Romans & histoires Our Glamorous Times

She had to—it was her only way out of this hell. Mrs Gloria's lips curved. "I have the perfect fit for you." **** 8 p.m. — Mr Kensington's Gala Pierce stood near the bar, swirling his drink with barely concealed irritation. He hated these events—the fake smiles, the mindless chatter. But for Lumina's Group, he'd endure it. But the mindless chatter of rich people around him wasn't the only thing irritating Pierce. Camille. She had been etched into his very soul—the curve of her waist still a memory in his palm.

"Heck yeah, babe! Destroy them!" The next night, people showed up wearing flashy outfits that shone under the blinding spotlights. It was a lively event. Grace showed up fashionably late with her floor-length, diamond-studded dress. It was handmade and showed off her figure perfectly in a luxurious yet elegant way. No one could look away from her. Her makeup was stunning, accentuating her beauty. It gave her a sharp, cold look that intimidated people. Every rich girl who read the tabloids started gossiping when they noticed Grace.

Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her beauty was clean and elegant. Despite her simple appearance, all the servers knew she was Willow's niece. None of them dared to disrespect her. Coincidentally, Gloria was also there for tea. She was now seeing Greg, so he'd arranged for her to live in the most expensive apartment and enjoy the most luxurious life. She drove the best sports car, and she enjoyed the high life like other rich wives. Now that she'd seen what the rich lived like, she no longer wanted to go back to being poor.

"Oh, I am occupied, and I will continue to be if you and Millie do not sort yourselves out!" While speaking, she placed an invitation card on the coffee table. "I found this in the mailbox and brought it in for you." Winston picked up the invitation to the entertainment industry's gala that was in three days. Sighing, Gloria nagged, "Winston Greer, why do you still make me worry at your age?" He put away the card and sat on the couch. He had a luxury watch on his wrist. Then, he replied flatly to Gloria, "Whatever makes you happy."

he said, unable to hold his laughter in as he left her in his room to go meet Marcel. “Gosh! I am so stupid! How did I fucked this up like this?" Gloria was angry and disappointed with herself. She let herself get carried away by Eden's good looks and sweet talk that he was able to get inside her panties in just a few minutes they met and although it was good and sweet while it lasted however as soon as Marcel entered the room and Gloria set sight on him again she knew instantly she had made a terrible mistake. She just fumbled the bag big time because in comparison to Marcel, Eden is a Mercedes Benz while Marcel is a sexy Lamborghini. How do you compare the two?!!....

The Grand Gala sparkled with New York’s most powerful people. Everything looked perfect on the surface, but underneath was a silent fight for control, money, and secrets. Helena Vance, dressed in a silver gown that shimmered like water, walked through the room like she owned it. She shook hands and smiled politely, but her eyes were always moving. Jason noticed she was scanning the crowd, watching for any sign of trouble.

Now that Julian had found his mate and could settle his mind about the repercussions of the curse, he could seriously consider the marriage. “Your Majesty,” Gloria greeted, rising from her seat and bowing her head slightly. She was dressed expensively and her designer perfume penetrated his nostrils from a mile away. A thought he did not like at all streaked through his mind–that he much preferred Lyra’s natural scent. Julian gave her a nod and took a seat, throwing one leg over the other. Gloria remained standing, hesitant. What, did she want a welcome kiss or something? A fake smile gathered on her lips as she sat back down. She held her head high, and there was a calculating look in her e

"Don't you want to dress?" "Not just yet," she murmured, and rubbed her back against the silken sheets, a sated expression on her face, her hair looked like a river of chocolate and her body-it nearly unmanned him. She was a natural temptress. "Olivia," he choked out with great difficulty. "The rain has let, we must leave, it's time for luncheon." She moved not a muscle except that of her mouth-to smile saucily at him.

A high strung, dark haired beauty with haughty eyes, a kimono, and a god complex. Allera is a startling contrast. Not at all what I expected, but fuck me if she isn't better. Golden hair, eyes that spit fire, a carefully curated mask that I can see right through. Glenda Hale led me to believe that her heiress of a granddaughter was calm, respectful, obedient. Her age must be getting to her eyes, because Allera is nothing like that. She's a storm in a bottle. But of course, the apple of Kazuo's eye will not be a calm woman.

"Tell Nicki Surridge to come here right now. I'm her brother." The manager cast me a scornful glance. "Every now and then, some relatives of Ms. Surridge will come and try to take advantage of her just because she owns this hotel. How could she possibly make time to see you when she's busy managing the business? "Please hurry up and pay the fine. We have a high table turnover rate here. Many customers are waiting to dine here." Since it was the weekend, the private rooms were all reserved. I was dining in the general dining area.