Melissa Gordner Novels & Stories

Emily Warner The loud knocking and my cat meowing in my face woke me up. What the damn hell? “Emily Anne Warner, if you don’t open this damned door in a minute, I swear to god I will knock it down with a bulldozer. I am not kidding you. You haven’t replied to any texts or calls in a week. At least before that you answered my texts. I am not going to leave you alone now.” I sat up straight in my bed as I could hear Danika yelling.

Willow Mel, looking as gorgeous as ever, was dressed in a tight red number with mile-high Louboutin's, and she had her blonde hair straightened. If you looked up the word ‘bombshell’ in the dictionary, I’m sure Melissa’s picture would be there. “Mr Grayson,” I say, still feeling formal when I see him, and he chuckles. “Please, we're off the clock. Call me Reid.” He says. “I hope you don't mind me being here. Melissa has just helped me put out wildfires, so I want to thank her with a drink.” He finishes then calls a bartender over.

At first she bought the idea, her lip curving in a smile. At least Laura would see how far she had built herself and her dreams without Derek. Immediately, her brain reconnects the dots. However, she realised she won’t want Laura to see her either. She knew Laura; she was going to find out her reason for being here and would learn about Liam. Melissa gripped her black designer Birkin bag, which she modelled for a big company. It is worth about $20,000. Her legs began moving automatically to the reception. “Hello" She spoke to the receptionist behind the counter

Her lips curved faintly. She didn’t celebrate. She noted. Inside the house, Melissa removed her coat, placed it carefully on the chair, and walked to the window. From here, the world looked manageable. Measurable. Her laptop chimed. An email marked URGENT. From her legal team. Anonymous complaints have been filed against Will.N. Allegations of financial misconduct. We believe this is coordinated. Melissa closed her eyes for a brief second. So it begins. She opened a new folder on her computer and titled it simply:

"Just sometime until I prove to you that I've really changed…. I'll do anything for you to come back to me.” *** Meanwhile, Inside the posh apartment walls of her dressing room, Melissa was seething with rage and humiliation. The stinging redness on her cheek had already faded, but now it was replaced by a calculating mask of evil plotting. She gripped her phone tight and dialed Anna’s number with eager fingers. "Anna, you fool, pick up! I have it," Melissa hissed but her tone soon changed to fake calm the moment the call connected. "I have the key to Elara's destruction."

Probably some guy gave her a fake number in the bar. "I know what it is. But who are you?" She again asks me anxiously. "I am secretary of the President of the Damison Group. My name is Ethan Stone." I reply to her irritatingly, as she is wasting my time. I need to go home and take a lavender bath with my rubber ducks.

"Damien Voss, as I live and breathe." The voice came from behind us – feminine, cultured, dripping with false warmth. I turned, and my blood ran cold. Melissa Voss stood there in a gown of shimmering gold, her blonde hair swept up elegantly, her green eyes fixed on us with predatory interest. She was beautiful in that calculated way that came from expensive procedures and even more expensive stylists. "Melissa." Damien's entire body had gone rigid. "I didn't realise you'd received an invitation." "Darling, I'm on the board of the Hartwell Foundation." Her smile was sharp as glass. "Of course, I received an invitation. Her eyes slid to me. And you must be Elena. We met briefly at Voss Tower,

But i still picked the call anyways. "Hi, please are you by anyways, Miss Selene Woods?" - A feminine voice came from the other end, soft, polite and yet, straight to the point. "Yes, i am she!!. How may i be of help to you?" - I replied in a wary tone. "Great!!. My name is Anne Moreau, i'm a manager at Livelia entertainment and also a friend of the professor." - She introduced herself briefly, her tone filled with strict professionalism. " Oh..." - I gasped.