Best Patricia Highsmith Novels & Stories

The same person who almost hacked an entire arm off her body. I hadn’t seen her since. At some point, a couple approached me—perfect teeth, crisp blazers, the kind of couple that makes you want to check your credit score before you shake their hands. The man looked at me like he was assessing an acquisition. The woman—Patricia, I remembered after a beat—smiled with the kind of practiced warmth that meant she’d already decided to hate me, but didn’t want it to show until morning. “Sofia, darling!” Patricia’s voice was a glass of chardonnay: sweet at first, but you knew it would give you a headache in the morning.

“You are right, maybe i am here for closure before i go ahead to complete obliterate your ass—it was a worrying threat now. Once is a joke but not so much the second time. But that was the type of person Patricia was, all jokes with the best sense of humor he’d ever seen. She also had a beautiful face and an amazing body, and had accustomed herself to this flashy lifestyle unlike Isabella. He could see how hard she was trying and when he did look around in search for her, he figured she might have escaped. Maybe for some fresh air or some time alone.

Peony questioned with a smirk. Patricia chuckled, “Is there any one more qualified than the mother in-law of the wealthiest man in the states?” The women started to mumble within themselves again, until one of them spoke. “What are you yapping about, Patricia?” “You all said you want someone who can give you access to fancy eateries and bars, didn’t you?” “Yes? And?” “And I have all the influence needed to do that since my daughter is married to the richest man in the states. I bet you all know Raymond Beckham” Patricia paused to see if the name sounded familiar.

Kaden Ansel was quiet all through the drive to Patrica’s place, ignoring both Grey and I’s conversations and poorly thought through jokes, but the second we got down from the car, and Patrica came out of her home to welcome us, his game face was on. Patrica was a beautiful witch, with eyes filled with mischief. She was a short curvy girl with a body to die for and if Ansel didn’t already have her, I would certainly want to have her. Although sharing wasn’t bad, but I have a feeling Patricia had feelings for Ansel.

Patricia could not help herself but smile a little as soon as she finished texting her girlfriend, ignoring the strange gaze from her editor, a curt man of Korean descent named Park Jinhee. "Already completed with your business? Then, could we resume the discussion, Miss Patricia Caroline?" The man's cold smile along with the way he called her by her full name, managed to make her tense up instantly. Immediately, she placed the smartphone on her desk, then sat with her legs crossed, leaning her legs towards Park to make it appear that she was enthusiastic about listening to the man's discussion seriously. Even though given to the fact that she really wanted to immediately kick the man out of

“Ah, there you are, girls!” As we glanced back, Patricia and a small group of classmates entered the room. Patricia had quite the reputation at school, although it wasn’t for her intelligence. She gained notoriety for her unapologetic and self-assured demeanor, exuding an air of intimidation and self-importance. “What is it that you desire, Pat?” Ryan asked. Ryan tried to push me away from Patricia, but Patricia was the one who approached me most of the time. Patricia said, “Well, I simply wanted to invite you to my birthday celebration on Friday.”

Patricia had been watching us all this time? “But she’s dead,” I whispered, voice barely holding steady. “So who’s still doing this?” Martinez flipped a page in his notebook, his eyes meeting mine. “We found one more thing in her files. Patricia had another daughter. Not Rebecca. A secret daughter she never admitted to. Her name is Diana Moore. She lives right here in the city.” He paused, the silence stretching. “And she works at Evan’s school. As his teacher’s aide.”

Was it just a coincidence? As soon as they arrived, Anna spotted the woman sitting across from Lorenzo. Patricia. Her lifelong rival. Today, Patricia wore a Chanel-style suit, showing off her long legs. She rested her chin on one hand, subtly pressing her chest together. One glance from across the table would reveal an inviting view. Anna laughed softly. “Looks like someone got here first.” Asher shrugged. “No big deal. If he didn’t even fall for a beauty like you, Patricia is nothing. She’s an A at best. Probably stuffed at least two pads in there to squeeze out a C. Lorenzo won’t like that.”

The filing system on his laptop that he hadn't known needed a filing system until she created one and he realized he had been looking for things for years without finding them. He learned that she cried at documentaries about animals and would deny it immediately afterward. He learned not to mention it. They learned each other. Properly. Slowly. Without anything ancient pressing against the walls. It was the best thing Evelyn had ever done. Clara's chapter was finished by the end of the first month. Then the chapter about the woman whose name she had found in a local newspaper archive from 1956. Patricia. A schoolteacher from Birmingham who had bought Harrow Hill as a summer property and had

Patricia added, pouting in feigned sympathy. "What did you do, Pat?" Marcella asked, intrigued. She shrugged innocently and smiled. "Did what any good citizen would do—gathered evidence against her and handed it over to the police. The next day, the prison became her new home. Now, onto the second one," Patricia paused, taking a meatball into her mouth and chewing it slowly before continuing. "She was really pretty, damn pretty, but I killed her." Patricia sighed sadly, her eyes fixed on her food as she toyed with it using her fork.