Lilia Vanrouge Novels & Stories

He looked at the other side of the pavilion and said coldly, “Come out, I know you are there.” A silhouette emerged from the corner and slowly approached the pavilion. It was a very attractive lady. Even though she was in her late thirties, soon to be forty, her appearance betrayed none of her age. She looked like she was twenty-five years old at most. She was Lilia Gibson, one of the directors of Great Sky Group. Her eyes drifted slightly when she saw Zeppelin. “It has been a while, Zeppelin.” Zeppelin, on the other hand, knew right from the beginning that there was a person, who had arrived before him, watching from a distance.

“Look here, Liliana. She’s Hector’s daughter with his second wife. Right now she’s the executive vice president of TGV Perfumes and their chief perfumer. She’s also recognized as the number one socialite in D country. I know her.” “You know Liliana?” “Yes. Seeing her photo reminded me. Back when I competed in Paris, she and I crossed paths. She was easy to talk to, and we got along well. She won runner-up at that competition. Afterward, she even invited me to join TGV Perfumes. Of course, I had no idea at the time that the Jonathan family was connected to Walter.”

Soft scents of perfumes, makeup products scattered on the vanity, dresses lined up on the bed, and assistants moving quietly in the room to add finishing touches to the bride’s look. Lilian walked in after Eve, in a pleated ankle-length rose chiffon dress, with Raniero cuddled up in her arms, his bright eyeballs scouring the environment in innocent oblivion, and his sharp babbles the minute his eyes turned towards his mama. “My baby” Louisa’s voice was a silent whisper, her whole countenance lighting up as she watched them walk in. She stood regal in a fitted Chantilly lace gown that hugged her body in all the right places. The sweetheart neckline sat perfectly on her chest with the hem of t

"Because she never really left. She went underground. Changed names. She might be behind Blackridge Holdings." Lily's chest tightened. A ghost from the past. One powerful enough to manipulate the present. That afternoon, Liam, Adam, and Lily sat in a private conference room. Adam pulled up a digital map on the screen. "We traced the financial flow connected to Blackridge. It leads to a series of accounts registered offshore. But the trail stops cold in Switzerland. That's where things get interesting." He tapped a key, and a profile appeared. A woman with auburn hair, sharp eyes, and a confident smile. Vivian Rousseau, listed as deceased.

The world she dreamed of—money, power, fame—was at her fingertips. “I’ll do anything,” she blurted out, desperate, hungry, shameless. Lilia’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Good. Then you’ll be my eyes, my wing, my tool. Especially when it comes to Avery. I want her destroyed piece by piece, humiliated until nothing remains.” Lily didn’t even think twice before nodding, like a puppet dancing to its master’s strings. Lilia slid three bundles of fresh euros across the table. “For your loyalty.” Then she stood, her guards moving in perfect unison behind her as she left.

Klara sighed walking towards the lilies. The flower bed has all kinds of lilies including her favourite Madonna lilies. Her pseudonym 'White flower' was derived from these, in memory of Julia and her past. Looking at them made her feel refreshed and she kind of missed painting so much. It's been almost a month since she made new painting and didn't know what happened to the one she painted before getting kidnapped.

Ophelia's voice sounds excited and playful. "I'm sorry, we haven't met yet. I'm Liliana, and this is my vaari, Jyrki, he's rough around the edges but a good man." Liliana cuts Jyrki off from grumbling, making Raven giggle as she takes Roan from his arms. "You're the grandfather of the Goddess of Life and Goddess of Death; I knew Adaline, I'm so very sorry for your loss." Ophelia's demeanor completely changes to a pained expression as she bows respectfully.

“Sorry that I didn’t tell you but I didn’t go to Hank’s wedding, at the last moment they said I don’t know the bride wanted a private wedding.” I said and she sat down on the couch staring at Lucas. With his tattoos and stature, he looked like a mafia lord, no one would ever believe he works for the CIA. “Yeah, not the thing I am confused about.” She says as she extends her hand, “I am Danika, you are?” “I am Lucas, I used to work with your boyfriend a few years ago.” He says, completely shifting the subject, also assuring her that if he knows Jake, then he is probably not bad news.

The footage showed: - My slapping Sylvia (angle #72) - The champagne spill (angle #103) - And in the background (angle #119)— Lila being led out a service entrance by a woman in a waiter's uniform, her face obscured but her shoes unmistakable. LoiusVuitton's Pigalle pumps. Sylvia's favorite.

Ella said, “You aren’t just hurting yourself, Cato. You have nine younger siblings and every single one of them looks up to you. Even Lili.” Out of the ten, Lili had the most fire in her soul. Since four years old, she’d been independent and unable to stand being ordered around. She was also smart. Very smart. She knew exactly how to get her way and she never let anyone take advantage. She and Cato fought relentlessly, but although she’d never admit it, she admired Cato. The coffee sat untouched on the table as he stared at the rising steam. “Also yes, Marco noticed his missing joint,” I said, “Did you think that wouldn’t trace back to you?”