Mercedes Morr Novels & Stories

Christian nodded and gestured for the driver to drive. Hester scoffed as she watched the car Clarisse entered drive off. Moraine noticed Hester looking at her also and went to stand beside her, " She seems to be well off", Moraine said as soon as she got beside Hester," that car is a lot of money, I'm curious about her", " If you are you can ask her ", Hester said and made to walk away but Moraine grabbed her wrist, "Hey, I know you're also curious about her",

She was so drunk that night, it was her first time drinking and Azria had failed to warn her. She could see it clearly, as if she was watching it. This time instead of focusing on the terrible thing Mr. Anderson had done to her, she noticed that his eyes were cobalt, deep like the sea. They were the same color as Azria's. The exact same,the same storm brewing, the same lighting. Everything was the same, it was actually terrifying.

He is fully clothed and leans against his fancy car. Mercedes takes a dip and leisurely swims in his direction. Like a water goddess, she emerges from the lake, the water dripping from her body like pearls. As she draws the water from her long black locks, Glary holds his breath. The beauty that he sees unfold before his eyes occupy all his senses. He ends the conversation immediately and walks toward Mercedes, who is still unaware of the strong feelings she has aroused in her Alpha's son...

​I stared at him, searching the hard lines of his face for a shadow, a crack, a sliver of the man who had held me on the balcony six months ago and promised that nothing in this world would ever come between us. ​There was nothing there. Only dark, vacant ice. ​A ragged breath tore through my lungs. I pressed the tip of the pen to the paper. The ink felt heavier than lead, soaking into the thick parchment as I dragged my hand across the line. ​Seraphina Cross Vance. ​I dropped the pen. It rolled off the tray and clattered loudly against the linoleum floor. ​The attorney immediately snatched the folder, scanning the signature with a practiced, cynical eye before nodding once toward the inner

My back was turned toward him when I spat maliciously, "Good fucking riddance." Living in hotels indefinitely wasn't a solution, so after two days of lying around in a daze, I rented an apartment in the city center. Land was scarce, and every inch cost a fortune. Even though Sean and I were sworn enemies, financially speaking, he'd never treated me poorly over the years. Not wanting to borrow any money from anyone, I spent his with relish. The night I moved in, I received a call from Jason Kennedy. Without any preamble, he said calmly, "Oran Moore has been found."

And then I saw it, her name, the name that haunted my darkest secrets, Moraa. My fingers had stilled instantly as a sharp, immediate reaction I couldn’t suppress. Because I knew her enough to know what kind of person she was. Moraa was the most entitled, calculated woman I have ever come across, she was used to getting exactly what she wanted and I knew this procedure was just another thing that will give her the kind of life she always wanted. Having Kumba's child would make her a billionaire, just by that and money is the only thing that motivated her,she only cared about fame and money, I should know once upon a time she was my best friend.

“You did the work.” “You made it possible.” I held her gaze and understood that we were both talking about more than the board vote. More than the legal marriage and the biological necessity and everything else we’d constructed around ourselves to make wanting each other feel like strategy instead of feeling. Morana Mortaine. Back from the dead. At a club in the Meatpacking District in a green dress. With Tristan Rothschild. The internet was going to have an extraordinary morning. She leaned back against the leather and sipped her champagne and smiled at me over the rim of the glass like she already knew exactly what tomorrow’s headlines were going to say and she couldn’t care less.

"I will tear your throat out. I will find a way to end you." Morana tilted her head, amused. "Such spirit. It’s a shame you have to die. Your line was always so... passionate. But business before pleasure." She began to pace back and forth in front of me, her bare feet leaving impressions in the moss that instantly filled with black ichor. "I am not a monster, Remy. I am a businesswoman. And I believe in fair trade. I have something you want, and you have something I need." She stopped and looked toward the massive oak tree where Nash had fallen. The black fur of his Dire Wolf form was barely visible in the shadows, a heap of unmoving fur and blood amidst the shattered bark.

I need to remind myself who I’m about to walk into. I open the browser and type his name. Kai Petrova. The first result is a Wikipedia page. I click it. ‘Kai Petrova is an American entrepreneur and designer, founder of Petrova Design Group. In 2020, he was involved in a car accident that resulted in the death of his younger sister, Lily Petrova (14), and left him paralyzed from the waist down. He has since withdrawn from public life.’ There’s a photo at the top. It’s old. From before the accident.

Daisy stood beside her car, the file still clutched tightly in her hand, its weight a tangible reminder of the choice laid before her. Twenty billion dollars, a sum that could rewrite her life's narrative in a single stroke, yet its acquisition tethered to a morally tangled web. 'This is no way Seth Nathaniel would allow me to do this...unless we could use the money to pay off the investors that are threatening to leave MetaX, his late father's company.' Daisy Hunter's thoughts raced as she stepped into her black sedan SUV. "I need to talk to Allison Melody before I even make my decision." Daisy Hunter muttered to herself as she swerved the car towards her home.