Meilin X Miriam Mga Nobela at Kwento

She had only been able to get off them after she met Adrian. Mira groaned.......not Adrian again. She picked up her lip liner, and paused at a message notification from Rina. "Bitchhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" The message read, closely followed by a voice note. Mira smiled, it was probably just the usual "Rina Miller's episode". But then a link followed. Mira curiously set down the lip liner and picked up her phone. Her hand shook as she stared at the title on her screen.... "Mira Bennett's MOTHER speaks out". Her throat tightened as she clicked on it.

LEON'S POV We arranged a phone call with Miriam two days later, both of us crowded around the speakerphone at the kitchen table, Patricia joining remotely to make sure the conversation stayed appropriately careful. "I want to start by saying I'm not trying to threaten either of you," Miriam said, her voice warm but measured, carrying the particular steadiness of someone accustomed to sitting with difficult, complicated truths. "I volunteer with this program because I believe people can genuinely change, given the right support. But I also believe in being honest, even when honesty is uncomfortable."

In her hand, a delicate crystal wine glass trembled, the rich red liquid sloshing precariously against the rim. Her personal assistant, Grace, stood a few feet away, her head bowed so low her chin almost touched her chest. Grace knew better than to make eye contact with Miriam when she was like this. To meet her mistress’s gaze in a moment of fury was to invite a punishment far worse than a simple firing. Grace was more than just a personal assistant; she was a partner in crime, a sister in lies, and the keeper of Miriam’s darkest secrets. “I… I don't know, ma’am,” Grace stammered, her voice a tiny, frightened whisper. “I have been trying every avenue… but she’s like a ghost.”

Mira. Feisty. Relentless. Unwilling to let me in. She stood out even among the other women at the firm. I’d met plenty of smart, beautiful women who’d bend over backwards for my attention—but Mira wasn’t one of them. She was different. I’d read her file—twenty-three, already surpassing her peers. Determination, elegance, intelligence. Add beauty, and she rose far above Gigs’ league.

THIRD PERSON'S POV:- Mira opened her eyes and found herself standing in front of the full view mirror. She was looking at herself. She looked very young. She looked almost sixteen or maybe seventeen. She was wearing a long mermaid style, off shoulder white dress. It was backless and the upper layer of the dress was shimmery. She had a crown on her head. A princess crown that had the long lace veil attached with it. She remembered that crown on her head. It was the crown Fredrick had gifted her on her twelfth birthday. He wanted to make her feel like a princess the day they would get married.

I automatically smiled back. I don't know how long I stood there or how long I was staring at her but suddenly I felt someone's hand snap in from of my eyes. I quickly came down from la- la land and was back to reality. It was Monica that snapped her finger. Makaila was already in front of me, smiling. Rita was in Nigel's hands as Christine took several shots of them. My attention was fully on the beauty before me. "Hey." She said, smiling shyly.

♡ Mia X * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the quietude of his room, with the soft hum of the night outside, Asher lay there, his tired body seeking reprieve, while his restless mind continued to navigate the labyrinth of emotions that Ezra's presence had stirred within him. On the other side of the night, in the quiet solitude of her room, Ezra sat in front of her mirror, eyes fixed on her reflection. Droplets of water trickled down from her long hair, evidence of the refreshing shower she had just taken. As she stared into her own eyes, a flood of memories from the reunion surged through her.

|| Mira || She pulled back slowly, her smile getting wider as she looked me over. Tangled hair, chains, dried blood on my wrists. She was doing that thing people do when they've already made up their mind about something and are just looking for proof. "So this is Mirabel Sloan." "In the flesh," I said. "All of it." A smile spread across her face. "You're smaller than I expected." I smiled right back. "And you're exactly as insecure as I figured. Kissing someone in front of his captive just to feel like you won something. Bold choice."

“ Bonjour. ” While the men conversed, Mira found herself unable to take her eyes off His wife. “ Hello, I am Malisa Evans. ” The lady who noticed herself introduced with a smile. “ Hi, I am Miranda Edison. ” “ Oh. ” she acknowledged with a smile. “ You are an African right? ” Mira couldn't help but ask, staring at her brown skin with a smile. “ Yeah. ” she smiled again. “ I love your skin. You are beautiful. ” Miranda couldn't hide her admiration. “ Awn. Thanks. I love yours too. ”