Reputation Aesthetic Novelas e Histórias

Impatiently, he kicked the hospital bed and snapped, "Stop pretending. It's just a little anesthetic. Do you need to sleep for so long? Get up. I made you get cosmetic surgery for your own good. Don't act like it's such a huge grievance." Of course, I couldn't answer him. I was dead. Livid, James lifted the sheet and kicked me off the bed and to the ground. "Stop playing dead! Have you learned your lesson or not?" The sheet covering me fell to the ground as well, revealing my ashen face. It wasn't a complexion that a living human could have. I hadn't had the chance to heal after the cosmetic surgery, so my face was still swollen and ruddy. James frowned when he saw me. "You're still so ugly.

Ace had spent years—decades—building his image, cementing his influence, ensuring that no one could question his authority. Reputation was everything. And in this world? A single crack in that reputation was enough to bring everything crashing down. Ace sank back into his chair, his head tilted back, eyes sliding shut, as if seeking refuge in the darkness behind his lids. But there was no peace to be found there. The coldness of the room seemed to seep into his very bones, wrapping around him like chains. The walls—lifeless, indifferent—stared back, offering no solace, no comfort.

“Well, if I had written that article, I’d say you should be grateful. Do you know how hard it is to make someone like you look good?” I chuckled, shaking my head. “And why would you do that?” “Reputation is power, Dante. I just gave you more of it. You’re welcome.” I stood, rounding the desk until I was in front of her. Close enough to see the amusement dancing in her eyes. “Or maybe,” I murmured, “you wanted to manipulate the narrative. Make the world see me differently so you could use it to your advantage.” Her lips parted slightly, but she held her ground. “You think I’m that calculating?”

"Your words hurt me, Mrs. Danisa. I'm wounded by them." "Stop your nonsense, Fabian. Sit, and join us for dinner. After all, your models are here too," Kate interrupts, looking annoyed. She's even more irritated when recalling Fabian's casual behavior when he met her at Jane's house. "Alright, alright." Fabian laughs again. "But for my apology, I truly express it from the bottom of my heart. I hope you can understand." They don't care too much about that. As long as the dress is wearable, showcased to those who have exceeded the pre-order limit, they are more than satisfied. For a bunch of people who love to spend money on appearances, receiving a certain quota from influential people greatl

That's all that matters to all of us. Henry's heart gave a sudden, painful lurch. He thought that Renee was absolutely right. Claire might have been the antagonist in the novel, but in reality, she hadn't hurt anyone and had even befriended Renee. He, on the other hand, had spent all that time living in fear and suspicion, instantly doubting her with every minor disturbance. He slowly lowered his gaze at that thought. William, with a slight, knowing smile, patted Henry on the shoulder. "You're all bark and no bite, Henry. You're nowhere near as indifferent as you make yourself out to be. Otherwise, that outburst of panic would never have happened.

Heat rose to her neck. “I meant creatively,” she said quickly. “Surviving creative burnout.” A tense silence followed. The kind designed to make people unravel. The man on the right flipped through her portfolio. “Your aesthetic is darker than we’re used to. But compelling. There’s a sense of edge… control.” “I think luxury is about tension,” Aria said. “Desire without safety. Wanting what you shouldn’t have.” The woman narrowed her eyes, but didn’t disagree. “Mr. Vale will want to approve any final shortlist,” she said.

“I think you pay attention. And I think you might enjoy being useful.” Useful. The word tasted bitter on my tongue. “So this is a transaction.” “Everything is,” he said quietly. I should’ve stood up. I should’ve walked out. But instead, I found myself leaning forward. “What’s in it for me?” “Reputation,” he said. “Influence. A way to change the narrative before Damien does.” I studied him. His calm was dangerous—it made you forget he was the kind of man who could end careers with a single phone call.

Then he asked something unexpected. “Does it hurt?” The question wasn’t strategic. It was quiet. Honest. Avelyn looked toward the window, sunlight spilling through the glass. “Yes,” she admitted. The simplicity of it hit him harder than anger would have. “I built my career before I ever met you,” she continued softly. “And they’re trying to rewrite that.” “They won’t.” “They might.” That was the part he couldn’t tolerate. Because market dips were recoverable. But reputation? That was permanent currency.

“Let me do the PR plan… Please! It’s obvious to me that your job is your life and it will give us something to do together.” Aiden rubbed the back of his neck. “I could never share any proprietary information with you.” It hurt a little because Nevaeh knew he was trying not to say that he didn’t trust her. But once he got to know her, she was sure she could change Aiden’s mind. “I can do something about your reputation as a cold-blooded shark. Someone who goes in for the kill when a company is floundering.” “I like that rep.” “Maybe I can come up with a plan to… humanize you.”

I answered, bristling at Senator Carroll’s description of Charli. She was beyond pretty, and hearing the words from his lips made them sound inadequate. I fought the urge to tell him that Charli wasn't just pretty. She was ravishing, a spitfire with a mind of her own, who could tear him and any other condescending man to shreds. I'd warn him to approach with caution, because though she may appear tame, in reality she was almost too hot to handle. In her eyes she held her essence. They glistened with joy and love even when danger and pain surrounded her. Her beauty went further than her gorgeous exterior. She was enthralling and alluring.