Beneath The Stars Emily Mcintire Novels & Stories

“But just know this is all you’re getting for a few days. I have a business trip.” He watched as she slowly crawled towards the bowl, shaking with each movement. Hanging her head low, her dry and matted hair hanging around her hollow face. Most of it had fallen out from malnutrition, but what she did have was a single, giant, tangle that could never be undone. As she reached the bowl, she sat down and looked at the man.

Meanwhile, the stranger said in an orderly tone: - And now slowly, so that I can see your every movement, get up from the ground and turn to me: I want to see the one whom I was ordered to destroy. Emily obeyed his order and began to rise slowly, without making sudden movements: she rested both hands on the ground, slightly rising and kneeling, then to rise. But Amy left out one detail: she was only wearing a T-shirt that Jer had given her so she could cover her nakedness. And at that moment, when the girl knelt down, this same T-shirt pulled up above her hips, revealing to the stranger her rounded and appetizing ... um ... in general, what was below her back.

"Are you the one managing Khione?" Maxine blinked, her professional mask slipping into pure awe. "I—yes. I'm Maxine. Mr. Chen, it’s such an honor—" "I’m sure," Arthur interrupted with a polite but bored smile. "I’m her friend, mind me if I borrowed her" Maxine’s brain went into overdrive. "Of course" Jake tried to chime in, wanting to be noticed by the icon standing before him. "Hey, Arthur, I’m Jake, her co-star—"

After the photoshoot, Scott made reservations at La Crockett. A five-star restaurant. “You shouldn’t wear tension on your face. Doesn’t suit you.” Scott said as they made their way into the restaurant. Emily ignored him. “You look beautiful, by the way.” “Thanks,” Emily said without looking at him. He’d expected her to be cold tonight. He’d managed to get her to come out with him, and that was enough. She only ever came to him when she needed his help or to spite her ex.

The rain hadn’t stopped all day. It drummed steadily against the penthouse windows, turning the skyline into a hazy watercolor of lights and shadows. Isabella sat at the kitchen counter with a book open in front of her, though she hadn’t read a single word in ten minutes. The smell of something cooking pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned toward the kitchen island and blinked. Matteo Moretti — mafia heir, ruthless negotiator, man of calculated danger — was standing in front of the stove, stirring a pot of sauce.

She didn't want to speak; she just followed Murray, soon arriving at the waterfall they had bathed at in the afternoon. Murray didn't stop there. He led her up the waterfall to a flat area on the mountaintop, pulling Emily to sit at the edge of a large rock. The sky was sprinkled with stars, and occasionally, a plane passed silently, its warm yellow and red lights streaking across the sky like shooting stars. Emily yawned lazily and leaned against his shoulder, "So you brought me here just to stargaze?" Murray turned his head towards her, his voice deep, "Are you disappointed?"

Lashe asked. “Because they help each other shine, none of them actually shines than the other” Ibukun replied and Lashe smiled. At first, he really didn’t understand but he understood better now. A lot of people had helped him shine, his fans, his grandma, Uncle Sam, everyone around him and most important Ibukun. “There’s why you’ll never hear a star in the night sky” Ibukun added as she sighed and continued talking. “They always say STARS IN THE NIGHT SKY” THE END.

“I know you’re not elated about moving here, but I want you to have an open mind about Greg and his son Ryder. Ryder’s a bit older than you and he’s a little… intense, but I feel like both of you would get along just fine.” Sure. Because bonding with some moody stranger was exactly what I needed. “Cool,” I said, which meant: I don’t care. “I’ll let you settle in before dinner. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs,” she said, placing the mug on my bedside table before leaving. A minute after she left, my phone buzzed. Charlotte Calling… I swiped immediately. “Tell me you’re not already sobbing on marble floors,” she said instead of hello. “You’re not far off,” I muttered.

As Drew pulls me closer and kisses me softly under the faint shimmer of lights, I can’t help but think… How could a man so sweet have been hiding beneath the surface all this time? THE END

“Emily, Emily, Emily!” Her name echoed through the buzzing crowd, a symphony of admiration from excited voices. She strode elegantly along the crimson carpet, her poise commanding attention as cameras flashed in rapid succession. The world seemed to pause for her; every journalist, photographer, and fan vied for her attention. Emily Petals was no longer just another actress; she was a star—a beacon of grace and talent in the entertainment industry. “Emily, let’s take a picture,” her manager, Rachel, urged, pulling her gently to a waiting photographer.