Forever Yours [Complete]

Forever Yours

Copyright: Ruth Elias

All Rights Reserved

Copyright Infringement

This story: 'Forever Yours,' including all chapters, prologues, epilogues, and associated content is copyrighted under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act of 1988. All rights are reserved for the creator and owner of this work (Ruth Elias) and any unauthorized copying, broadcasting, manipulation, distribution or selling of this work constitutes as an infringement of copyright. Any infringement of this copyright is punishable by law.

Author's Note:

Forever Yours is under revision. Most of the chapters have already been rewritten so there should be something of a marked difference between the old and the new... If the writing seems uneven or choppy at times, I apologize in advance. Also, you may notice some of the scenes/conversations have been either changed or removed all together - hopefully the changes I've made can enhance the storyline and not impair it. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! :) 

BeautifulRose16

CHAPTER 1

Maureen Carvelli’s POV

I wobbled slightly as I carefully made my way down the huge, marble staircase leading from the front doors of our mansion to the driveway. The black stiletto heeled boots I wore were not material for staircases, as I was quickly learning. If I trip and die today…I blame you, Cara, I mentally berated my younger sister as I gripped the railing.

What’s wrong with jeans? When did jeans and converse ever go out of style? I had asked her that morning, staring forlornly at my favorite jeans and black converse. She had been too irritated to even respond; simply shoving the leather ankle boots and tight-fitting white designer pants into my arms. Put them on, she had commanded before throwing a black turtleneck at my face. I sighed. She was right, of course. I had an eleven o’ clock appointment with my father’s lawyers. Converse didn’t exactly fit the bill, as she so impatiently explained so many times.

As I stepped off the last stair, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had made it in one piece. I looked up, then, and immediately began gnawing on my bottom lip nervously. Right in front of me was parked my new, black limousine and leaning on the far side, the newly hired chauffeur. I felt self-consciousness flutter through me. As strange as it may seem, I wasn't comfortable with my new found status as the wealthy daughter of William Carvelli, the brilliant man and entrepreneur; founder of America's largest multilevel marketing company. I had been raised in poverty; wealth, while very appreciated, was entirely new and foreign. We had always been of the lower class; now, we were apparently on the high end of the social ladder. It was disconcerting, to say the least

Sucking in a tiny breath, I released my white-knuckled grip on the railing, and began walking towards the limo, stepping off the walkway onto the tarmac to make my way to the far side. I couldn’t see the limo driver’s face from here but he looked to be quite young from the back. I blinked in surprise as I drew closer. Weren’t chauffeurs stodgy old men with white hair and bellhop hats? No, that’s doormen... But this guy sure didn’t have white hair. Dark, messy hair curled up around his ears and neck and he wore the expected tuxedo. He was gazing off at our lake, probably watching the ducks swimming. The clicking of my heels alerted him to me approaching because he suddenly pushed himself off of the limo, drawing himself to his full height and turned to face me, sliding his hands into his pockets. I just managed to prevent my chin from dropping as he looked up.

He looked about nineteen or twenty. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looked down at me with an almost arrogant expression in his ocean-blue eyes. As I stared at him, it softened into something like surprise. 

He was the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen outside of a movie, that was for sure.

I tried to hide my initial shock as I gave him a tentative smile.

“Good morning, ma’am,” He spoke, his deep voice sending shivers up and down my spine.

It was a few seconds before I suddenly recalled that I was supposed to respond. I wasn’t sure what to say though; why was he calling me ma’am?