Olivia Le Clark Novels & Stories

Both Artemis and Oliva had their hair tied up, and their wills steeled up, were now standing inside the ring. Dollar Twenty smiled when she saw the two stepping inside the ring, "On one side we have the 23-years-old Olivia Richards, the daughter of the honorary clan elder, Mr. Adam Richards of the Phoenix Gods. Miss Olivia Richard has been trained by her father all her life and is known by her peers to have a great talent for swordsmanship. Her skills are even acknowledged by Mr. Dev Bakshi."

The two women sat down, and Olivia launched into a carefully crafted speech. "Um... concerning what happened that day, I support you, though," Olivia said, trying to look sad and empathetic. "She shouldn't have acted like that." Clara's face lit up with a wide grin. "Really?" she asked, clearly pleased. Olivia nodded vigorously. "Yes, my dear. I support you being the leader. I will always be on your side." Clara Mendel was a powerful woman in the group, with many connections both within and outside of the Noble Women organization.

“ Clara was feeling so annoyed about the fact that all of her understanding is wrong for the reality that she is seeing right now. ' and how did he even know that aunt Olivia likes eating apples when no person is telling him things about the information regarding aunt Olivia??' She shouted to her mind out of frustration as she can't help but feel so annoyed at the fact that even if she tried to cover up lies about things that she was telling Oliver to see through all of her false words Clara truly knows much information about details regarding Olivia who is the mother of all ever since she knew her and meet her in person before.

Olivia explained, opening the notebook as if to disclose its contents to Clara. "I'm sorry, once again... I don't want to see the notes. I mean, I do want to see them, but if it's against the rules, then I don't want to. The thing is, I know my story seems far-fetched. How could a wolf save me from being raped? It's difficult to believe, but I want you to know that it's the truth. That's what happened," Clara expressed, hoping to convey her sincerity to Dr. Olivia.

“Who’d you hire for this? The worst firm on the list? I’ve never seen a report take so long.” “I actually hired three people, Mr. Clifford.” “Three? Was there *that* much dirt in my wife’s life before she was ten?” “That’s the problem, sir… there’s nothing.” “What do you mean?” “Absolutely nothing. The first report came back nearly blank, so I had someone else look into it. Nothing significant you don’t already know. I thought a third try was prudent. And that’s it… Olívia Clifford is the daughter of Rosana P. and Ernest Abertton. Her birth certificate was issued at age ten. Before that, she wasn’t registered. No record of orphanages. No certainty about who she lived with after birth. The se

"Thank you for calling." She ended the call and stared at her phone for a moment, her knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. "Is everything alright?" I asked, keeping my voice gentle. "That was Clara Wilkins from the Howling Clay Pottery Studio," Olivia explained, her emerald eyes meeting mine briefly. "She said Lily's... Lily's mug is ready for collection." I noticed how her voice trembled when she mentioned her daughter's name. The raw grief was still so fresh. "Would you like me to take you there?" I offered, already signaling to Thomas Griffin to change our route.

"And this is the best image I’ve produced in years." Olivia finally looked and for a moment she forgot to breathe. She lay against the black marble like a queen draped in moonlight, the Eclipse necklace spilling blue-white fire across her throat and collarbone. Every diamond seemed alive underthe lights, but somehow they weren't the first thing anyone would notice. Her eyes were. They burned with intelligence and challenge. She looked like the kind of woman who would let a man fall hopelessly in love with her, only to smile while she destroyed him.

The great advantage as a wolf was that wounds could heal up themselves. “Ooh totally forget about that I guess I'm quite the unlucky one” he said bitterly. I had no idea what he meant and I wasn't ready to ask either. Derick seemed a little relaxed, “What's your name?” he asked suddenly. "And where are you from? What pack?" My heart pounded in my chest. I had to think fast. “My name is Olivia,” I replied smoothly, forcing myself to meet his look. “I'm from the Silver Moon Pack.” I lied, I didn't have a pack after all so I had to think of something

I asked. Her expression shifted, just slightly, like she had expected something else entirely. “We had a very long night,” she said, recovering quickly. “I’m sure you understand what that means.” Olivia let out a loud, disbelieving laugh that turned a few heads. “Wait,” she said, stepping forward and narrowing her eyes at Clara’s neck. “You’re not calling those hickeys, are you?” Clara’s head snapped toward her. “Excuse me?” Olivia leaned in just a little, studying the marks with exaggerated seriousness.

All I could think about was surviving this nightmare and making her pay for everything. “You’ll always remember me now,” she whispered in my ear, her breath cold against my sweat-soaked skin. I didn't respond and continued glaring at her. She reached out and grabbed my jaw, making me wince in pain. “I know who you are. I know whose daughter you are. You are a Lycan princess and Clinton doesn't know this, right?” My eyes widened in shock. How did she find out? She read the question in my eyes and laughed.