Denise Siapa Novels & Stories

Candice didn’t respond. Sophia beside her was also watching intently. Judging from Caroline’s expression, this clearly wasn’t an act. Did that woman truly reveal her secret? Speak to her deepest fear? Her secret... her fear... Candice and Sophia exchanged a sharp glance— Mia? No, it wasn’t her. The age and body shape were wrong. Then she must be—Denise! The woman who rescued Mia, stole the Jackson family secrets, and now returned to stir chaos under the alias “Mrs. Lawrence”... Denise!

She was the warrior who followed Sabrina around. I should've known that Andy was a liar. He and Sabrina were working together. What did I expect from pervert? I knew he couldn't be trusted. 'Did you thinj the blocker made you invisible, special one' she bared her fangs in an evil smile. 'I don't believe we've been formally introduced. I'm Denise Lane. A warrior of the Ruby-' 'Out of my way!' I barked. She smiled again. Or snarled. I couldn't really tell.

At the question, her hand shook, and the berry fell. "You know her?" Rebecca understood at once. Denise put down the fork and sighed. "Ugh, now the tarts don't even taste sweet. How do you know her? She didn't come to France, did she?" Not only had she come, but she was in Rebecca's troupe. "Looks like she's already started bothering you," Denise said with a knowing look. "She is our neighbor, a little older than me. She's liked Desmond since we were kids. When he started dancing, she did too.

he finished and waited. No one came forward and Denise couldn't let this play out any longer. She had them all called there so that they could witness the punishment of the one who thought that they could subbotage her. "Okay. Since no one is willing to come out, I have something to show you all. Give me a moment," she said as she walked towards the TV. She took her phone cable and connected her phone to the television and switched it on. She then scrolled to the video and it

“I understand. But you have to eat. For the baby.” I looked at her again really looked at her. The long time housemaid of the De Silvas, Denise had always kept to herself. Quiet, respectful, and almost invisible in the way only trusted house staff can be. She had been here long before I arrived, and now I realized she had seen everything. “Manang Silva?” I asked, hesitantly. “Yes, Ma’am?” “Do you know… did you know Cassandra?” She stilled. That brief hesitation, that flicker of grief in her eyes it was enough to confirm what I’d guessed.

She sensed Gael's bad mood and cautiously said, “There’s a Ms. Denise who wants to see you, Mr. Gael.” Who was Denise? Gael initially had no intention of meeting anyone. His mind was elsewhere. However, Grace added, “She says she is Keaton’s sister-in-law.” Was Denise that bastard's sister-in-law as well as Ella's mother? Gael felt a flicker of interest. He wanted to see her and compare her to Emilia. That would help him figure out what common traits such venomous homewreckers possessed. So, he replied in a calm voice, “Please let her in.”

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Denise extended her hand to Gabrielle and declared, "I earnestly hope that you will not let me down, Miss Taylor." Gabrielle thought about it. She at least appreciated Denise's honesty. She had heard about this Denise Jones. The lady was already in her early thirties and a single mother of one child. She used to manage one famous singer, named David Starr. As soon as David reached the pinnacle of success, he dismissed Denise as his manager, purposely discredited her so she could no longer take a new artist. Denise rapidly disappeared from the entertainment industry, only to return recently after raising a child on her own for four years.

Sarah whispers, but I am close enough to hear. Elaine nods her head as she continues to cry. "Elaine, we haven't gotten to speak to each other before..., but my name is Denise... I lost my son to suicide. He was only fifteen. If you ever need someone to talk to...you call me—any hour. Day or night, I don't care, honey. No mother should have to bury her child...but don't lose faith, sister. Our father has a plan. He does," a plump woman who I have known since I was born says.

Morgan just looked at her with empathy. ****** Denise, alone in her room, struggled to fall asleep. Morgan's revelation repeatedly resurfaced in her mind, igniting a tempest of long-suppressed pain and heartache. All she felt was a deep, burning hatred for him. She couldn't forgive him for what he'd done. Lost in her thoughts, Denise's phone rang. It was her private investigator. She answered quickly, eager to hear any news.