Natasha Nice Widow 소설 & 이야기

I had promised Sophia that we would spend the day together, but I knew that I couldn't abandon my wife on her special day. As we stood at the entrance of the grand ballroom, I couldn't help but be struck by Bridgette's elegance. She wore a stunning red gown that hugged her curves in all the right places. The dress was made of silk and chiffon, with intricate lace details that sparkled in the light. Her hair was styled in loose waves, and her makeup was subtle yet flawless. She looked like a true queen, and I couldn't help but feel proud to be her husband.

“You think you can get away from me that easily? Just wait until I catch you. You’ll regret it.” Tristan felt his pride trampled by the woman who had seemed so weak and helpless just the night before. Now he’d been humiliated, and the only way to soothe himself was to get her back—no matter what. After all, he had bought her. No one else was allowed to take what belonged to him. *** Tension filled the Redford household that morning. Brittany and Veronica bustled about, dressing in their finest clothes. Today, Carter’s lawyer—Pierre—was coming to read the will. Cordelia’s late father had left behind an inheritance they’d both been waiting for.

Someone suddenly says softly behind me and right then, I feel two arms wrapping around my waist. I turn sharply, seeing the culprit. Natasha Collins. Fuck. She is beautiful. Tall, blonde, and elegant in a white dress that probably costs more than most people's salaries. Her makeup is perfect. Her smile is perfect. Everything about her is perfect. But completely feels wrong to me. “Sebastian darling, I hve been waiting for you,” she says sweetly, leaning into me. “Natasha, I—” She tightens her arms around my waist and smiles wider. “I know these past few days have been difficult for you. But don't worry. I am here now. We are going to be so happy together.”

And the world shifted. Whispers rippled instantly. Not sympathy. Speculation. Calculation. Predators scenting something new in their territory. *** She walked forward anyway. Measured. Controlled. Perfect. Each step deliberate. Each breath timed. The casket stood ahead—mahogany, gold-trimmed, immaculate. Empty. A lie wrapped in luxury. “Goodbye, my love.” Her voice trembled just enough. The performance worked. “Such a convincing display.” The voice slid in beside her like a blade.

Trinity decided, getting up to do just that. Dmitri smiled softly at her. The woman always put others before herself, even if it was something as simple as giving them food she knew they'd like. Natalia squealed in delight, picking up the plate they'd set aside for them to eat and taking a bite happily. "Ffe aaar feecious," she said through a mouthful, and Trinity assumed she'd said 'these are delicious' for she thanked her, laughing a little. Valéry shook her head with a smile, picking a cookie for herself too.

To Elena, the hood jacket which was tight around her chest, the tight-fitting leather pants which stressed her heavily curved hips, and the long slimly built legs were deliberate temptations to the Catholic man. “Would you exercise a little more patience, Mister,” she said in a voice that conveyed much authority to the old man, who on sighting her, had pushed past Natasha, rushing up to her, and inquiring about his wife. Natasha, a woman of high status and power, perceived with admiration; the air of confidence and authority wielded by this woman, who Natasha was certain was the chief physician of the hospital. Natasha always felt a sense of connection when she saw women in positions of powe

Julia just said in disbelief after they found out what happened earlier and what Alex did. “I’m fine so please just don’t make it a big deal, okay? Now, just leave me alone for now because I just want to rest more,” Natasha simply said to her best friends and they just heaved a deep sigh and nodded at her then they already left her alone inside the room. When they are already gone, Natasha can’t contain her emotions anymore and the tears that she is preventing finally fall down from her eyes. She just cried silently inside the room because she is really hurt with the way her husband treats her over his ex-girlfriend. ___

"You're right. I've always been a bit nosey, and it's hard not to be with such a favorable match." "And why's that? Because a Dhampir like me should be so lucky as to have the hand of a Royal Moroi?" Natasha let out a small laugh. "Hardly," she raised an eyebrow and leaned forward like she had a secret. "Adrian is a lovely young man, more than lovely if you ask the high-and-mighty Tatiana. But I think we both know who the real prize in that deal was." She winked at me. Actually winked at me.

I nodded again and went through the wedding dresses that Priya sent me, she was doing an Indian wedding and I already told her that she should get us cool Indian dresses as bridesmaids. We stopped at the shop and went inside when an old lady came forward and hugged Nathan causing my eyebrow to raise. “Hey Natty... what are you doing here?” “Nat’s getting married Rosie. We are here to pick up a dress for her and a tux for myself.” She started cheering and then looked at me smiling. She came forward and pulled my cheeks. I smiled uncomfortably while Natty chuckled. “Who is this pretty lady?” “She is my wife, Anastasia.” The woman gleamed with happiness.

Natasha can't believe the gut of those two people, she would need to find a way to get rid of them sooner or later, but for now. She has more important things to think and worry about. Good thing Old Zachary is coming back home, he can at least knock some sense into that son of his, who's bent on getting married to a low life. She was destined to be Tristan's wife and nothing in this world can change that. "Mom, look. It's Mr Zachary and that bitch." Natalie called the attention of her Mom. She can't believe they are hanging out together like that. What does that stupid girl think she is to him? His wife?