Zoe Sugg Books Novels & Stories

Zoe didn’t blink. She knew what they were after. Their balance. These people wanted their balance more than they cared about what was really going on with her. It was obvious. Zoe scoffed. Some of them like the event planner had gone ahead to subtly ask if she would still get her balance if the wedding would no longer take place. Zoe leaned her head back on the couch, closing her eyes, allowing her annoyance wash away. Her mind went to her savings. Now that she had cut off Rogue cosmetics and Aurelle had done the same to her, she had three brands remaining.

RAINA Zoe's words sat in my chest for days. Men like that don't notice women like us by accident. I told myself she was being dramatic. Zoe was always like that. She was a blogger who wrote articles for a living. She saw stories everywhere. She found patterns in things that were just coincidence. She had warned me about boys in high school who turned out to be perfectly fine and predicted disaster about a roommate who became one of my closest friends. Zoe was paranoid by nature.

Once convinced, he sat, powered on the system, and began typing at a speed that would make a concert pianist jealous. I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, the image of that red-coated silhouette still carved into my mind. I knew that kind of gaze. Calculating, deliberate. Not a fan, not the press. Something quieter. More controlled. A threat wrapped in stillness. And it worked. “You know,” Zach said without looking away from his screens, “sometimes I wish Zoe had been born a cat. Easier to control. Wouldn’t turn my cookie dough into a beauty product.” “Zoe’s just life training,” I said. “Prepping you for every worst-case scenario.”

“Read it,” Zoe said. She was at the kitchen table when Bianca came downstairs. The notebook was open. Gerald was on the windowsill. The map was to one side. She had written one page in the careful deliberate script she used for everything important. She pushed the notebook across. Bianca sat down. Ethan sat beside her. They read together. My name is Zoe. I am ten years old. Three weeks ago I stood at a microphone at the World Health Organisation and told forty-three countries what the Adeyemi-Harlow Framework felt like from the inside.

I was unable to seduce Reis looking like a pair of chopsticks. "I actually think you look fly." The voice behind me made me jump. Zoey was standing by the door, watching me. She also had the sex book in her hand. "You should try this style. Let him do all the work, and it'll be less painful for you," she added casually, flipping through the pages. "Zoey!" I ran to the closet and grabbed a long coat, hastily covering myself from her view. "And give me that." I snatched the book from her hands.

Kendra sat in the library with the book, The Hobbit, opened on her lap. When Rex had first shown the room that was lined with books to her, she’d been both intimidated and overwhelmed. She was taught to read by Olga, but the availability of reading material was limited. Therefore, her reading skills were wanting.

“Zoe seems to have a plan to get me over the phobia or at least through the long flight there.” “Oh? Zoe, are you dabbling in psychology now? Taking a step out of your music path?” Katrina arched her brow, a teasing smile on her lips. “I am the daughter of a doctor. I’ve picked up a few things.” Zoe shrugged. “Internal medicine. Not psychology, piccolo uccello.” Damon tutted. “I still know a few things, such as exposure therapy. And I can offer methods that no therapist ever could.” Zoe smirked, tossing a wink in my direction as her hand rubbed my thigh, grazing my dick through my jeans.

“But I’m precise. I don’t forgive incompetence.” The room went silent. Graham gave a small chuckle, trying to soften it. “Direct. I like that.” Halfway through the discussion, my phone vibrated. Zoe. I glanced down before I could stop myself. Zoe: Thanks for the dessert. Are you trying to fatten me up? 🤔 A smile tugged at my mouth. Me: I wouldn’t dream of it. How was it? Zoe: Decadent 🤤 I typed:

I turned to my left and followed the sound. The sound led me to a large door that was left wide open. Peeking in, I saw Zoe slouched over a her laptop as she looked at the screen in total focus. Unlike her usual super model look that I was quite used to seeing, she was in baggy pajamas and her hair was up in a messy bun. I looked at the room and it had a shelf of books almost covering the wall on the right. The table that Zoe was occupying had a lot of plain papers next to her and she paused her typing for a moment so that she could scribble something on one of the papers with a pencil.

“I’m not staying locked inside like some fragile thing.” “You’re not fragile,” Zack said, softer now. “But you are a target.” That made her pause, because she knew it was true. Zoe closed her eyes briefly, then nodded once. “Fine. Tonight, I will stay. Tomorrow, we will go together.” Zack studied her. Then, “Together,” he agreed. Later that night, Zoe sat alone in her Luna office. The Book of Life lay open in front of her; the pages had changed; they weren’t blank anymore. Faint writing—ancient and shifting—glowed softly under the light. Zoe leaned closer. Her breath caught. Images flickered across the page.