Zhan Zhao Mga Nobela at Kwento

There was just her, the heavy weight of her scripts, and the low, lonely hum of the climate control. ​One evening, her thumb habitually scrolled through her industry feed until a headline made the air catch in her throat: ​ZHAO GROUP EXPANDS TO SINGAPORE: CEO ZEKE ZHAO SPOTTED AT LUXURY GALA WITH HEIRESS VIVIANNE CHUA.

She was now Qiao Mo, the secretary to the President of of the Wushi Cooperation, and she was running late for work. She stormed out of her apartment building tying her long hair into a classic ponytail and wiping off the toast crumbs on her cheeks. Her long-sleeved white shirt was carefully tucked in her stripped skirt. Her purple coat hanging loosely on her leather purse almost fell off when she leaped on the bus. She still had seven minutes that, if there was no traffic would save her from a lecture from the president.

Chika however never appreciated anything because it was sadly never enough. Chika “ my grandmother could buy this expensive a** s*** and claims she could only afford eighty dollars for my birthday!” “ I never even got a graduation gift!” Chika is thirty-one years old, but still expects everyone around her to foot the bill for her lifestyle. She smokes pot and that’s all she spends her money on. She could not keep a job to save her life because according to her everyone was jealous or out to get her. Granted she was the one always late for work when she saw it beneficial to actually go.

Zane As I sat with my personal cabinet, discussing the intricate details of our latest ventures, the atmosphere in the room was a mix of intensity and confidence. We had been working tirelessly to expand our influence, and the success of our operations depended heavily on precision and secrecy. My advisors, each an expert in their field, were laying out the plans with meticulous care. Just as my chief strategist, Lila, was about to present her latest analysis on our territorial gains, the door swung open with a force that silenced the room.

It took me ages to figure it all out, but all those extra lunch breaks was only the beginning. At school, most kids loved the extra food, but there was this group of girls, actually, they were the most popular girls in the school for obvious reasons, that were totally against it. Cindy Zhao was the leader of that group. She was of course completely beautiful and was rumored to be signing a modeling contract with some fashion magazine. She was tall, ultrathin and it was also rumored that she had plastic surgery on her nose but she never denied or confirmed these allegations. Her friends Grace Guo and Lulu Dong were almost as beautiful as her; both had super long legs and were frightfully skin

“YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO, YOU TRUNK OF A MAN!” A low, sinister chuckle leaves his lips at my lame insult, his wide shoulders shaking slowly at the motion. “My name is Santino Ricca.”

How do two people make me feel almost the same way? Taking a deep breath I put on the clothes, and throw my wet hair into a ponytail. Opening the bathroom door back up I see both men standing side by side in front of the door. Alex changed into sweat pants and t-shirt, with his hair looking as if he rubbed his towel through it. Walking away from the both of them towards the door my stomach rumbled. I need food. Food always makes everything better.

I say biting into my toast and chewing on my scrambled eggs. "Good appetite," Zane says as he walks into the bathroom. After finished bathing, Zane was putting on his clothes when his phone started ringing. Sipping my hot chocolate, I watch at Zane as answers and stands transfixed in the bed room. Before I notice what is going on, Zane's phone is falling from his hand as he joins it soon. Grabbing the tray, I carefully toast it to the side, making sure that I don't tumble over my liquid in the cup.

I drew in a sharp breath, suddenly sure that things were about to go very, very wrong. ‘Dalton,’ I whispered, mind-linking him. ‘Dalton, I think -’ Before I could say any more, there was a shout. The zombie had a hold of the warrior. Its frail appearance was obviously fake. It was strong enough to pick the warrior up as if he weighed nothing and throw him hard against the rear of the truck, holding him pressed up against the vehicle. The warrior yelled and growled in fury, kicking out to break free as the rest of the warriors leaped into action.

The doorbell rang. Chantelle froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She heard her cousin Isabella get up to open the door. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she heard the sound of someone else coming into the house. After a few moments, her uncle came back into the kitchen, followed by his wife. "Chantelle," Rosemary her uncle's wife called out. "Yes ma" She answered."