Our Glamorous Times Novels & Stories

An internally gay male if you will. “How did Hollis put up with you again!?” Whitney groaned with laughter into her pink cotton gloved hands, blowing to try and warm them up as she slid into her black Prius. It was almost six P.M, and Hollis’ check out time was seven thirty. She quickly set up a Jazz station on Spotify and plugged her iPhone into the auxiliary.

Why is Gloria yet to send a location? I pulled out my phone and called her to complain. She replied sincerely, "Um... I'm working on it, Your Highness. The few I checked out turned out to be... Orgy" Gloria barely pronounced the last word like she didn't want me to get mad. "I figured you wouldn't want to be in such a place" She added. I shut my eyes, "You mean a sex party? Gang bang? Sounds fun but nay. I'll pass. I didn't know Tuscany was this freaky"

His grip was an iron vise wrapped in warm skin, pulling her up and out into the glittering, high-society sea. The Edmonton Grand Horizon Pavilion was an architectural marvel of stark concrete and soaring glass panels, designed to mimic the jagged geometry of the northern landscape. Inside, the main ballroom was a cavernous expanse of old-money luxury and modern minimalism, the exact "Grounded Luxe" aesthetic Grace had spent her career cultivating for her digital product lines. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from raw cedar beams, casting a warm, amber glow over the hundreds of institutional investors, hedge fund directors, and corporate leaders who made up the vanguard of the Western Canadi

The right smile, the right conversation—carefully cultivated relationships that could shift the balance of entire industries. And tonight, I was part of the display. --- Inside, the estate glittered under the soft glow of chandeliers. Gold and cream hues stretched across the towering ceilings, reflecting the wealth and history embedded in every corner. The walls were lined with art—rare, expensive pieces that Adrian once told me hadn’t left this house in decades. The guests were no different. Men in crisp, tailored suits whispered among themselves, while women in sleek gowns flashed designer jewelry like silent declarations of status. Servers wove between them, offering champagne with practi

“Yes, Villa Orano. Private vineyards, old-world architecture. A real storybook escape.” Max gave a tight smile. “Right. That’s the one.” “Lucky bride,” the woman gushed. Grace touched Max’s hand on the tablecloth. “I certainly am.” He didn’t flinch. He didn’t squeeze back either. He was so far gone inside himself that even the sensation of her touch barely registered. The conversation kept circling around him like vultures. “I heard the guest list has a Nobel laureate.” “Grace’s gown is custom Dior. They flew it in with its own security detail.”

Every movement radiated quiet poise, a confidence that needed no spotlight. At the mansion, Gloria helped Elara with her bag and adjusted the dress, lingering with a teasing smile. “Madam, you look... breathtaking. Sir would notice, if he weren’t so stubborn.” Elara smiled politely. “It’s fine. I don’t need his compliment.” Elara descended the mansion steps, calm and composed, her gown catching the light. Adrian paused, struck by her grace, then quickly looked away, hiding the thought behind a cold expression. “Let’s go,” he said flatly, heading to the car.

Charlie replied, “We can leave now. I would like to see how your club is doing.” Jasmine was overjoyed and she hurriedly followed Charlie out of the house in a respectful manner. *** A short while later, Jasmine’s Rolls-Royce stopped at the entrance of Glorious Club. Glorious Club was located at one of the most prosperous areas in Aurous Hill. In fact, the Moore family had already started this project a few years ago and it had only recently been completed. The club was designed by a few top domestic architects and interior designers in the country. The decoration style of the exterior of the club was not just very trendy but it was also extremely luxurious.

The ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and polished marble, the perfect mask for a night that promised ruin. Bianca stood beside Matteo at the Romano charity gala, her emerald gown clinging to her like armor. Voices rose and fell around her polite laughter, the clink of glasses, the murmur of deals that never named names while her mind kept replaying the graveyard vow and Carmela’s smile like a splinter beneath her skin.. Cameras flashed, laughter rolled but underneath it all, the air was charged, sharp with danger.

“Then let me be the shadow behind your blade.” The gala smelled of perfume and wax, laughter painted thin over conversations cushioned with champagne. Aria Hall glittered—crystal, polished marble, a world that pretended everything could stay lovely if you paid enough. Francesco arrived in a tailored suit that tried to soften the cruelty in his eyes. He was flanked by the predictable—flashy men, empty smiles, a cluster of watchful bodies like a living fence.

Our first time with Gloria is not going to be frantic and rushed in the back of a limo. Gloria pulls away from me then, and I realize she must have been startled by the movement – enough to break out of the haze of lust. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her pupils so dilated that her gold irises are a slender ring around the great black pools. Her skin is flushed bright pink, and her hair disheveled. It’s a nearly irresistible sight, one that makes me want to go back on my earlier decision not to claim her. No other man should ever be allowed to see my Gloria in this state.