Novel & Cerita Meilin X Miriam

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.

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. ”

Max had to find out immediately what Linea was doing to prevent the woman from hurting his soul mate. "Oh, you're home. What about that woman? Did you manage to overcome it?" asked Mirielle as she peered at the preparations through the microscope before her. She did look like a scientist. Unfortunately, Mirielle did not major in science but in art. Max flopped down on Mirielle's bed and folded his legs. He watched his sister, who was still busy with her experiments and medicines. "I don't know how to deal with Linea anymore. You know how Linea is, right? She's so crazy and reckless."

He had been in charge since he and his group saved the people from destruction. "How are we going to fight that thing?" Miriam placed her katana in the sheath and took a few steps forward. She looked like a real hunter, unlike the others. She had worn tight black pants, black boots, a long-sleeved pull neck, and a short-sleeved hoodie. Her beautiful black hair was pulled and tied into a bun. She looked so young that other men in the room could not keep their eyes off her. This included Patrick and Damian.

“Yes… she’s not your—?” “No,” I cut in sharply, not taking my eyes off her. “She’s not.” I turned then, slowly, to face Miriam. She stood a few feet behind me, stiff and silent. Her expression was neutral, but her gaze didn’t meet mine. “Miriam,” I said, my voice deceptively calm. “Did you speak to anyone from Elysian Gowns?” She hesitated just a fraction too long. “I—” she began, eyes finally flicking up to meet mine, then falling again. “I only responded to the letter they sent. It was addressed to you, but you were away when it came, and it seemed urgent. I didn’t think it would cause any issues.”