Natasha Nice Widow 소설 & 이야기

she sighed, stepping forward with a small grin, her gaze dropping to Rocco, who took a quick step away from her. “Lucky you, then,” she added, winking at Rocco. Rocco’s eyes widened, looking like he was about to bolt, his hands flexing at his sides. “I guess I’ll have to leave empty-handed,” Natasha said with exaggerated sadness as she walked toward the rugged steps. Then she paused, turning her head over her shoulder, her long hair catching the light as she gave Rocco a slow, deliberate wink before sauntering down the steps toward the waiting car where Don Nikolai stood.

On our wedding night, my wife, who almost never drank, got wasted because she was supposedly too happy. Just when I didn't know what to do, my best friend sent me a long message explaining how to take care of her. I blushed, but I still followed his instructions and soothed her the way he described. Natalie, who had been making a scene, miraculously quieted down. But just as I was about to call my friend and thank him, Natalie suddenly hugged me from behind. Heartbroken, she whispered, "Ashton Hawke, you're the one I wanted to marry." As she said it, the tattoo near her heart slipped into view: a hawk with its wings spread wide. My mind went blank. Ashton Hawke was my best friend of

"Get up, wife. I'm hungry, let's eat downstairs. I've reserved a seat. Come on." After showering, I put my hair down and then curled the bottom of it. I only wore white off shoulder with gold necklace, blue fitted jeans and flat shoes to match him. I belive that later some woman will approach him, thinking he was single so it would be better if we were wearing the same clothes. I caught up with him in the living room talking to a woman. She looks familiar. Suddenly, my vision darkened and my head felt hot. Who is this caterpillar?

Neola ushered Elle inside the convertible and drove off in a haste. I was about to call for Joe and ask him about this when the female news reporter speak, 'As you can see, we had just witness Mrs. Elleana Cassidy West, wife of the famous businessman and owner of Greene-West Industries, Mr. Gabriel Hugo West, shopping with her husband's sister, Neola Dana West for baby's clothes. We did not hear about Mrs. West for a while and it seems that she’s been keeping us out of the box! Who would know that in a few months there will be a newborn billionaire for one of the greatest corporation of this decade?'

“Keep your voice down, Jeremy! I am the one at fault, not him. I guess my marriage is doing more harm than good these days.” Jeremy heaved a loud sigh and touched her hand as she cleared her table. “We’d talk better online, okay? I’m sorry this had to happen to you.” Natasha nodded and swiped her nose with her hand. “Thank you, Jeremy. Text me when you’re done working.” She carried her bag and hung it on her shoulders as she turned to leave the large office. Jeremy stood behind her, staring at her with great pity. * Natasha Jones was a thirty-one year old elegant lady, with a majestic and seductive aura. She studied accounting in the university and also had a master’s degree in it, which hel

"Isn't it exciting? Rumor has it that Lord Cyrus has set out a huge amount of money so that his only daughter, Cynthia, will enjoy her big day." I felt like I was struggling to breathe, but Zoe didn't seem to notice. She continued to talk about the wedding and how she wished she could have that kind of wedding herself. "Natasha, are you okay?" Zoe looked at me concerned. "I'm tired." "Okay, I think it's time for me to leave so that you can get some rest," she said. She helped me lie down and then collected my empty plate. She stared down at me with concern painted on her face.

He had to hear this. He picked up on the third ring. “Josh?” His voice sounded heavy with sleep. “Leo, wake up,” I said, still laughing. “You’re not going to believe what just happened.” He groaned. “You sound drunk. What now?” “I saw Slyvester’s wife Natasha today. She used to be my ex,” I said proudly, leaning back. “She came to me. You hear that? She came to me. Handed me money like the old days. Told me she wants out from Sylvester.”

The name landed like a landmine. “Who’s Natasha?” Isabella asked again, but this time softer. Like a fear that had found its voice. Isabella blinked. “Who’s Natasha?” Damian didn’t answer. Eva turned to Isabella. “Ask him what happened to the last girl who trusted him. Ask him… what he did to her.” She paused in the doorway, her voice a whisper. “Then decide if you still want to be the next one.” The door shut quietly behind her. Silence.

She watched me silently clear away the cold food and said indifferently, "I already told you I wasn't coming home. What's with that expression?" I stayed quiet. She used to say she did not want anything fancy for the holidays, just a homemade meal from me. Nonetheless, that was a long time ago. People would change, and clearly, she had forgotten everything she once said. As the heiress of the Bates family, Natasha had men constantly pursuing her even after our marriage. She had always ruthlessly rejected them all. Yet, Stanley was different. He was her childhood friend and male best friend, a few years younger than her, with youthful energy that effortlessly drew her attention.

“So, is this the other reason for your visit? You would rather have me, not an arranged one.” “No offence to your cousins, but I’d rather have the OG black widow. She knows what I’m like, what I like and knows how to keep up, plus I know how deadly she can be. She may not want to be in the life, but she would make a perfect Donna.” He says, flashing an all-knowing smirk, making me roll my eyes and smile. His expression changes to a serious one. “Eva, it may be time to let everyone know. I know your uncle was a nasty motherfucker and all that, but…”