Lucy Bae Novels & Stories

I said, “but I do have some stiff competition for the fashion show. There’s a girl named Anna who has won for the past two years in a row. She’s a senior this year, and everyone is expecting her to win again.” Lucy shook her head. “You shouldn’t worry about those girls,” she said. “I find it hard to believe any of those spoiled were-bitches have even half the skill and artistic vision that you do.” She pointed to my jacket. “You,” she said, “are insanely talented.” I shook my head, No. Lucy got louder, almost yelling at me. “You are a freaking princess,” she said, smiling. “And you’re a badass. Come on, you’ve got this!”

Bianca stumbled back home in a daze, her mind still reeling. She had barely stepped through the door when her phone buzzed again with a new message from Lucy. This time, it was a video—one she could barely stand to watch. She could hear Lucy's taunting voice. "On your knees. I like it from behind." The rustle of clothing and the unmistakable sounds of bodies entwined filled the audio, echoing in Bianca's ears and making her stomach churn.

She fixed her gaze on me. I took a peek at their group of five. “I am Lucille…. Lucile Damian, and there’s nothing more about me.”

Or the baby is getting fussy with the yelling. Lucy... My daughter's name is Lucy. I've never asked and she's never told me. I never cared until now. I guess I can deal with Lucy. She is half mine anyway. She's got my blond curls... But she's got Becca's blue eyes.

The pale skinned beauty was incredibly passionate and challenged me mentality on so many levels; she was easily the most mature out of my group of girls and tended to look out for the others. Her best friend Lucy was all sorts of Asian beauty. She was an Australian-born Japanese girl who spoke near perfect English, her slight accent was caused from spending most of her early life being home schooled by her parents and only speaking in Japanese. Like her best friend Hayley, my raven-haired lover was slim of build, but taller—only a few inches shorter than myself—but Lucy was all legs. My lover's legs were absolutely perfect. Long and slender and shaped like a master artist had sculpted them a

Her name. Luciana. My thumb hovered before I opened it. A photo filled the screen—an ultrasound. My throat tightened. Beneath it, her words glowed softly in the dim light: Since you didn't go with me earlier, I took a photo of it to show you. Take care of yourself even though you're busy.

“I have nothing to lose.” Lucy didn’t argue. She just nodded and moved to fix my hair, pulling it into soft waves that framed my face. The midnight black dress she’d chosen for me clung to every curve like a second skin, with a slit that ran dangerously high on my thigh. When I stood up, even I barely recognized myself. “You’re so beautiful…” Lucy whispered, stepping back to admire her work. Then, she folded her arms, smug as ever. “Trenton won’t know what hit him.”

Lucy moaned against my lips as we kissed passionately at the fire exit of the building, where Amara’s party was in full swing. It was just eight in the evening. Lucy and I just came back from upstairs after we put our little girl to bed because she fell asleep in my arms. Luciana Aila, or Lily. Our five-year-old daughter. The one we conceived in the underworld. The Underworld Princess of Mischief. My hand landed on Lucy’s ass and I squeezed it hard before I felt a presence behind me, as Lucy did. We immediately untangled ourselves from each other and turned our bodies around, where we saw Amara standing a few feet away, looking at us.

Bailey bowed her head. " Yes, my lady. That girl will be six feet under the surface before anyone knows about it. And I am sure king would care less about her death." The woman hummed gesturing Bailey to get out which she did. Lucy. The strongest and the closest mistress to the king. King had two mistresses but Lucy was considered to be the king's favorite as most of the king's gifts were given to her. But there was one thing Lucy had a disadvantage in. She was too easy to be manipulated.

"Hello, Faith." "Lucy, we're screwed. Mr. Ripley suddenly came to my house looking for Banshee and asked if I was her. Oh my god, are you planning to use me as a scapegoat?" Lucy said, "Not this time. I'm ready to expose my alias." Faith exclaimed, "That's great! I can tell Mr. Jones that I'm not Banshee. Lucy, how are you planning to expose yourself?" Lucy said, "I'll record a video."