Movie Nights In White Satin の小説・ストーリー

With the blinds wide open, someone with a high-end camera might capture Matthew in his natural habitat. He paced the room, obviously lost in his own sea of thoughts. The woman was trying to introduce herself and even begged him to stop-----but he didn’t because he couldn’t. He couldn’t even recall her face, primarily because it was dark. He remembers her perfect silhouette against the soft light of the moon and her scent, lavender and berries. He was in heat and all logic and rationale was nonexistent last night. “Sir, are you alright?” “Silas, can you get me a copy of the CCTV footage from 10 to 5 AM?”

Her wedding plan had failed three times, and Olivia hoped that this time it would go well and not fail. A knock on the door made Olivia turn around, and it was Ariana smiling at her. "You're so beautiful," Ariana praised. "Thank you," Olivia replied with an embarrassed smile. "Your prince is waiting there. Let's go out now," Ariana invited. Olivia stepped out gracefully in a luxurious white wedding dress filled with diamonds on the sleeves of the Sabrina style. A thin white cloth covering her beautiful face added to her enigmatic aura. In her hand, she held a bouquet of beautiful and fresh flowers, as if symbolising the happiness they would achieve together. All eyes in the room were glued t

We haven’t been on the best of terms, but maybe this death could bring us together again as siblings. “Who’s that?” I could hear him yell from inside. “I don’t know. I’m gonna check,” came Madison’s voice. Hold on. Madison? What was she doing here? I didn’t think she would be here with Lucas, of all people. Were they having a thing? Madison opened the door, her eyes falling on me. She was wearing sheer nightwear that exposed her nipples and the downside of her abdomen. I averted my gaze, embarrassment filling me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would be here,” I instantly apologized.

She wanted to join the ball with him. “Who’s ready for some lasagna?” Ellen brought a tray of lasagna to the table. Three of them had good food. After wards they watched a film, talked about their old memories and then went to their rooms at last. Dara sat on her bed and took out her dress. She looked at it with the most satisfying eyes. “If Wade was here, he would have loved it. I know he loves the color red.” She put her dress back in the closet and went to sleep.

The morning inside the luxurious hotel suite occupied by Vivian Wheeler was no warmer than the sunlight filtering through the gaps in the silk curtains. The blonde-haired woman sat on the edge of the bed in a loose satin robe, staring at the screen of her personal phone with eyes as cold as ice. Her mind remained firmly fixed on what had happened the previous night at the Smith family mansion.

It was midnight in New York City, the penthouse glowed. The inner circle gathered in the living room for a family dinner. Matteo sat on the floor, trying to teach Sloane how to play an Italian card game called Scopa. Sloane looked skeptical, holding her cards like weapons. "If you cheat, Rinaldi," Sloane warned, "I’m going to pin your hand to the table." "I never cheat," Matteo grinned, dropping a card. "I just win creatively." On the balcony, Dante and Bianca argued. I couldn't hear their words through the glass, but I saw Dante wrap his jacket around Bianca’s shoulders to block the wind. She leaned into him, resting her head on his chest.

"Miss Aria, I apologize for the interruption, but Mr. White is at the door. He's quite insistent on seeing you." Lillian and I exchanged looks of disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me," I muttered. "Is there a full moon tonight or something?" "Miss?" Martha prompted, her usually stoic expression betraying a hint of concern. I squared my shoulders, finding strength in the wine. "Please inform Mr. White that I'm not available. Now or ever." "Very good, Miss." Martha nodded, a small, approving smile playing at her lips before she disappeared back down the hall.

The Moonlit Masque had transformed the manor’s grand outdoor pavilion into a dream of silver moonlight and drifting black lace. Guests wore elegant half-masks and moved between columns wrapped in moonlight silk, the air filled with soft violin music and the scent of night-blooming roses. This was one of the final grand revels before the deepest solstice rites — a night for hidden desires to surface beneath the mask of propriety.