Novel & Cerita Nakita Johnson

It was almost 1:00 am when she'd washed up. She got into bed and turned on her phone to reply to some texts. She then scrolled through her social media, dutifully liking Hannah's funny moments on set and Isabel's aesthetic photos. After that, she refreshed her news feed, only for Natalie's post to come into view. It was a photo of the latter shaking hands with another famous floral designer in the industry. The caption read, "Shout-out to Mr. Sinclair for pulling the strings! It's my honor to collaborate with Blake Johannson!"

"Uhm, can I have your ticket?" Kane raised a brow, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "Ticket?" he repeated, his voice deep, teasing. The redhead—Mona, according to her name tag—bit down on her plump lower lip, her gaze darting everywhere except at him. "Sorry, it's just... you look familiar." That made him chuckle. Oh, really? He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering to the large poster plastered beside her booth—a giant picture of himself, fists raised, the underground champion.

I felt anger bubble inside me. “Look at me!” I snapped. His eyes shot up to mine. “Do you know who I am?” I asked. He nodded. “Tell me.” “You’re Leah Garrison.” “Yes, I am. And you did this to me.” I held out my wrists and then lifted my jumper to show my healing wound. His eyes fell to my stomach and then back to his chained wrists. When he lifted his gaze again, his eyes were filled with sorrow. “I am so sorry; we did this to you.”

She takes her lovingly. "She's jolly," Grace concludes, playing with her and grinning at her. She is holding her tiny hands. "Yeah, she is," I say. Nick joins us the very next moment and hands me the glass of orange juice. "Have it," he says, still holding the glass in front of me. I accept it. I start taking small sips when Nick suddenly touches my feet, pulling them out of the heels and saying, "I have told you multiple times to remove them as soon as they aren't needed. It hurts you," he adds in the end, gazing at me softly.

she inquired tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper. Donovan's gaze shifted to the girl, his expression remaining impassive. "I am Donovan Garrett," he replied simply. "President of the Student Union Government, Wilberforce Island University. And Boma is my wife." The serving personnel exchanged puzzled glances, sure of the significance of the title. But they had always assumed Boma's husband, if she had one, would be someone unassuming, like her. As far as they were concerned, she wasn't important. She was there partaking in the punishments just like everyone else. It would be safe to even assume she might be among the poorest staff, the way she acted like her whole life depended on

"And now, for our final nominee...after rigorous deliberation by the committee. The winner of this year's best actress and queen of the entertainment industry is......" I snapped out of it, rushing towards the sofa with a soft thump. I fixated my gaze on the screen, afraid that it would all be over if i blinked . "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome on stage....Miss Irina Williams!!." - The hostess announced. The crowd cheered, applause ringing as i watched Irina walk up the aisle , a soft smile adorned on her soft features as she waved her hands gracefully. Her off- shouldered, red sequel dress sparkled under the lights. She looked absolutely stunning as the crowd adored her.

JACKIE. My office was painted black, just the way I liked it. I was working on a new sketch for the fall designs when Nora walked in with a pink tablet that contrasted with the black in my office. “Boss,” she began, clicking on her Apple tablet. “I have tracked her. The girl, Normani. People are already following her everywhere. She is making headlines, and everyone wants to meet her. She is the princess of Scotland after all, everyone would want to meet her.” She rolled her voluminous lashes.

A year after Catherine’s death... I stood in my bar watching the woman dancing in front of me. She was an attractive brunette with curves and a killer ass. I took a drink of my whiskey and kept my eyes on her. I was waiting for my second in command, Jacob, to meet me so we could discuss the problem that needed to be dealt with. The woman walked up to me and pushed her body against mine as she whispered in my ear. “Do you want to go have some fun sexy?” I pushed her off of me.

Katrina I am Katrina Jones, 24 years of age. I am an independent woman. I started living on my own when my parents died two years ago. They died in an accident. I am living in my small apartment here in New York. I am in need of money to sustain my needs. Recently, I resigned to my job to apply as a personal assistant in Smith Enterprise. I will be having my interview tomorrow. Hopefully, I will get the job. **************

I forced down the corners of my lips, resisting the urge to smirk. “How dare you treat my daughter like that!” my dad roared. My parents’ presence kicked the roiling atmosphere into an even higher gear. “I know that man! He’s Mr. Smith, an uber-wealthy icon in the financial world!” “That woman next to him is Lydia Cane, the famous violinist!” “And that ridiculously handsome young man is Shane Johnson!” “Whoa, Jonas’ ex is a huge deal!”