Novel & Cerita Rebecca Cyberpunk Pfp

But then she restricted her thoughts from turning it real. She exhaled a long breath then turned on the other side, drifting to sleep. The following morning, Rebecca's name created quite a buzz on the internet, and so did her pictures. Pete was a famous businessman, and being launched by him was a big deal. People started to look for information about Rebecca on the internet. Meanwhile, Rebecca was in her dream, unbothered by any tension, when suddenly she heard chattering loudly outside of her room. A frown appeared on her face.

"I would also like to report her—Juliana Ziegler is a foreign spy from Rovimia!" Those around subconsciously took a few steps back.

I drew a big, dark circle and put a huge question mark around that question, my teeth grinding together in frustration. Then, I moved to the next line on the notepad. Instead of letting Stephanie take my place as the new Luna, which is what she had murdered my baby for and helped frame me for, the council completely bypassed her. They brought in a strange woman named Vivienne, a woman who looked exactly like me with barely any difference at all, and they had Kendrick mate her immediately. For what purpose? Why did Kendrick need a mate with my face? This whole thing showed one truth: I was right in the middle of it all. I wasn't just some random stray they picked up out of pity. I was the tar

I hurry toward the massive walk-in closet and begin searching through Valerie's endless collection of clothes of elegant gowns and tailored suits bone of them will help me disappear, I need something ordinary, something that won't be expected from someone like Valerie I continue digging through shelves until my fingers brush against exactly what I've been looking for, a smile spreads across my face. There it is. I'd noticed the outfit earlier in the week while exploring Valerie's wardrobe but had hidden it away in my mind in case I ever needed it and apparently, today is that day so I pull everything out. A black hoodie with grey joggers, simple white crop top, faded face cap and finally, di

“I own an interior design company, and we regularly source art for upscale complexes. Having Madison as a gallery lead would make supply seamless.” Eleanor slammed her fork down, finally breaking her silence. “Don’t flatter yourself just because you know how to smear paint on a canvas,” she spat. I turned to her calmly and took out my phone. “Actually, I’m not just a painter.” I handed the phone across the table. Confused, Eleanor took it. Her expression slowly shifted from scorn to disbelief. On the screen was an international article titled: “The Mystery Muse Behind the Viral Art Craze: Anonymous Female Artist Shakes Up the Scene.”

Her mind was a storm jealousy, heartbreak, and rage twisting together until she could hardly breathe. She picked up her phone again, scrolling through Maya’s pictures on social media. There she was, smiling beside Elias, her eyes full of warmth. The sight made Rebecca’s blood boil. “You took everything from me,” she whispered bitterly. “But I’ll make sure you lose it all.” Her phone buzzed suddenly — a message from an unknown number. The text read: “I know things about Maya Denovan. Things the world shouldn’t know. Interested?” Rebecca’s breath caught. She stared at the message for a long time before a small, dangerous smile curved her lips.

Two men were standing out with a woman who was coming from the opposite side, when her eyes landed on us she broke out into a smile. “Atlas.” She walked up to us, I took in her appearance. Her hair was short in a pixie cut that framed her small round face, her upturned hazel eyes were bright yet sharp, and her lashes were full and long that you didn’t need to squint to see them. She had a tall athletic build that fit into the cargo pants and black tank top she wore. “Rebecca,” Atlas responded with a bright smile and a hug that I think lasted way too long. Rebecca turned to me with her cherry smile still on her face.

Even though I was not a great scholar, I could have a brief idea that the lack of food and hydration would not leave me in that room for a long time. I was willing to die. I would die before I gave in. And even if my inner world was collapsing, even if hunger and despair were eating me from the inside out, I would never give up. "Rebecca" I spoke once again, like a broken radio, like a song that no one else can stand to hear. I swallowed the fear and pain, and said again: "My name is Rebecca Smith. Becca. Just Becca.” "If you want it that way, that's fine with me.”

I say, hugging her. As we pull apart, someone sniffles by the door. "You guys are going to make me cry," Tamara says, wiping away her tears. "When did you get here?" I ask. "While Miss World here was giving her speech," Tamara answers, using the nickname we gave Rebecca due to her tanned skin, gorgeous green eyes, raven black hair, and sexy curves. If she hadn't become an engineer, she would've been one hell of a supermodel. "Stop calling me that." Rebecca glares at Tamara.

" it just goes with the concept you know, and besides, I hear that men are into blondes these days" "And?" I said still not understanding the essence of the wig." I thought I was supposed to be a hot mess to ruin your date." "Yes but I just had to get the wig, you know it goes with the concept, ra, ra, ra," Rebekah said imitating a cat with claws. "Why a femme fatal of all personas?" "Because so far that's the only persona I think can get the job done, don't ask, just trust me" Rebekah reassured giving me a wink.