Novel & Cerita Novel Upper Westside

An apartment he'd moved to after selling the Upper West Side place that had too many memories. I met him there at seven.

Nicole came closely, whispering in my ear, almost hard for me to hear as the loud music still thumps in my ear, "you know, if there's one person you would want to break all your rules to, it's Ezra Sommers, Demie! -- hot, mysterious, and I bet you won't regret it!" I sighed, thinking that she was talking nonsense, "yeah right, Nicole! I appreciate your concern, but that's never gonna happen! -- I mean, look at me?! look at all this!? there's no way in hell he would even notice me!" I said, gesturing my hand trying to prove my point. Seeing all these up-scale people, looking lavish, and high maintenance, compared to me in my white sneakers and crippled outfit that I've worn since breakfast, m

here he turned to Basira: “We can take to Sir Rushet the letters which her grace, our benefactress, has mentioned.” “Thank you,” answered Basira; “there are occasions here continually, for men are sent expressly.” “All the commands must maintain communication,” said Sir Geswer. “But are you going to Rashroff, indeed, with this young beauty?” “Oh, this is an ordinary puss, not a beauty, gracious benefactor,” said Novoveski; “and I am going to Rashroff, for my son, the rascal, is serving there under the banner of Sir Rushet. It is nearly ten years since he ran away from home, and knocks at my fatherly clemency only with letters.”

I enjoy the burn as it makes its way down my throat to my belly. "I'm heading out. Hold it down for me." Summer nods her head as she pours up a drink for the warlock sitting next to me. Once I'm in my truck I light up a cigarette. I take a long drag and slowly exhale. I want to call Aiden, but I heard when he said he had club business. So, I don't. Instead I pull out of the parking lot turn right and drive in the direction of the city lights. I'm surrounded my high rises where the wealthiest beings live on the upper west side. I pull into the parking garage and park next to Payne's bike. I walk over to Payne's private elevator. I swipe the keycard and wait for the elevator to come down.

I hugged her again in happiness. Eros’ Pov West Mansion has always been magnificent. It was everybody’s dream house. It wasn’t of a fair size, but it was enormously built with grey lyons bricks. They smelled of clean and age. The weeds and scrubs that usually covered the fence were now cleared and the grey lawn was even more visible. Small trees littered the compound and it gave the compound a darker shade. I inhaled the fresh air, away from the bustling of New York city. Sebastian drove into my garage. I had built mine to avoid competition of spaces. Yes, we even fought over trivial matters such as where to have your car packed. Would it be next to mom or dad?

“I’m in. Let’s meet tomorrow. 8 AM at the Baccarat Hotel. We’ll talk details.” “Perfect.” Marcus’s smile was audible. “And Sophia? Welcome back. The industry’s been worse without you.” That night, at 9 PM, the “Upper East Side Insider” blog went live. The homepage featured a sleek black-and-white design, no byline, no contact info—just a single blind item:

Living the fucking dream! That is if your dream is to be a shittily paid, overworked grease servant in a grubby back alley diner that stinks every day of fried food. Manhandled by sweaty mucky men and barked at by your Hitler of a boss as he also eye rapes you and can’t seem to dig his eyeballs out of your cleavage on a daily. I don’t think it’s a mistake he supplied me with uniforms that are two sizes too small and I can barely move without a button popping over my bust. I am working to pay for a crappy one bed shithole across town in the dump dive better known as the lower west side, or the meat packing district. Hardly a safe environment for a young woman alone, but it’s all I can afford

It was a text from an unsaved number she almost didn't recognize before she did. Nathan says you have good taste in bookstores. He gave me the one on 7th. Thought you might want to know it's there. She stopped walking. Read it twice. Caleb had texted her. She didn't know when she'd given Nathan her number for Caleb to have, or when Nathan had decided to facilitate this, but Nathan was a novelist and novelists understood the architecture of the right moment, whether they were building it deliberately or not. She stood on the sidewalk in the West Village, six blocks from where she'd just closed a door, and felt something she hadn't felt in six weeks.

"Stay here with Chen. Don't go anywhere." "I'm coming with you." "Elena—" "We're partners, remember? You don't face your father alone." He looked like he wanted to argue. Then he nodded. Richard's apartment was on the Upper West Side. Richard's apartment was located on the Upper West Side, a prestigious address, but the building had a rough exterior. Paint peeling on the door frames. Carpet worn thin. Richard answered on the third knock, clearly hungover. "What do you want?" "Did you hire someone to kill us?" Dominic asked without preamble.