Novel & Cerita Our Glamorous Times

On my cheek. The bells rang again. _______________________________________ The ballroom of Storm estate gleamed with polished marble, crystal chandelier. I stood beside Darell a flute of untouched champagne in her hand. My veil had now been removed, my gown dragging behind me. Guests mingled with careful grace —diplomats in navy suit, military officials with tight smiles and aging aristrocrats. Everyone was happy or pretending to be. "Do you want a refill?" I whispered to Darell. He didn't respond. Just placed the empty glass on the table, face unreadable. Clara stole a glance at him. He looked every bit the war hero the country adored— stoic, composed, untouchable.

The Hargrove Club smelled like old wood and money and the particular kind of floral arrangement that costs more per stem than most people made in an hour. Elara arrived at eight, which was not early and not late, the exact time that said she belonged there and had other places she could be. She wore a dress from the back of a wardrobe she had not opened in three years, dark green, expensive in the way that didn't announce itself, precisely right for the environment. Her hair was up. Her jewelry was minimal and real. She had not been Elara Sterling of the Sterling family in a long time. She was surprised by how easily it came back. The posture. The particular quality of presence that old mone

I said while she blushed harder. “Thank you, baby." She replied. I held her hand and led her to the car and I opened the door for her. When I was sure that she was sitting down comfortably, I closed the door and moved to the driver's seat before driving out. A few minutes later, we arrived at Glamour Restaurant; a five-star restaurant in New York City that was beautifully furnished with fresh flowers on each table, and a glass chandelier was available too. Moreso, the interior design was top notch and I knew the owner of the restaurant must have spent lots of million dollars just to bring it to the standard it is because foreigners do

I gasped and pulled it off easily. Ivor then mumbled something under his breath while holding the pendant, as if sealing its power. Then he smiled at me, saying, "Parasitic charms are my cat's favorite snack. Once it's gone, the one who bound it will feel the backlash. "You're free now. Don't worry, and just go live your life." His black cat let out a lazy meow, as if saying, "Leave it to me." By the time Ivor finished, my grandmother and mother had already set the table. The five of us sat down and shared dinner as if nothing bad had ever happened. Afterward, Ivor left, his cat curled in his arms.

Way back into the days when this city was still a waste land of war and death. Maybe that would explain why I gave it my all in dressing for this occasion. I even had Bree prep my hair and glam my face up. I hated wearing body cons cause of how much they hugged my ample boobs and averagely large backside but this night was different - it felt different. Convinced by Bree, I’d worn my champagne red fitted dress that highlighted my slightly revealing cleavages and call me crazy but I loved it. With the classical music playing in the background, intricately designed interiors and crowd of well-dressed wealthy individuals, I couldn’t help smiling at absolutely nothing. Who knew I’d ever get the

The reception glittered with opulence. Crystal chandeliers spilled golden light from vaulted ceilings, casting delicate shadows across tables draped in silk and dressed with ivory roses and snow orchids flown in from the Alps. The scent of aged Bordeaux mingled with saffron-laced lamb and the sharp bite of cologne, forming a tapestry of indulgence. Every corner whispered wealth. Cameras flashed, media hovered, and power-drenched guests—from billionaires to foreign dignitaries—leaned in close, eager to witness the moment that had ignited tabloids and whispered rumors for weeks:

And it has been about two weeks already and the scandal about him doing drugs had died down. The store was named "Glam Haven”, and adequately decorated and looked sophisticated. Glass display cases showcased an array of jewelry pieces, from delicate necklaces to intricate earrings. Shelves were filled with colorful scarves, stylish hats, and an assortment of handbags that would make any fashionista's heart skip a beat.

The girls and I are getting ready at the Maravilla Grand, one of those glossy high-rise hotels that leans shamelessly into old-world glamour and modern decadence all at once. Chandeliers glitter in every hallway. The lobby smells of bergamot and money. Everything sparkles... the mirrors, marble, people.

The night air clung to Valentina’s skin like velvet and smoke as she stepped from the backseat of the hired car. The Romano casino rose before her, a temple of glass and gold, its neon lights spilling across the pavement like the glow of a thousand sins waiting to be committed. She adjusted the strap of her black lace dress, the kind that suggested money without screaming it, and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Miss Bellamy,” the driver murmured, handing her a sleek clutch.