Novel & Cerita Matilda Anna Ingrid Lutz

I walked to the driver and smiled. “Caren Inc please” I slipped into the car and he drove off. Caren Inc was a large office building, it wasn’t so popular but I already felt a homy feeling around it. I stepped out of the car and walked into the building. I headed straight for the receptionist, a tall blonde woman with huge spectacles. Her tag said Mrs. Helen Mayer. “hey, I’m Camila Santiago and I applied for a job here” she glanced through some files and smiles.

Melissa what are you doing in there, I heard the princess Luciana calling out to me and I immediately swam out of the room. "Am sorry my princess I'm just arranging the room" I said to her and she rolled her eyes sitting down and ordering me to fix her hair. My name is Melissa and I'm a blued tail mermaid slave. I work in the palace as the princess Luciana's maid. I was taken in as a palace slave when my mother committed a crime. She fell in love with a human and got pregnant for the human an act which is a crime in Atlantica.

Not now at least. They were already back home and Emilia was impatiently waiting for Liam to return. She needed to renegotiate with him. Now that the company belonged to him, she needed to know who was managing it. Seeing as he was off work. She needed to be assured that Peyton Incorporation wasn’t suffering although she knew that Liam was an expert in the business world. Lucia was out with her husband, Richard for a hospital check up. According to what Liam said, she had less than three months left but from what Emilia was seeing, Lucia looked healthy, maybe a bit pale but she certainly did not look like she had just three months to live.

Ingrid snapped, "Who else would I be talking to? Is there a third person here? Stop acting clueless. I'm exhausted, so come give me a massage." Lilian frowned. "Ms. York, you're pregnant. You shouldn't be getting just any massage." "Oh, you're just too lazy to help me, right?" Ingrid argued. "No, that's not what I mean. I'm just a certified maternity care specialist. So, I know what's safe for pregnant women and what isn't." When Ingrid heard "certified specialist", she flared up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "Just give me the massage and stop making excuses.

Nina placed an image in my head of that same rough, sandpapery hand, the one I had touched to activate this bond on the dance floor making a similar sound on my rear. It was so visual I could almost feel the burn on my skin as my own wolf turned betrayer. Nina is so set on pairing with Tange’s wolf as soon as possible. “Tell me about yourself then, I only know your name and that you’ve just turned eighteen.” From my curled up position on the floor I weighed up his offer. There didn’t seem to be any danger in filling him in on who I am. It was a fair enough question. “Okay, well I am Matilda, I’m the eldest of five sisters. I’ve got triplets Leona, Naomi and Eleanor and the youngest is Phoebe

Lena's POV. “Hello, ma'am,” the doctor waved his left hand, and felt my pulse with his right hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?” “Can I get a name? Can you speak?” He continued, not even giving me a chance to think or respond. He suddenly stopped and pointed a little fluorescent light in my eyes. I squinted and groaned inaudibly from lying stiff for far too long. “Four, My name is Lena, and I think I can… talk,” I replied in a second, gulping as the man behind him moved closer and fixed his gaze on me.

Her gaze met Lusi’s—briefly, but long enough to tighten her chest. “Aunt Matilda,” Lusi greeted politely with a sweet smile. “Agnes talks about you all the time.” Matilda smiled back, studying her more closely. “You look familiar.” Agnes laughed softly. “Lusi’s a model, Aunt. You’ve probably seen her in magazines or on social media.” “That explains it,” Matilda said, nodding. She then turned to Anna. “Agnes, this is Anna—my daughter.” Lusi immediately extended her hand. “We actually know each other,” she said lightly, though something unreadable lingered beneath her tone. “We’re quite close, aren’t we, Anna?”

Thirty years married to Ingrid, a writer who hosts a book club on Thursdays where everyone drinks too much wine. One son. Martyn. Twenty-seven. He works in the City doing something incomprehensible with other people's money. "Fund management," he calls it. I call it legal theft. I'd never cheated before Anna. Never had the urge, really. Ingrid and I had good years. Then adequate years. Then years that just... existed. Efficient. Enough to pretend we weren't just flatmates who occasionally shared a bed. Then Martyn brought her home one weekend. Anna wasn't beautiful in that obvious way. Not a silly blonde with fake tits. She was striking. American. A PhD student studying English literature at

She came over to where I was sitting and sat at the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for my response. I sighed and stared hard at the ceiling before I closed my eyes. "Because..." "...I don't have dignity anymore." "I...don't have a face to show." * * * * "Whoooooooo!" Clap! Clap! Clap! "Yeah!" "You're beautiful, Magda!" People kept on shouting here and then in the entertainment club as I danced on the stage. My name in the club was Magda. I didn't use my real name here just to hide my identity even if my neighbors already knew what kind of woman I was.