Miriam Sharpe Mga Nobela at Kwento

She was a puzzle that couldn’t be solved with brute force or charm alone. Miriam finally walked in, her sharp heels clicking against the tile floor. Her eyes scanned the café before landing on me, her expression guarded as always. She wore her typical look of cool detachment, but I knew better. Beneath that icy exterior, she was desperate. She wanted Spencer, and that made her useful to me. “Miriam,” I greeted, standing up and gesturing for her to sit. She slid into the seat across from me, crossing her legs as if she wasn’t in a hurry. But I could feel the tension in the air. The desperation.

I wasn't careful and did as the girl said. The door was near me, so I quickly entered the training yard and went to the girl talking to me just now. She introduced herself to me as she walked, "I'm Mira." "I'm Sharmaine; nice to meet you." I'm friendly. "Sharmaine? Are you Sir Darian's wife?" Mira was surprised. I don't know if I felt it wrong, but Mira's attitude seemed less surprising than what she showed. I have been accustomed to observing other people's faces since childhood so that no expression can escape my eyes.

MARIA'S POV I'd say Old Grandpa was the only one who was genuinely happy to see me. The rest of the people at the party had just been there as a formality. I can't blame them, I would be mad too if I had received an invitation out of the blue. But maybe I shouldn't complain. This party was for me after all, was it not? Maria Rodriguez. My name. The name that sent shivers down men's spine in my world.

Emily Warner, the crazy and happy go lucky side-chick in all of the stories. She is happy that all of her friends met the man of their dreams but she hasn’t. She has never met a man who even remotely loved her. As a kid, she always hoped for a crazy life story like beauty and the beast or toy story or finding nemo. But she worked at a nine to five job, at the age of twenty nine, she was single, while all of her friends were either getting married or pregnant. And there she was sitting in front of the television, eating chips out of her hair.

"What does Miriam have to do with it?" The question hung in the stale air between us, a puzzle piece that didn't seem to fit. Miriam. The name itself was a bitter taste in my mouth, a reminder of the kind of life I had left behind. She was the princess, the society darling who had always seen me as her rival for Ethan's attention. Even before I had infiltrated his life as "Norah," Miriam had been a constant, buzzing mosquito in the background, her jealousy a sharp, pointed thing. The idea of her being involved in something so brutal, so... street, was hard to wrap my head around.

Like I had been given more than I deserved and I knew it and I was going to spend every day making sure I earned it. Old Miriam found me before I had taken ten steps into the crowd. She pressed a honey roll into both of my hands without asking and told me I was wasting away. I was not wasting away. Miriam told every woman in the pack that they were wasting away regardless of what they actually looked like. It was how she showed love. I ate both rolls.

Yet, as Elara would soon discover, that void was about to be filled in a way she had never expected. Later that evening, as Elara was closing up the gallery, the familiar sound of footsteps approached from behind. She turned to see Miriam, one of her most devoted patrons, walking in with a soft smile. Miriam had been a constant presence in Elara’s life for the past few years. She was an older woman, in her mid-sixties, with a kind face and a warmth that radiated from her like sunshine. Elara had always admired her for her wisdom and the gentle way she seemed to navigate the world. Miriam had become more than just a patron—she had become a friend.

Maria couldn't hide her excitement, this atmosphere was one she had always wanted to experience, and nothing could beat the joy she felt right now. "He- Good day, I'm Maria, Jackson's PA," she introduced herself with a polite smile and an outstretched arm. Her handshake was ignored but she got something even more amazing in return. Natasha pulled her into a big, warm hug and Maria almost died of affection that instant. She had just hugged Natasha Shaw, the all-time favorite American actress, she'd never wash this sweet smell off her body. "I'm a big fan of your work," Maria continued and watched Natasha's face lit up, "for a long time now," she included and it earned her a squeal from Natash

“No, that’s n‌o⁠t…‌ we have‍ time. You sai​d—” “We need‌ t⁠o find a way to stop it⁠,” Miria​m‍ said. Her‌ voice was ur‌g​ent now.⁠ Sharp⁠. “Fast.” “How fast?” Miriam looked at me. Really look‌ed. Like she was‍ memori‌z⁠ing my f‌ace. “Bef​ore th‌ere’s nothing left of you t​o save.“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​