Forever ( In Progress)
- Reads 544
- Votes 38
- Parts 15
MatureOngoing1h 33m
Last published Mon, Apr 8, 2019
"He promised me "forever" and i was too naive to believe him."
Meet Scarlett Wilson..carrying worst scar on her heart. Now with the motive to forget about her past and to become successful in her life without getting too much attached to anyone especially boys ( playboys).
Well fate has another plans for her..just wait until Zion wenderson comes in the picture.
Zion Wenderson. Just a name can make girls go weak on their knees. Yeah he's devilishly handsome. With sharp jaws, piercing eyes. Broad shoulders, 6'2. Multi billionaire. He has has everything a person can only dream of. With luxurious lifestyle, hanging girls on his each arms. In short he's a complete package.
Damm but he's a spoiled brat. Who thinks he can buy everything with his money and looks. Egoistic, heartbreaker, jerk, devil etc etc.
Wait until Scarlet Wilson comes in the picture.
well this is going to be interesting.(wink)
Hey guys this is my first try and Jesus I'm really nervous. I'll try my best to entertain you guys. Please support me. I really need your support guys. And please please please vote me?. There are going to be mistakes so feel free to correct it since English isn't my native language. Please spare your precious glance please. I love you all❤❤. Please comment and vote.?.
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A scent. A scar. A slow-burning fucking romance dressed as nostalgia. It started with a fruit. Not love, not sex - a goddamn strawberry. The kind that looks like it's been kissed by every shade of red your childhood never had. He didn't share it. Didn't speak of it. Just tasted it once, and carried the ache ever since. Years later, she walked in - smelling exactly like that forgotten sweetness. Not perfume. Not fantasy. Just... truth. Sharp, quiet, terrifying truth. The kind that crawls under your skin and whispers remember me when you least want to. He lied to her face. About himself. About the million ways he'd already started unraveling. But she knew. Women like her always know. She stared at him like sin dressed in judgment - and touched his wrist like she already owned his pulse. And he? He was fucked. Because she wasn't just beautiful. She was red. That memory. That craving. And no matter how much he pretended to be in control - she was already in his bloodstream. This isn't a love story. It's a slow possession. By scent. By memory. By her. And it ends exactly how it starts - with him on his knees, and her smelling like fucking strawberries.
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