Naomi Novels Novels & Stories

Every step I take exuding a quiet confidence that commands attention. Peeta opens the door for me as I step in and the room is filled with the Japanese, their gazes fixed on me as I enter. I take a moment to soak in the atmosphere as I gracefully take my seat at the table, my eyes scanning the room, meeting each gaze with a calm yet knowing look. I smile to myself, confident that whatever the reason, I'm not leaving here without a sealing handshake. It's me, Nadia, formidable and unbeatable.

Naomi. Naomi was a woman I would choose to be my luna if the blood oath didn’t stand, she was of beta blood, strong, assertive and a little bit of a social climber though I liked that about her she would help me reach my goals. She had the same hunger as I did.

Who would have thought that she's both a liar and an evil schemer, well I did even when Nora didn't believe me. These past weeks and days jothan has been nothing but a sweet boy even when he's very disturbing and playful, one can tell after some time with him that he seems a little lonely and doesn't have a lots of friends. Naomi is definitely up to something and that is what I'm gonna find out soon and make sure I send her parking back to where she came from. If Phil can't be of help then she'll need to go. I can think of the only easy and quick way and that's through blackmail. I can pretend to know all her secrets just by mentioning Mrs stone to trigger her to say something.

Naomi added laughing to herself while she received glares from Claire. Explaining to Claire why was useless, as she would not accept the fact why she was upset. After a while, the girls finished catching up on their lives. Naomi had something to do, so she took a break and left after promising Claire to check out the unknown contact for her. Naomi worked as a secret detective and when she was not doing that, she worked as an accountant under a huge company. The girls bid each other fair well with kisses and hugs. ............................... It was already 4pm when Claire got home, she had stopped at the shop to get some girly essentials for herself.

She simply stepped aside and let Amara in, the kind of silent welcome that only a best friend could give. The small flat smelled faintly of jasmine tea and old books. A half-finished painting leaned against the wall, brushes scattered around it like fallen soldiers. Naomi had always lived in colour, in texture, in art that refused to be quiet. Amara envied that about her, how she seemed to turn every corner of her life into a canvas, while Amara’s own felt like a battlefield she was losing ground on. “Sit,” Naomi said gently, nodding towards the worn sofa. “I’ll make tea.”

Ava’s POV Sleep was a stranger that night. I had tossed and turned until the moon itself had traveled halfway across the sky, the glow through my curtains mocking my exhaustion. My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin, as though aware of my turmoil but refusing to share its calm with me. Every breath in the dark felt stifling, every thought circling back to Diego, to Sage, to the chains of my family’s expectations. I finally pushed the covers off with a sigh and padded to my balcony doors. The air outside was cool and heavy with the faint scent of rain. The courtyard below looked peaceful, but peace was the last thing inside me.

And morning came too quickly. Upstairs, Naomi sat alone in her room, her back resting against a chair by the window. The curtains were still drawn, letting only a thin sliver of light slip through the gaps. Her face looked pale, her eyes empty, and the table in front of her was filled with untouched food.

I’d seen it once — in a photo in Eden, my moms old shoebox, the one with all the people she’d hated or fucked or both. Sabrina, age seventeen. Standing next to Caleb. Smiling with a hand on his chest like she didn’t realize what it looked like. Maybe she did. Maybe she’d been trying even back then. Now she was wearing that same skirt again. No tights, legs smooth, no single shame. I didn’t say anything. I just walked in behind her and reached for the coffee. I made sure to press in close, chest against her back, bare thigh brushing hers. She froze but stepped away.

“Is everything alright? You sound.” Cloe closed her eyes. “Naomi,” she said softly. “I need to ask you something. About when you were very small. Before the adoption. Do you know anything at all about where you lived, before everything changed.” There was a long pause on the line. “Funny you should ask that,” Naomi said slowly. “I’ve been having this dream, the last few nights. The same one, over and over. A street. A house with a blue door. I don’t know why, but I keep waking up certain it means something.”

The fake tears were gone from her eyes, though she kept her head down and her handkerchief pressed against her face just in case a servant was watching from the shadows. She walked down the long carpeted hallway, her small shoes making almost no sound. She felt a deep, dark surge of victory expanding in her chest. She had secured her place inside the manor. Lucas could not throw her out without disobeying his own mother in front of the entire household staff. As she rounded the corner near the grand staircase, she froze. Standing at the top of the marble stairs, holding a small stack of children's storybooks, was Naomi. Naomi was dressed in a simple, soft gray sweater and long trousers. Her