Agnes Sampson Novels & Stories

He was not about to underestimate another crazy woman with again. “Well, of course. I want to make this clean. Do you know how hard it is to clean blood of these floors? The whole place is so old they just get into places you can’t reach.” Miss. Agnes let out an annoyed sigh. “But. I don’t mind doing it dirty either. I know you and I both don’t want that, right?” She returned to her smile. “Time’s wasting. If I don’t give them the antidote in three hours, they’ll die you know.” Miss Agnes seemed to be losing her patience. She narrowed her eyes as her tone grew heavier. With a deep breath, Anderson nodded his head. Miss. Agnes seemed pleased. She smiled and took a few steps back to allow Ande

But I don't know who she is. With a confused expression, I demand her identity. "Who are you?" "Samantha, ma'am. One of the helps around the boss's home," she replies coolly, her beady eyes boring into mine, sincerity lacing her voice. Just like Agnes, she seems warm. But then again, where's Agnes? I'm still lost in my thoughts when she adds, "Boss insists you have this for breakfast, given how much you drank last night. I must say, ma'am, you're quite a drunkard."

Samuel entered into the room where Grace sat, she had a stick of cigarette in her hands and her usual glass of wine at the order. "So tell me Samuel what's the update? what did you discover about the new maid in my son's house ? Grace asked. "Madam the maid is called Samantha, and she happens to be Agatha's daughter. I discovered that Agatha has been ill and her daughter Samantha had to work in for her while she goes on for her treatments. So the girl working in your son's house happens to be Agatha's only daughter . " Oh I see ! What do you think of her ? I hope she doesn't have any evil plans towards my son?, Grace asked.

Agnes smiled and said, "What's the point of overthinking that? If this opportunity slips past me, I will still have other chances. I just need money, but I'm not in a hurry to spend any." She picked up another grape and stuffed it into her mouth. She continued to look at Waverly, "You are...the ex-wife of the president of A Country, Waverly Martell?" Waverly paused. So far, she was the first person who recognized her. She asked, "Do you know me?" Agnes laughed, "I've watched your live broadcast. I could tell that you had been framed. My eyes are quite sharp when it comes to judging people."

Hellen saw Agnes pacing back and forth at the hotel entrance earlier and dared not enter. She believed Agnes was just pretending to have the money. She turned to her son-in-law and said, “Sam, let’s go make the deposit. It’s a waste of time trying to argue with someone who doesn’t even dare to go into the hotel. Only money makes the world go round.” “Alright. I'll make the necessary reservation.” Sam Faye did not even look at Agnes or Kaze and headed into the hotel.

Mrs Angela asked as she stared askance at Daisy Hunter. Glaring back at Mrs Angela, Daisy's countenance changes from happiness to a mixture of concern and bewilderment. "No, I'm Wade's fiancée," Daisy said, her voice laced with trepidation. "You…my son's fiancée?…aren't you his Secretary at the office?" "Yes, I am ma." Daisy Hunter replied, her gaze intent on Mrs Angela. Staring askance at Daisy, Mrs Angela's gaze was laced with venom. "This can't be." Mrs Angela said as she flung the door shut at Daisy's face.

Through this, I learned something dark and scary about her. Nowadays, my step mom was known far and wide as the incumbent CEO of Ironscapes. Mathilde Angeles, was a distinguished personality in the world of business, to say the least, which were all thanks to her closed affiliation with the biggest tycoon of all time, the Nordstorme's family. But according to the official name registry that my hired detective acquired, she was also formerly known as Agnes Scoth and was actually a criminal on Interpol's blacklist.

He made a mental note to have drinks with Beta Sam to catch up, to know what was in his heart and what troubled him, if anything did. Beta Sam was hardly inside his office when he was summoned at the gate by the guards, they said that a woman had come for Agnes, the refugee. She claimed to be her younger sister and they needed permission before letting her in. Beta Sam consented, he was glad that something had come up in his free time to prevent him from thinking about his mate who ran away from him without even sparing him a glance.

Her makeup was flawless, hair gleaming, lips curved in that faint, knowing smile that said she already owned the room. Seeing his face sent ice through my veins. Last night flashed behind my eyes—his grip on my throat, the crack of his hand, the way he’d looked at me like I was something he could break and walk away from. Yet here he sat: composed, polite, every inch the gentleman no one would ever suspect of violence. Agnes’s eyes flicked to Ella. “I did not extend an invitation to her.” Ella’s voice came soft, almost wounded. “Samuel, if I’m causing trouble, I’ll leave. I’d never want to make things difficult.”

“We just live in the same house.” Agnes let out a small, mocking laugh. “Don’t insult my intelligence. The way Liam looks at you—that’s not normal.” Anna fell silent, her words caught in her throat. “And this red mark,” Agnes added, brushing Anna’s hair aside to expose her neck. “How shameless.” Anna met her gaze steadily. “You’re mistaken. I have no intention of taking anything from you.” “Intentions don’t change facts,” Agnes snapped. “Your position remains the same. You’re just living here out of charity. Don’t forget that.”