Novelas y relatos de Obraztsova

I quickly step out to see a woman whose voice sounded awfully familiar, arguing with Delilah, the only model acquaintance I got along with because she was just as bitchy and spoilt as me. “You think I am a loser with no friends. Okay, first of all you couldn’t be more wrong, I have a lot of friends, Elizabeth, Victoria, Danika…..umm...my mother, my grandmother who, fun fact, knitted this sweater for me.” The woman said proudly as she gave Delilah what she thought was a savage reply. Yep, that’s Emily. Delilah just shook her head as she tried to process Emily’s personality, “What’s going on?” I intervene before the fight gets out of hand.

Zaverio casually answers his son. Meanwhile, on the other side, a beautiful woman who looks elegant is still trying to smile in the middle of her dance. With her swan feather skirt looking stunning under the lights, Dealova Persson is a famous ballet dancer in London, but she still looks very professional. Although, a few days ago, Dealova heard the news of her father's death in Italy.

I say seductively, to which I receive a shy smile from her in return. "Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself," she says while blushing, averting her eyes. She looks behind her, looking at someone or something, I could see from where I was standing. "Lesha, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" I heard someone ask, only to see this elderly lady step out eyeing me. I put two and two together and conclude that the old woman is Lesha's grandmother. "Nana, this is Xavier, my date for the night, Xavier, this is my Nana, Ms.Ox." I hear Lesha say with a grin on her face as she watches us.

We walked to the club entrance and were stopped by a guy who looked a bit older than us. “ids please?” I didn’t have my id and I knew the club was for 21 and above so it would have been useless. Olivia smirked “excuse me? I’m Olivia Lopez and this is Camila Santiago” the guy’s eyes widened and he apologized profuse. He quickly let us in.

Shoulders broad enough to split a storm. Beside him, Oksana Rostova was stunning—cheekbones sculpted by the finest Russian genetics, terracotta gown draped with elegant precision. Her smile appeared genuine. Her eyes were already dissecting every inch of Elena’s appearance. “Dante.” Yaroslav clasped the Don’s hand. Brief. Forceful. Loaded. “Your presence—and your wife’s—is an honor.” Elena delivered her smile in exactly the right measure. Not wide enough to seem ingratiating. Not restrained enough to invite suspicion. She took Oksana’s hand in both of hers.

All except one. A face that glared at me with a conceited smile. She had waited for this moment, she had waited to look me in the eyes with a calculative stare. Shania, drapes in a red polkadot gown and a black cashmere trenchcoat hanging over her shoulders. She let her ginger hair fall over shoulder with a braid at the two ends of her frontal. “Finally, we thought you were gonna have to cancel this meeting,” She smiled as though our argument yesterday never happened, like this was the first time we were speaking in months.

They had never seen wealth like this. Elena Petrova, 22, from Russia — tall, pale-skinned with icy blue eyes and full breasts. Aisha Rahman, 23, from Malaysia — petite but curvaceous with golden-brown skin and long black hair. Isabella Costa, 24, from Brazil — athletic with sun-kissed skin, dangerous curves, and a wild spirit. The party started civilized — champagne, caviar, laughter. But as the night deepened, Victor’s true intentions emerged.

I try to take care of her at work and outside work, her husband does everything he can to keep her out of trouble. Norah pouts, and I pull her out of the kitchen until we're in a safe, quiet zone. She shows me a small vile wrapped in a silky napkin, watching with wide eyes to see my reaction. "What the hell is that?" I have to ask. She grins. "It's another poison to add to my collection. I finally got the belladonna extract," she explains. "Are you crazy?" I whisper-shout, looking around. "This is a restaurant! You have to stop bringing them here!"

Jairon commented to me, then turned behind him. I saw his brow furrow in surprise. I took advantage of that to stand up and motioned to my companions to come closer. I want to laugh because they tortured me with their glares at the same time. "Bae, these are my friends. The Atrómitos Orgánosi heads are Aycxe, Shiela, Noella, and Sophia." I pointed them one by one. "He's my husband, Matthew," said Sophia as she put her hand on her husband's arm.

A stunning young woman huffs, folding her arms across her chest, looking at the three of us most unpleasantly. “I’m...” I start to say, but she holds out her hand, making me close my mouth quickly. “I know who you are.” She narrows her eyes at the three of us. “I know who all of you are, Luna Ashleigh Blackwood, Beta Daniel Richmond, and Gamma Eric Stephans. You are all a long way from home.”