Romans & histoires Lip Gallagher

She was getting furious, she couldn't believe her father. "Dad, with all respect and honor, I have to say that this proposal is not about anybody but Jolie. Father, Jolie has drowned herself in condemnation daily all thanks to you! You have done nothing but water down all of her effort to heal. You can't keep on reminding her of her misery, she knows it already. I'm sorry, but I blame you for all what is happening to Julianna right now. It's your fault!" Gwenevere yelled. "Shut up, Gwen!" Philip shouted and rose up to his feet. It was then that Hannah knew she had to intervene. She hurried to Philip and stood in front of him.

Jasper narrows his eyes at me, but decides not to bring up my thoughts. Instead, he says, "I will not stop until this deal is complete." "Do you know anything about Cyprian? Where he may be?" I ask, hating to bring up the name of the man behind the uprising. Cyprian. Young, strong and extremely manipulative. An outsider of the Love Pack born and raised. A rogue now. All these things are a dangerous concoction I don't want my beautiful mate witnessing. Unfortunately, my end of the deal must be upheld.

Chander's sudden interruption brought her back. "Miss Hila, let me help you take care of the other eleven." She didn't feel light headed or drunk anymore. "Why would you help me? You are in no position to gain anything from their deaths and if you are, just shut it and consider yourself lucky that your competition just got lower." She took off the robe and was left covered by a tiny sleeveless navy blue dress that barely covered even half her thighs. The pair of linen dolphin shorts of the same color loosely swayed as she moved towards him.

With a heavy sigh, she took a step closer to Felicia, her eyes brimming with empathy. "Please, Mother," her voice trembling with emotion, "I've heard the rumors about Raphael Gallagher. People say he's achieved everything through brutal means, things we can't even imagine. To a man like this, women and family would never be something he truly value. I can't believe you would watch as father is essentially selling me off, using marriage as a disguise to that... that monster." Lady Amelia's brow furrowed with concern as she considered her daughter's words. "Felicia, rumors can be exaggerated, and we mustn't jump to conclusions based on hearsay." She stated

"You are a disgrace Sunny." "I am not Sunny!" Gabriella ran amok, shrieking repeatedly as she glared at Dario Pavel with devouring eyes. "S. P. Gabriella Khan." "So you are a cop?" Pavel smirked with disbelief. "So I fell in love with an enemy. All this while,I was harboring an enemy in my camp. I even killed one of my loyal men for you." "I never asked you too. I didn't even remember who I was back then." "Serves you right...you got what you deserve from Japheth and i."

Yawning, I closed my laptop and began to open the mail I’d neglected since I’d gone to Vegas. When I opened the envelope without a return address, I should’ve known it wouldn’t be anything good. In strained handwriting, my grandda—or old man Gallagher, as I thought of him—wrote to remind me that Niamh would receive her inheritance as long as we both “took care to keep within the bounds of propriety.” I scowled as I read the letter until I wished I had a fireplace to burn it in. That arsehole. What year did he think it was?

And when the palace realized that the two of us together were the biggest draw, it didn’t take a genius to realize that it would be better if I became the consort to the hereditary princess of Salasia. As for Connor Gallagher, he’d died within three months of the story breaking. We hadn’t heard another word from him since that fateful day at the estate. Niamh, softhearted as she was, had attended the funeral, along with Liam. Neither sibling had shed a tear. “Sorry, sorry, I’m here.” Niamh straightened her tiara. “Is it falling off? I feel like it’s falling off.” I made her stand straight so I could inspect it. “It’s fine. You look beautiful.”

But I was already out of sorts in a country I’d never really known, at a place I hadn’t known existed, and apparently that was enough to render me tongue-tied. Golden Man was peering at me expectantly, a similarly golden eyebrow raised in question. “Who are you, miss?” he said finally. “I’m Niamh Gallagher.” “Neev,” Golden Man repeated. “That’s an interesting name. Yet you sound like an American, yes?” “It’s Irish. I’m Irish-American. And my grandda owns—owned—this place.” I gestured around me. Both of golden man’s eyebrows shot straight up. “Gallagher—of course. You’re his granddaughter? I didn’t know he had a granddaughter.”

“But it’s also not augmented. It’s… prosthetic.” Liana’s jaw dropped. “You mean—fake? Wait… Gill, are you—?” Gill cut in, her voice calm. “Not a man. But yes… I’ve had a mastectomy.” Liana gasped, reaching out to hug her tightly. I stood still, watching the storm of emotion behind Gill’s eyes. A fire that hadn’t dimmed. “I was attacked ten years ago,” she said, voice tight. “Terrorist attack. I was a student in another Pack. Got stabbed—heart injury. Had to lose some… parts. No news reports. They covered it up fast.”

I gulped down the forming lump in my throat, then dared to say, “There is nothing to understand about your land grabbing and vicious killing. What you are doing is wrong, Gallahan, and it will be remembered in history as such.” “Victors tell the stories of the past, Willa. You are boldly declaring to me that your side is going to win.” “Maybe I am.” Gallahan rose to his feet, dropping his chocolate on the bed, uncaring of leaving a stain on the sheets. He then began to pace around, his agitation evident in every step he took. I watched him in silence, trying to get a read of what was running in his mind. But I didn’t have to do it for long.