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2020-10-29 00:28:29LUCY'S POV
"I get it," he nods slowly with a thinking look on his face. "You don't want to lose to me, it's alright though. Girls love it when I call them pet names. . . Don't you Blondie? Oh, I'm sorry, love!" He had the audacity to smirk.
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Latest chapter
Falling for the bad girl epilogue
Years passed, and the seasons turned like the pages of a beloved book, each one rich with memories and laughter. Cole and I settled into married life, our days woven together with the threads of love, adventure, and shared dreams. Our home, a cozy little haven infused with art and creativity, became a reflection of our journey. Colorful paintings adorned the walls—each one telling a unique story, a snapshot of our life together. The studio where I once painted alone transformed into a shared space, bursting with the vibrant chaos of collaboration. We often spent evenings sketching ideas, laughing, and talking about everything and nothing at all, often with the scent of freshly brewed coffee hanging in the air. Our relationship, like my art, blossomed even further. We learned the beauty of patience, the power of communication, and the art of compromise. We traveled to different corners of the world—each trip an adventure filled with new sigh
Falling for the bad girl forty
[Lucy] As I met Cole at our favorite café—the place where we had spent countless hours imagining our futures—a familiar warmth enveloped us. The sunlight filtered through the café windows, casting golden rays that danced across the wooden table where we now sat, both buzzing with our achievements and exciting developments in our lives. “Can you believe how far we’ve come?” Cole mused, meeting my gaze with that softness that had become an anchor in my life. “I know,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion. “It feels surreal, and yet, it feels like the most natural progression. We’ve both chased our dreams, and look where we are now!” Cole smiled, an expression filled with admiration and quiet pride for me. “You’re incredible, Lucy. Your work is inspiring countless artists and creators. You’re leaving your mark on the world, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.” My heart fluttered at
Falling for the bad girl thirty nine
[Lucy] Years had flown by in a blur of colors and creativity, each moment brimming with inspiration and growth. I had thrived in art school, where the seeds of my passions had blossomed into a vibrant career. My dream of becoming a known figure in the art industry had materialized, and the sketches I once created in solitude transformed into gallery exhibits that sparked conversations and ignited imaginations. From my early days of uncertainty to becoming a recognized artist, my journey had taken me through bustling art fairs, collaborative installations, and personal showcases that highlighted not just my work, but also the stories and emotions behind each piece. Through hard work and dedication, I had gained a voice in a world that valued art's power to connect us and open our minds to new perspectives. But amidst the whirlwind of my success, the familiar tug of home had grown stronger, and now, after years of living
Falling for the bad girl thirty eight
[Lucy] With summer stretching out before me like a blank canvas, a renewed sense of purpose settled into my heart. The initial apprehension about moving so far from home faded away, replaced by a burgeoning excitement for what lay ahead. I had a chance to immerse myself in the world of art, to learn, grow, and discover parts of myself I’d never encountered before. As the days passed, I dove into preparations for my new journey. Packing was a labor of love; I selected pieces of my life that felt right to take along—my favorite sketchbooks, a few beloved novels, and a collection of photographs filled with memories of laughter, friendship, and love. Each item became a reminder of where I had come from and the bonds I intended to keep strong despite the distance that would soon separate me from my childhood home. Meanwhile, Cole continued to be my unwavering support. Every day after school, we would meet at the park, basking
Falling for the bad girl thirty seven
[Lucy] The day of the final exams arrived, casting an air of excitement and anticipation over the entire school. It felt like the sun itself was celebrating, flooding the campus with golden rays that amplified the laughter and chatter among students. As Cole, Tamara, and I emerged from the school's main entrance, our faces beamed with joy, the last remnants of stress slipping away like morning mist. "I can't believe it's finally over!" I exclaimed, my heart racing with the liberation that came after weeks of studying and worrying. I tossed my books into my bag with an exuberance that felt almost like flying. "Best. Day. Ever!" Tamara squealed, her curls bouncing as she jumped up and down in her excitement. "I feel like we can do anything now!" Cole chuckled, his arm draped casually around my shoulders, anchoring me to solid ground amidst the swirling energy of jubilation. "I can't believe we survived, hones
Falling for the bad girl thirty six
[Lucy] The plan to take down Viktor wasn't straightforward. It required precision, patience, and a level of coordination that pushed our makeshift family to its limits. Tamara' and Kevin's digital investigation uncovered a complex web of connections. Corrupt cops, underground money laundering, trafficking networks—Viktor's operation was more than just a simple criminal enterprise. It was a hydra, with multiple heads that needed simultaneous attack. "We can't just go to the authorities," Tamara explained, spreading digital files across her laptop. "Half of them are on Viktor's payroll." Cole, still recovering but increasingly restless, became the strategist. His background—something he rarely discussed—proved invaluable. "We need to hit their financial infrastructure," he said, studying the maps and connection diagrams Tamara had created. I guess there's still a lot I don't know about Cole and Tamara.
Falling for the bad girl thirty five
[Lucy] The moment that text came through, everything stopped. Time, breath, rational thought-all of it suspended in a single, terrifying moment. I called Michael immediately. His voice was a raw mixture of panic and desperation. "Lucy, what do we do? They have Sophie!" "We need to stay calm," I said, surprised by the steadiness in my voice. Inside, I was shattering. "Has anyone contacted the police?" "I can't," Michael whispered, and in that moment, I heard something deeper-fear beyond losing Sophie. "There are... complications." Before I could press further, Cole and Tamara burst through my front door. I'd called them without even realizing it, my survival instincts kicking into autopilot. "Talk," Cole demanded, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something harder, more dangerous. I showed them the text. Tamara, always analytical, came up with the idea of tracing the number. She made a call and within some seconds, they called back. "Burner phone," she muttered. "Purchased
Falling for the bad girl thirty four
[Lucy]As the picnic wound down and Sophie's flower crown began to wilt, I felt a strange sense of emotional exhaustion settling over me. Cole and Tamara had been quietly observing from a distance, giving us space while remaining close enough to offer support if needed.I caught Cole's eye, and he raised an eyebrow—a silent question asking if I was okay. I managed a small nod, more to reassure myself than him.Dad—and it still felt strange to think of him that way—began packing up the picnic supplies. Sophie helped, her enthusiasm turning even the most mundane task into a game. She carefully folded napkins, her tiny hands moving with a concentration that made me smile despite myself."We should do this again," Dad said carefully, his tone tentative. "Maybe next weekend?"Before I could respond, Sophie jumped in. "Can Cole and Tamara come too?" she asked, looking up at me with those wide, hopeful eyes that seemed impossible to resist.I glanced at my friends. Cole looked amused, while
Falling for the bad girl thirty three
[Lucy] After the heavy heart-to-heart, the air between us felt a little lighter. With Sophie’s playful giggles echoing across the park, I found myself caught up in her infectious joy. “Are you ready to play tag?” I asked, smiling down at her as she bounced on her feet, brimming with excitement. “Yay!” she squealed, clapping her hands together. “You can’t catch me!” “I can try!” I called out, springing to my feet and chasing after her. The moment I bolted, Sophie squealed and took off, her yellow dress swirling around her as she dashed through the grass, her laughter ringing like bells. Dad watched from the sidelines, a proud smile plastered across his face as he cheered us on. I could see how much Sophie adored him, and it made my heart ache a little more. Here they were, creating a bond without the shadows of what had come before. As I chased Sophie, I felt a rush of warmth, momentarily forgetting everything else. For those blissful minutes, the laughter and squeals created
