Måneskin Damiano David Mga Nobela at Kwento

"And the paparazzi just happened to be there for your environmental art." "They're always there!" Jordan threw his hands up in exasperation. "It's not my fault I'm so devastatingly handsome and naturally newsworthy. But I did it, Damon. No scandalous headlines. No late-night brawls. No impromptu concerts on the roofs of five-star hotels. Nothing! For thirty whole days!" He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. "I even turned down a reality show!" Damon rolled his eyes, here we go again.

Chaos reigns. The irony? Every single band-member is taken. Off the market. Mike — the guitarist and lead singer — is married with two kids. Chris One, on keys, has a boyfriend. Stephan on drums and Chris Two on bass both have stunning girlfriends with actual personalities. And then there’s Damion. “Damion is my problem,” I finally mutter. My gaze betrays me instantly, sliding right back to him like a magnet — like a delicious double-fudge milkshake, all lean muscle, and easy confidence, I would not mind getting a taste of.

The beats from the music made her remember Damon. She danced harder, screaming again, “Come on! Louder!” She turned too quickly and crashed face-first into a stranger's warm, solid chest. “Shit—sorry!” she gasped, using her hands to balance herself after she hit the stranger. Her waist got caught by strong hands that belonged to a man with big hands and familiar hands. Elena slowly raised her gaze to him. Her heart thudded heavily against her chest. It was him. Damon Voss stood there in the VIP section, looking down at her with dark, burning eyes. His black shirt had the top buttons open, showing smooth, tanned skin and a hint of hard muscle.

Some men loved to do that because they were a bunch of sick rapists. Hazel tried to look away thinking I was not going to approach her but if she thought that, she had another thing coming. “Alonzo,” I greeted. The man looked at me and smiled. His yellow teeth looked disgusting. I almost wanted to knock them out. Why would a rich man like him not invest in veneers? Maybe he enjoyed turning people off. “Markos—” “How much for your date?” I asked. Hazel’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

I stepped back, mortified. He shrugged and reclined on his chair. " I am David Skywalker." " Damian has a twin?!" My eyes popped in disbelief. " No. He is a triplet." A cold voice washed down my core and drove shivers up my spine. It would be hard to miss. Anywhere at all. After that night, I never imagined seeing him any where. Especially not here. I was too ashamed to turn. But with my face disfigured, I doubt he would recognize me. Well, I didn't see his face either. I just have to pretend —

It was war smelling the mate bond. I thought the bond was dead. “You smell like power now,” he growled. “Like storms and the moonlight. What really happened to you?” I stood tall, refusing to hide my body. “I survived. I was what you tried to kill.” Damon’s jaw dropped. For the first time, I felt pain appear right in his eyebrows. “I was wrong, Annie. Cassandra lied to me. I only allowed pride and fear to make me throw away the best thing in my life… my coming Luna.”