he stared at her wrist, a surprised glint lingering in his eyes as she jerked away from his touch. "That mark..." He said, suddenly uncuffing his shirt and rolling off the sleeve, he outstretched his right arm next to hers, "it's the same as mine." Maria has had that birthmark since forever and she was convinced she was born with it, it looked like a faint tattoo of a fiery sun and has faded even more as she grew older. Why then did he have the same one on his wrist at

Jamira said if she knew how, she’d tell me, but heaven was not her domain. We enter Trasion easily. There was no fee to enter or live there other than you had to be a winemaker. My father was known well for his wine. Even though it was a small shop, dad’s wine was rare and delicious. He was offered his own factory many times, but he knew if he started a factory, he wouldn’t have time for his family. I told the duke of the town that I was his granddaughter. I kept my fathers last name; Celestia, and changed my first name to Lila. As far as anyone knew I was layla’s daughter. I willed everything to myself. If anyone asked where my mother was, I would say she died at the age of 44. 44 years old

Meanwhile, Jelena Savage was facing a challenge in her office. On her desk was a letter and painted on the letter was the lifelike image of a beautiful white lily. This was the presence of Primal, the white Lily represented unblemished Al. The claim of Primal was to restore the Al race to what they originally were. It was popularly known among humans and Al that Primal had caused the Crisis but the Coalition Administration and leaders of the Human Alliance knew better.

Meanwhile everybody in the city Kew about Orange Pavilion very well, since the pavilion alone stood around the vicinity, it is surprising to see ambulance heading towards the direction, thus immediately the media and news had taken it up immediately, they all drove after the Ambulance just to captured the moment, they wanted to broadcast the hot cake news to the world through their channel. Linda was not just the second wife to Alexis Father who was the richest man in the whole federation before his death. Linda was actually an actress, she stared in many popular movie, just that her career was dawdling at some stage, thus she needed a money bag, fate produced Alexis father as substitute. It

JJ shows Daniel into my mother’s sitting room. “Hi Mr Fields, please call me Lily.” I narrow my eyes at JJ who blushes. I should really take what I can get, at least Lillian is not, Miss Blackwood. I shake Daniel’s outreached hand. “I wouldn’t be comfortable with Lily; may I call you Miss Blackwood?” he asks politely “No, you may not” his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Okay. Lily.” I smile. “This is Lucas Craven.” “Mr Craven is fine.” I narrow my eyes and roll my eyes at Luke. Men! JJ starts to leave.

She has broken two of her coffee mugs over the smallest argument, she almost fired someone for bringing the ‘wrong’ brown coloured belt and she hasn’t spared me a look all morning. I knew why she was ignoring me, I wasn’t stupid. She was the kind of woman who has never been vulnerable in front of someone, she was always in power. Yesterday night makes her feel ashamed and mortified so she is trying to show me that she doesn’t even care who I am and doesn’t even know that I exist.

Aurora paused, looking Vanessa up and down with a cool, Parisian detachment, "...wearing gold." Vanessa blinked. It wasn't the response she expected. She expected deference. Or confusion. "Vanessa Leigh," she said, her smile tight. "Vice President of Cross Empire Fashion. And Liam’s... right hand." She emphasized the title. VP. She had climbed the ladder over Aurora’s corpse. "Charmed," Aurora said. She didn't offer her hand. "Ariane Rousseau." "I know who you are," Vanessa said, taking a step closer. "We've been reading about you all week. The 'angry' designer. The woman who hates color."

As I stood in the foyer, the scent of expensive lilies and stale gin hit me, a fragrance that had become Lilian’s signature over the last forty-eight hours. She was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, a robe draped over her shoulders, looking out at the skyline as if she still owned it. When she turned, her face was a mask of grief. The swelling from the hallway fight had gone down, but the bruising was still there, hidden under a thick layer of concealer. "Luca," she breathed, reaching out her hands. "Thank God. You’re the only one who hasn't abandoned me to that... that animal."