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MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH FATE
When they eventually parted, it felt as though a tone had passed in the span of many superheated moments. Michael plodded to reclaim his capacity for rational study amid the whirling, lust- dazed storm of his mind. Questions, vague worries, transitory dubieties flirted around the hazy fringe of his psyche, no way relatively resolving into a coherent shape before dissolving formerly more under the searing brand of Isabella's closeness. " We should." he rasped out, the sound of his voice little further than clay and sin,” We should go to a private place to talk. It is so important I need to ask you to understand." Isabella incontinently shook her head, that unruly groaner mane swaying with the vehement stir," No talking, no questions. Not yet." With passionate insistence, she pressed herself indeed more completely against him until her supple angle smouldered to every tense manly angle. The undulating warmth of her body burned a raging conflagration in Michael's blood, his hands dispe
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH CONFESSIONS
‘You mean he rejected your proposal?’ Diana paced around the room, as if looking for something. It was getting late and it was Liam’s house but she was not willing to leave yet because of the matter at hand. Michael had decided to go with a newcomer to the city, Mr. Samuel Pearson as his business partner and investor in his business. ‘Yes he did. Can you imagine that?’ Liam said. He sprayed his arms on the sofa like he wasn’t pissed off and shouting, a while ago. The waiter had gotten a basket-load of his anger when he brought dinner in. He had called Diana to the hotel for them to have a good time only for him to be greeted with news of Michael’s rejection of his business proposal.‘Something needs to be done. How can someone be so wicked?’ Diana said. She was still pacing, though Liam had tried to get her attention. He wanted them to get undressed and get into the bathtub together but she was not looking. At long last, Diana turned to him and said,‘What do you think we should d
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH A GAME OF ALLIANCES
Liam hasn’t returned my calls for six hours now. I have called him a couple of times. Is he avoiding me? Has he run away from New York City? Does he want to leave me with the baby?I scratched my head and sat on the floor. Liam cannot do this to me. He has to come and carry me; after all I am carrying his baby. I reach out for my phone ringing on the table, wishing he was the one. However, it is my landlady asking for rent. The fool should know I would give her soon.Then a thought entered my mind. I went to my bag and fished out a complimentary card. I had gotten it from Liam’s friend; the one he was always, who had flown into the country for an assignment. We had spoken a couple of times. He seemed really interested in me and since I like to draw attention, I basked in the spotlight he provided. He had asked me about the pregnancy and how I met Liam. I gave him a buttered-up story and he seemed to believe it. The last time we met, before his disappearance, he gave me this compliment
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH THE DELICATE SCENT OF TRUST
Clara remained stonily silent, her mind droning with the ruinous fallout of her failed meeting. Not only had Donald refused to invest- he'd gutted her particular and professional character with his harsh combination. How had he learned about the circumstances girding her divorce from Michael? More importantly, how could she avenge against such an important adversary? Because one thing was certain- Jonathan Donald had made an adversary this day. A revengeful, enduring adversary who would stop at nothing to make him pay. As her hostel suite came into view, Clara felt a rush of loathing so visceral, it stole her breath down. This was because of Michael. That snivelling, pathetic worm had orchestrated her downfall- she was sure of it. Well, no longer. It was time for Clara Robert to go on the attack. Settling in at her office, she began firing off a flurry of emails and calls to her vast network of connections and snitches in the Beaumont demi world. She'd uncover every last secret about
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH A LITTLE LIGHT AT THE END
A revengeful, enduring adversary who would stop at nothing to make him pay. As her hostel suite came into view, Clara felt a rush of loathing so visceral, it stole her breath down. This was because of Michael. That snivelling, pathetic worm had orchestrated her downfall- she was sure of it. Well, no longer. It was time for Clara Robert to go on the attack. Settling in at her office, she began firing off a flurry of emails and calls to her vast network of connections and snitches in the Beaumont demi world. She'd uncover every last secret about Michael West's unforeseen rise to power and influence. And once she had all the security she demanded? Michael would lament the day he ever crossed Clara Robert. Because in this megacity, treason was a one- way ticket to mutually assured destruction. While Clara colluded her vengeance against Michael and the Donald conglomerate, the man himself remained blissfully ignorant, luxuriating in the comforts of the lavish hostel suite Isabella had ha
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH A TWIST OF FATE
Clara’s face fell on hearing the news. She was sitting opposite her mother on the sofa of their small apartment. Mrs. Robert was stroking the back of Clara’s left palm as she spoke to her.“I loved him very much, mom.” She said with a voice near crying. “Is it wrong to love a man so much that you would do anything to make them happy?”“There is nothing wrong with it dear. He is the wrong one. You loved him and if he was too selfish to see it, it was his loss, not yours.”Clara burst into silent sobs. Her head was bowed, almost touching her mother’s lap.“You know that the doctor prescribed that you stay happy and positive as it will help you heal faster. You cannot be depressed now, at least not today.”“Mom, I know the stabs Peter inflicted on my back are not healed and will very soon heal but the emotional wounds hurt more. I feel I will never heal from them.”“ my dear. Don't ever say that. You will be whole and happy again, I promise you.”Mrs. Robert stretched her hand and rubbed
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH MORE CONSEQUENCES
Clara didn’t know what to do except to find her mother’s insurance company and report the missing document. There were no return emails or texts after the many calls and texts she had sent to the company’s front desk and it angered her. Then, she remembered something and jumped to her feet.Liam Wells sat at his desk looking into his screen and shaking his left leg. After every ten seconds, he would check his wristwatch, look at the door, and back to his computer screen. He almost jumped to his feet when the door opened.“What took so long?” his voice rocked the walls.“The front desk confirmed that no one by that name has entered this building.”Liam looked at Clara for a long time before dismissing her with a wave of the hand. As she turned, a lady approached the door and walked past her into the office. She wanted to protest but Liam was already on his feet and reached out to the lady. She closed the door behind them after an awkward few seconds realising she was the one he had bee
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH A POISONOUS AWARD
The following evening, Clara stood before the assessing wrought- iron gates of the Donald estate, steeling herself for the battle ahead. She cut an intimidating figure in her satiny burgundy dress and towering stilettos, every inch the power player ready to claim her due place among Beaumont's nobility. Liam cast her a reassuring regard as the gates swung open, granting them entry to the strictly manicured grounds." Just flash back what we bandied. Stay confident, do not let Donald rattle you." Clara gave a curt nod. She did not need his advice- she had been preparing for this moment her entire life. The woman of a fat businessman, prepped from birth to navigate Beaumont's savage social waters with cunning and grace. They were steered into a cavernous study, the walls lined with bottom- to- ceiling bookshelves and priceless vestiges. Behind an assessing mahogany office sat a tableware- haired man with cold, setting eyes. Jonathan Donald in the meat. "Ms. Robert," he said by way of gr
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