Novel & Cerita Lillian Lennon

I can feel the devotion and love radiating from him, and I know that he cherishes them. Before I have a chance to reassure him, I step inside the door and freeze. As soon as I see him, I know that Lily was not bullshitting me. He stands up and faces me. He is tall, taller than me, a lot taller than me. I’m six feet tall and he has to be about 6’7”. His long golden hair is pulled back into a sloppy bun. “A man bun…..really?” I hear Lilly say, but at this point I am totally ignoring her. His thick beard is trimmed short, and I can feel his green eyes taking me in as much as I am taking him in. My breath hitching in my chest I am panting like a dog in heat. Lily comments, “I wouldn’t k

I watch the woman my brothers tell me I loved. The One. That’s what my journal tells me. Lillian Blackwood is my one. The problem is I can’t remember her. Not a single thing. All the descriptions I wrote about her don’t do her justice. Even while I watch her breakdown. While I watch my brother comforts her, over a dog named Benny. She’s still incredibly beautiful. “Are you willing to let that go?” Dylan asks as he watches the commotion in front of us.

Lillian’s POV When I said “I do” in the aisle with my plain white dress and sweet smile, I never thought I'd be preparing a date for my husband and his mistress on our anniversary. Being the first Omega to become a Luna, my life isn’t really a Cinderella-like story that everyone envies me for. I am Lilian Harrington-Edwards, a nobody whose mother is an alcoholic gambler and a father who is out of the picture from the start.

Lillian turned on the spot and vanished. She appeared on the steps number 13 Englewood Drive, a modest two storey building that she called home for the last 10 year. A house which had special charms placed on it that if she did suddenly appear by the front door, none of her neighbours would notice. Keeping a low profile was fundamental even more so now that she had her goddaughter to protect. “Welcome to your new home, Lena”, she said to the infant as she entered the house, the door swinging shut behind her.

—Irina, I'm not understanding you. —It happens that yesterday I tried to communicate with you all day, we had a visit to the vineyard —she reminded him annoyed—You are my best friend and the only one, but I need if you are going to be with me in the preparations for my wedding, otherwise I will accept the help From Saul's sister, my sister-in-law would be delighted to participate in her brother's wedding. — Luciana closed her eyes upon hearing the hurt tone of her friend, she did not want to disappoint her, she had said it well, she was her best friend and her only one.

Luis said to her and led her to his room. Luis turned on his laptop and quickly went into his email. He opened the mail. Sheila Williams, 25 years, caucasian, North Africa, Western Sahara. Luis went through all the other details of the lady. His eyes widened "This can't be," Luis said and Lily looked at him questioningly. "She's been dead for 10 years now. We need to speak with Nora?" he said. "Why?" Lily asked "She is related to Nora," Luis said and Lily gasped.

Thunder rolled across the Santorini skies, a cruel echo to the storm brewing across continents. Inside the stone-walled villa, cloaked in vines and shadows, the woman who had been presumed dead stood tall before a sprawling wall of screens. Each one showed footage, articles, and surveillance of her daughter and Julian Ashford. Lillian Rosenthal. Grace’s mother. A woman once hailed as a media empress and a ghost for the past ten years. Her emerald eyes glimmered as she watched the news of the Ashford-Rosenthal merger, her red nails tapping a rhythm on the desk like war drums.

Dinner dates, corporate events, shopping trips, he indulged her every whim, buying clothes, jewelry, anything she wanted. Lillian documented it all. Every smile, every touch, every indulgence was photographed. She sent the images to Adrian’s wife, each one a calculated reminder of her presence. Yet Elara remained calm. Composed. Unbothered. Each attempt to provoke jealousy or anger was met with silence. Lillian’s frustration grew with every failed attempt to rattle her. One evening, during a lavish dinner, Lillian suddenly doubled over, clutching her lower abdomen. “Lillian?” Adrian’s voice tightened, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

Noah didn't show up, but he did send a huge bouquet of flowers. Doug attended in person to cut the ribbon and didn't miss the chance to remind the business moguls to take good care of me. He had no objections to me starting the studio; in fact, he admired my ambition and courage. Having just returned to the country, I needed time to gather momentum, and he understood that. After the opening ceremony, I cleaned up and retreated to my office to make some coffee. Suddenly, I heard the click of high heels approaching. I looked up and saw Noah's dream girl, Lillian. She was a well-known model in the industry—tall, with strikingly fair skin, and dressed in a sleek, black strap dress that highlight