Virginia Woolfe Novels & Stories

It is understandable to cry when you're daughter is missing like you don't know if they are still alive or what. "If ever someone kidnapped Hilary, what is his or her motive?" I asked myself. It could be money, in telenovelas, kidnappers ask for ransom. Hilary is the only offspring of Helene Brooklyn, the owner of one of the famous and biggest shoes company. "Honey! Food is ready!" mom shouted while carrying a pot. I then sat at the dinner table and look at the food in front of me. My eyes sparkle as I see the 'Sinigang na Hipon'.

I stand frozen. Not because I’m intimidated. But because she knew his name. His real nickname. The one no one says. The Wolfe. I hurry away, heart pounding. Something tells me that woman isn’t just a ghost from Damien’s past. She’s here to reclaim something. Or destroy it. She leaves me stunned. I keep my eyes glued on her till she is out of my sight. All I want to do to her is to give her a dashing slap right now. I quickly to finish my shift, anticipating to tell Maya, all I just encountered.

“Is this the woman you were telling me about, Mr. Carver?” Hugo asks, while I’m frozen in shock looking at him. He’s around my age, dressed well in a cashmere sweater and dark pants. His blonde hair is cut short and perfectly styled. His eyes are the color of warm chocolate that, coupled with his soft smile, help him give off a kind and friendly demeanor. “Yes,” Mr. Carver says and waves a hand toward me, presenting me. “Mrs. Esther Graham, adopted daughter of Preston H. Owens.”

No one said anything after that, first because he had spent more than half an hour telling her about his life and second because there was little left to reach the place, so Luciana decided to admire the landscape. They both felt comfortable. In the distance they could see what a huge and splendid mansion looked like, the atmosphere was incredible, the mansion was surrounded by pure nature and of course the vineyard, Luciana understood at that moment why her friend had fallen in love with that place. The vineyard was located exactly on Long Island, New York, the property was like a business, owned by the Guiachetti family, which is in charge of the operation of the place and the production o

"Adrian Wolfe has locked down every single judicial avenue in the state of New York. His mother’s sudden return from Singapore has completely mobilized their old-money foundation. The banking commission is refusing to take our calls, and the federal magistrate is fast-tracking their motions. If we stay in the courtrooms, we are going to be slaughtered by the opening bell." Suddenly, the heavy double doors to the executive office flew open, and Vanessa Sinclair walked in. She looked completely pristine, the very image of cold aristocratic malice. Her designer sunglasses were pushed up into her sleek blonde hair, and her tailored cream trench coat hung perfectly from her shoulders. Yet, beneat

Emily Warner “Okay, before you guys start yelling at me, I need to tell you honestly what hap-“ “I can’t believe you met him!” Danika says, and I just huff as I look at Elizabeth, who wasn’t happy either. “Yes but trust me, I wasn’t pathetic and swooning over him like I used to.” I told them but they didn’t look convinced. Of course, they won’t believe me, unless I tell them about Lucas, which is something I just can’t do, “Bottom line is that I have to go to his wedding.” I say and they look at me like I am crazy.

So one morning, I sat at the kitchen table, staring at my laptop with a cup of lukewarm tea, typing the words that had been sitting in my heart for weeks: The Wolfe Foundation for Women. I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling slightly. It felt surreal, naming something so big, so important. But it also felt right. Roman came down the stairs a few minutes later, shirtless, his hair still damp from the shower. He glanced at me curiously as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “You’ve been up early lately,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his mouth. “Plotting another viral blog post?” I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Not this time. Something better.”

She adjusted the strap of her simple bag on her shoulder, turned, and started the long walk back to the penthouse alone, her heels clicking steadily on the pavement. Her expression stayed calm, but her mind was sharp and working. She had everything she needed stored away. Ava walked three blocks before she stopped, then stepped into the shade of a quiet building. Leaning her back against the cool stone wall, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small, worn notebook and a pen. She flipped it open to a blank page, then began writing. Victoria Hargrove – married to hedge fund guy (Richard). Yacht in Amalfi. Dior collector.*

I cut her off, feeling the pound of my heart. She looks at me, and her eyes fill with tears. "I read the book - All the bright places. That is not your story, Viola. You are not Finch, you are Violet, all the colours in full brightness, and it hurts so much that you can not see yourself how we see you." She quietly cries and I will very much like to blame her tears on the pregnancy and on not that I broke her heart. "You saved my life, Viola." She dries her tears with a tissue.

Daisy Hunter is packing her bags to retire home. Stepping out the door was Wade Roberto,"Daisy Hunter, remember it's twenty billion dollars." He muttered and blew kisses in the air and left the office. Daisy Hunter stared askance at him as her thoughts raced. 'Why did Wade Roberto choose me out of all the ladies at the office?' 'Why would he be offering such a huge amount of money for a two year marriage contract?' This and many more thoughts raced through the mind of Daisy Hunter as if she had stepped into a convoluted maze with no clear path forward.