Novel & Cerita Sasha From The Voice

"But I was wrong, my mate is nothing like that. I'm sorry I kept it from all of you. You deserved to know who your Luna is,although some already know, some may have figured it out, but for those of you who are still clueless about who she is, my mate is...." My heart started beating uncontrollably fast. I started to sweat. "Sasha Lina Vanders" Damien said, motioning towards me. He then nodded his head, motioning me to come up. I gave him a scowl look while walking towards him, then climbed the podium. I turned around and stared out, many eyes were staring back at me. I smiled "Hi.... please just call me Sasha. Luna is too formal for my taste." I said jokingly.

Not when secrets were bound to unfold. Sasha stood in front of the dressing mirror, watching her champagne colored dress frame her figure comfortably. She smiled with relish, as things were finally going her way. "Just a little more" she muttered under her breath. She lowered her gaze to smoothen the non-existent crease that might have formed on the dress when her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and her spine went rigid. She reached for it, with trembling hands and answered. "Yes?" She said. "I see you're finally making a move Shay" Liam's voice came from the other end of the line.

Sasha turned to leave, but Ethan caught her arm, his eyes wide with shock. "Wait, what did you just say?" he asked, his voice trembling. Sasha turned back to face him, a sly smile spreading across her face. "I said I intend to seduce Nathaniel," she repeated, her voice dripping with malice. Ethan's eyes widened in horror. "What? Why would you do that?" he demanded, his grip on her arm tightening. Sasha shrugged, her smile never wavering. "I need power, Ethan. And you can't offer me that."

Sasha said. "What happen to your voice?did you cry? Sasha answer me" "Xander asked me to kill myself so prepare my funeral in fifty eight minute"Sasha said hanging up the call. "What!! Sasha where the hell are you? Xander what the fuck! Sasha.... Sasha"He stopped when he heard. toot.....toot..... toot He was getting some work done in his private room in his bar, he picked his phone up to call his fiancee but she beat him to it, and he heard her say funeral, his heartbeat raised even his blood pressure.

Lenny was nowhere you could point to and exactly where he needed to be. Sasha stepped onto the concrete lip like it was a low stage. She didn’t dress the moment up; she wore boots, black jeans, a dark sweater under a coat that cut the wind. The bruise had faded to a ghost; the bandage was gone. She let the men see her face, not as defiance, not as confession, simply as fact. “Eddie,” she said. He stepped forward. He looked smaller among the stacked freight, a man who had been reduced to the size of his choices. Two kids, a wife who worked nights. He swallowed twice before words would cooperate.

Kourtney said, "What's the point of lip-syncing? Turn off the original vocals!" The room was completely silent. "Why don't you turn off the original vocals?" Kourtney asked. "Kourtney, the original vocals are off. This is Sasha's voice!" After that, everyone was even quieter, only my singing filled the room. People were shocked. My singing was beautiful, almost identical to the original artist. After a while, I finished singing. "Wow!" Everyone clapped, looking at me in surprise. "Sasha, are you the original singer?" "Your voice is so beautiful. How do you sing so well? It's even better than the original!"

Expensive perfume and desperation. Sasha. She steps onstage like she belongs among the organizers. White dress. Angelic smile. And in her eyes—a promise of war. “Good evening,” she says, taking the mic. “I’m thrilled to be here, especially to talk about something Mr. Lambert knows very well: transparency.” The murmurs in the room are almost amusing. But what comes next isn’t. “And since we’re talking about transparency… why not show the world who their idols really are?” Then—she shows the photos.

Her heart thumped harder as she thought of who it could be, and when the unknown person finally revealed itself, Taylor let out a loud gasp, "What? You?" Sasha let out a smile as she stared at Taylor and her kids, "Yes sweetheart, it's me. Sasha Davis." "Why are you doing this to me?" Taylor suddenly looked away so she could let her tears fall freely from her eyes, "My kids are innocent. If you want to hurt anyone, hurt me and leave my kids out of this. They know absolutely nothing."

“Who sent you? Who’s behind this?” Sasha took a shaky breath, her body trembling. She looked at Sandra for support, but Sandra could only stand there, her eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. It was clear that Sandra had no idea what was going on. “I... I’m sorry,” Sasha whispered, her voice barely audible. “It was... it was someone higher up. Someone who—” She faltered, as if struggling to find the words. “I was just following orders. I didn’t know it would go this far. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

There is no need to reach out to anyone on the team. “Where are you?” I whisper, not expecting an answer. A soft creak breaks through the silence as the room door swings open. Sasha steps in, already talking before the door fully shuts behind her. “Rehearsal was actual hell,” she groans, tossing her bag onto her bed. “If I hear one more person miss their cue, I swear I’m quitting my major and becoming a farmer.” But I didn't respond. She moves around the room, half-distracted, pulling open her wardrobe.