Blakely Laurent...
She was gorgeous in every way. Lived a life of pure luxury as an heiress. She grew up in New York, but moved to Paris when she was 14, and primarily lived with her father. Her father was Leonardo Laurent, he owned more hotels than...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Blake POV The bright light coming in from the window was not helping my current hangover. I have the faintest recollection of last night. The last thing I remember was arriving at some club, then coming home and collapsing on my bed, everything in between is a blur. My eyes had started to adjust and I was welcomed with the view of my hotel room. My entire life I have never lived in a house, I've always stayed in hotels. I check the time on my phone, it was only 7am. I pushed the covers off my body, and went to get dressed. I slipped on a blue dress and combed my hair. After brushing my teeth and applying some makeup, I made my way to the restaurant in the lobby of the hotel for breakfast. I saw my father sitting alone at our usual table. My parents got a divorce when I was seven years old. I stayed with my dad in this hotel during the week, and during the weekend I stayed with my mom at the hotel less than 20 miles from here. I have two rooms, two closets, two healthy parents, life was genuinely amazing. Both my parents did a lot of business in America. I spent every Summer in New York. I spoke much more English than French. I would say 80% English and 20% French described my language life. Even though I went to school in Paris our teachers spoke little French, they were all diplomats from England, they were also incredibly uninteresting.
"Good morning." my father says.
My father is my favorite person, he has all the qualities I strive to have. He's successful, determined, kind, extremely smart, and generous. I sat down at the table, and began to eat my fruit bowl and croissant that was waiting for me. I begin to respond to some texts from last night while I eat.
"Good morning." I say.
"Blake darling we need to have a somewhat serious talk." He tells me.
"Okay." I set my phone down.
"Blake I know your a smart girl, but you can't act so irresponsible when you know it could show up on the media. My assistant came to me with a picture that would no doubt be plastered all over tabloids if I hadn't taken care of it. It was you and Grant Arnold's son partying at a random club. One, you can't be out late on school nights, and two, Jeremy Arnold is a little shit. I'm disappointed I thought we just talked about this." He said firmly
I guess a father can only tolerate so much.
"I am very sorry I'll do better. I don't know how they get so many pictures of me" I say annoyed.
He didn't look convinced.
"Blake you always say you wish for privacy. The academy your currently attending isn't providing it. I know there have been incidents where pictures have been taken while you were at school. I doubt these incidents will never happen again." he says with a worried expression.
