Novel & Cerita The Dumont Diaries

EVA'S POV My life had once been an oyster. Who didn't know Eva Dumont, the only daughter of Alpha Lucian Dumont? I had it all. Power. Beauty and grace. All of it just had to be tarnished by the existence of some girl named Camille.

Its 7am already" sandra said and jasmine sprang up immediately "Wait, how come you woke up before me?" Jasmine asked in disbelief because sandra and sleep were two very close friends "I've been dreaming about the enrollment since last night so i couldn't sleep soundly" Sandra replied "Then let's go get ready.. We should be in school by 9am" Jasmine said and walk to the bathroom * * ★ Desmond's mansion ★ It was a busy morning as the birds can be heard chirping, men and women walking to their Various destination. Some were wishing but Desmond decided not care cause he didn't want his sleep to be distured

Adi said, glancing at him. “What? How can it be Ad-” Adi interrupted him by showing the diary. Ominous silence surrounded both of them. They began reading the content of the diary. The words were manuscripted in quills. Each page made them more and more surprised and shocked. They read the content of the diary randomly. Date: 7th June, 1474 I saw her again. It was drizzling and she stood under her blue umbrella in a yellow dress outside a shop. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her magnetic blue eyes captivated me. Soon she was out of my sight and I realized my carriage took a turn. I panicked. Didn't want to lose her this time.

He stops bugging me for a few seconds when I feel a piece of paper appear in my hands. We're not supposed to use magic during our human courses. Is he crazy?? I smoothen open the crumpled piece of paper curious to see what's it in. "You're beautiful and you're distracting me Layla.." I smile at the note and hide it carefully so the teacher doesn't see me being distracted. The door opens up and the principal walks in with a boy I've never seen before.

I cussed, holding my forehead. "This can't be it! There has got to be more!" I couldn't wrap my head around why anyone would lock a series of books inside a heavy safe and bury it. Frustrated, I picked up a hardback notebook, snapped the straps, and opened it. A cursive handwriting came into view. There were dates on each page of the book. I read the first page. "October 19, 1999. Entry for Research 16." "Dear diary,

Hans opened the cover of the transparent container glass on the book. He carefully took the old book in his hand and intently looked at the title written in bold letters on the cover. “King Dominique’s Memoirs, so I’m guessing this is the one. This will answer those doubts of mine.”

“What is this?” “That’s what killed him,” he said, his voice trembled. “H-He said if I got into trouble, I just have to…to go there.” The detective flipped the card and saw two words engrossed on it in gold ink. DOMUS MALUM His eyebrows furrowed, frustration creeping in. His head began to throb as he looked away. “Thanks for this, Mate,” he said and hopped on his car, never casting a glance again on the guy.

He reaches for Phoebe's side and acts childish purposely tickling her side which gives Phoebe an instant chuckle. Surprised Martha, observes Phoebe's actions because she remembers that when Phoebe was born, she felt an unusual creepy feeling in her nerves. From the moment she held the child in her bare hands, a cold gush of blood rise into her head down to her feet. This unexplainable feeling puzzles her every time she sees Phoebe combing her hair in front of the mirror. With assuring words, Amelia whispers, "Phoebe I told you to stop reading those books, when we leave this place, I might as well leave those books so you won't be able to flip those pages again, you understand? Are you having

I opened the diary to the year where I met Pietro. February 27, 2001. I closed my eyes and tried recalling his face. Whitney sat down while looking at me, she waits patiently. I closed the door and hugged the opened diary. I knelt down and started thinking of that year. Slowly, I started chanting To thee I bestow my soul, salvage my bane life back in time. I beseech thy salvation. I bestow my forlorn life to eternity. Grant me your benediction

Her green eyes gleam with the same predatory curiosity from when we were children and she'd interrogate me about stolen candy. I take a deep breath as I describe Maison Dumont: the hallways are wide as runways, the scent of Italian leather and Turkish coffee, the way the older designers watched me as if I were an intruder—which, technically, I am. "And this Pierre Dumont?" Alicia interrupts, sharpening a nail with the tip of her stylus. "Is he as charming as they say?" Before I can answer, Mom lets out that low laugh that makes even the furniture tremble. Her high heels rest on the coffee table, staining the lacquered wood with melted snow from the Parisian streets.