Stared

“would you like to dance?” he asked me. I gulped and searched my mind for an excuse. “I don’t know how to; I’m not used to this” I lied smoothly. “I’ll teach you” he took my slender hands in his large ones and led me to the middle of the ballroom. He placed my hands around his neck and slipped his hands around my waist. “flow with the music” we started to move slowly to the music. I stared down at his suit not having the courage to look into his eyes. “look up amore” he ordered. My eyes flickered to his face and I stared into his blue eyes. They were dark and empty and they sent shivers down my spines. ** Camila Santiago has lived all her life under the control of her father but she believes it gets too far when she is forced to get engaged to cocky arrogant billionaire Roman Romero. but as they get closer to each other, she finds herself falling slowly for the arrogant Romero.

My wife, Violet Miller, was obsessed with cleanliness. Yet I caught her peeling shrimp for a male intern at a dinner party. I demanded a divorce on the spot. Violet stared at me in disbelief. “Daniel is like a younger brother to me. What’s wrong with looking after him? Are you really divorcing me over this?” My heart ached. Maybe... it was time to let go.

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.

He stood in front of me, held my face between his hands and stared down at me. I waited, once again, I did. For what? This time I didn't know. But the moment he spoke, I knew, the wait was over. "You waited." He said. I gasped. " You waited." He breathed.

It shouldn’t have to be difficult, Ashton,” I uttered, my voice quivering as I stared at him. “It was a mistake, Novah,” he sighed, closing the door on my face. “I love you,” I whispered, my heart cracking as I stared at the door. He was never going to see me as anything other than his pathetic step sister. I could never be more. Novah’s life wasn’t as perfect as the world thought. Trapped in a house that felt too cold to be called a home. With a father who barely looked at her, without hatred in his eyes. But the world didn’t know that, all they saw was the perfect daughter, and a great student. All Novah has ever wanted was love, someone who sees her to be just as more than just a nerd. Worlds collide when she realises that the boy she had been crushing on for two years would be her step-brother. Will Novah kill the feelings that she had harboured for years? Or will she act on them and deepen the rift between her and her father? In the toss of family and love, where do morals stand?

“I’m right here, so why are you using a toy? Come, let me satisfy you.” Keenly aware of the blue-collar men around me on the sleeper train, lust bubbled up in me. I was sweating so badly that my lingerie was drenched. I had no choice but to satisfy myself, but someone caught me in the act. An older man pulled my blanket aside and stared lustfully at me.

The day Henry decided to marry my best friend, I turned into a joke in everyone’s eyes. He lifted my chin and stared into my eyes bewitchingly. “If you admit your fault, I can overlook your mistakes and start over again with you.” I obeyed and uttered the words, “I was wrong.” And yet, with mocking eyes, he sneered, “I can’t believe you’re this cheap, Julia.”

After Ryan Spencer cheated on me again with his secretary, I completely lost it. When my mind started to spiral, I grabbed the fruit knife off the table. I just wanted it to end. “Why are you hurting yourself again? He doesn’t love you anymore?” I looked up. The sixteen-year-old Ryan was walking toward me, heartbreak written all over his face. His voice was gentle. “Tell me who he is. I’ll make him pay.” I stared into the bright, earnest eyes of the boy standing in front of me. I didn’t say a word. I simply lifted my hand and pointed at his face. Later, Ryan was the one who had me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. When the sedative began to wear off, the teenage boy appeared again, sitting by my bed. He stared at the man outside who looked just like him. The light in his eyes faded little by little. Then he spoke, his voice strained. “I don’t care who he is. I’ll kill him.” The sixteen-year-old Ryan never lied to me. When he said something, he meant it.

I stood at his foot, looking him over. The way he kept up his arms, made the muscles of his arms bulge, leaving those on his abdomen flexed. He looked like a model posing for a casual photo. Just then, a disturbing thought entered my head as I stared at his body. I closed my eyes and shook my head to expunge the illicit thought that crept into it but the thought became vivid behind the darkness. I flipped them open and stared at him again. Then throwing caution and the thought of the dreadful future out the window, I crouched on all fours and crawled on both sides of him till I was face to face with his chest. Slowly, I laid my body on top of his, placed my palms on his chest, and rested my jaws on it. The body contact sent warmth and something sweet up and down my body, going to rest on its usual place below my waist. He still had his eyes closed but I knew he was awake because his face slowly lit up in a beautiful smile, then ever so leisurely, his arms slid down and wrapped around my waist.

I had been in a relationship with Harry Chalamet for ten years. He stood up for me and even ended up in the hospital after a fight. He financially supported me in my education by laboring on construction sites. Even my friends could tell that he was madly in love with me, and I believed it too. Just when we were about to get married, I noticed he often secretly stared blankly at a photo. But the person in that photo wasn’t me…