The Dumont Diaries 소설 & 이야기

The book he, her old bestie had bought for her. It was a simple gift for her 14th birthday, 10 years ago. It was the last birthday he had spent with her. Or rather, the last day. He left her a small note that she noticed a few hours after his family had left. They were celebrating her birthday with her family as they were like one family. Carmen never used to like diary books and thought that they were stupid, reminding you of the reality you want to escape from.

said Damien curious . " It's boring to stay in the room without doing anything . It's not that annoying to only be cleaning without doing anything else but still........it gets boring and a person needs to have something for their own fun . Computers are already taken by others , there's not even a TV so........The only thing that I could do is , come to the library and read some books to entertain myself . " said Charlotte smiling . Damien looked at the book Charlotte was holding and noticed that it was a historical book with the legends of dragons .

I was so focused on trying to find the source of the attack, I totally missed the fact I wasn't alone anymore until I almost stumbled on the three witches, huddled close, whispering to each other. It was only Charlotte's rumbling growl of warning that kept me from barging right into them. I stumbled to a halt, looking around the vast library just before I met a pair of chill blue eyes now locked on me. Andre Dumont straightened, falling silent, his two sons equally still. Gone was the harsh arrogance I was used to, the sharp jab of superiority the Dumont men carried around with them. Instead, Andre's attempt to appear better-than fell sadly short, a play in petulance echoed by Jean Marc and

"there's just been the boy couch since Mr hourthone disappeared." "you got a wife?" dumont Bucharest frowned"I'm celibate for good, kid " "I thought mallard was your son." "pst, he was just another kid, not just exactly like you."replied dumont"see I've always wanted for kids to do the right thing and never repeat desame mistake that I think I made in the past." "good of you."

He looked at me, and he was boring holes in me. I couldn’t move and stand there like someone has pressed a pause button. But Damien move forward and bent to pick up the Diary in his hand. I didn’t know if he was aware of this diary or not. He opened the first page and his eyes get wide in recognition. It won’t need any rocket science to know whose diary it is as a big picture was attached on its first page. He close his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself, but I know I was doomed today.

Finally, Damien said, “What do you want to do?” I looked up, meeting his gaze. “I want the truth. All of it.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That night, I returned to the Montrose estate for the first time in months. It felt colder than I remembered. The chandeliers were too bright. The hallways were too empty. Every surface gleamed like it had something to hide. I went straight to my mother’s old study. The safe behind the painting still responded to her birthday. Inside: stacks of letters, two USB drives, and a worn leather diary I’d never seen before.

I did not counted on honesty to still exist in anything. Honest men tend to exist in some capacity, no matter how corrupt a society or system is. This was the case of agent Marx Zeener, poor man, he was so honest and he somehow found himself in charge of the Madame Rahma disappearance. It was just a matter of time before he connected a dot, and it led him to my family. Early Monday morning, he knocked on the floor of Hotel Badur as we had changed the name of the place. He and his team of heavily armed DSS agents:

the madame said. Camilla smiled, it seemed she had gotten her ally. The madame would be very useful to her, she thought to herself. "thank you, I will keep that in mind" she told the madame. "Now, I am sure you came in here for breakfast, come and have a seat, I will serve you breakfast" she told Camilla. "Thank you" Camilla said as she sat down and prepared to have her breakfast. ……….. Camilla was sitting on Dante's bed reading a book, she was bored out of her mind. She wished she could be anywhere but in this room.

Gladwin believed there was no other diary like it because he had made it specifically for Flavia as a seventeenth birthday gift. His heart pounded so hard. Why was this seven-year-old item here? Gladwin took a step and reached for it. Once again, he felt uneasy. Gladwin opened the diary, and an envelope fell near his feet. Gladwin looked at the open page in front of him. His wife's handwriting was there, with her name written at the top of the page. Dear Uncle Dear Uncle, I return this Diary to its rightful owner. It has been in my embrace for seven years, accompanying my days filled with longing for you. Don't be jealous of this Diary because it has stayed with me longer than you.

Thornton is being overly sweet. Uhh, I let out a little noise of frustration and quickly shoveled those thoughts down. Emotions are now all over the place. I turned to Donna and found words. "No, I didn't know anything, and I don't want anything." Looking over at Daniel to save me, he stepped up and told Donna he was ready to get the paperwork started as he was settled on the Bugatti Divo. With that, Donna quickly sprang into action as she said, "come this way."