Dolores Claiborne Novel Novels & Stories

Irene nodded tearfully, “Second Sister-in-law, it’s a long story.” Dolores smiled gracefully, “It's good you are alive. Only by living can you do what you want to do.” Dolores’s eyes also reddened. She felt like she was dreaming. She had resented Irene. During the time her husband disappeared, she had met Irene. But now that she knew the truth, she didn't resent anyone. In the days ahead, she hoped to live peacefully and smoothly. After Irene introduced Amanda, Benjamin, and Gilbert to Dolores, Dr. Abbot returned to his room to eat, leaving them to their family reunion.

Still, my mind wouldn’t rest. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Diego. The way his body shifted into something terrifying and magnificent, the feral light in his gaze, the storm he had carried into our courtyard. But in those same fragmented memories, there was also something else—a flash of silver fur near me, a presence that felt protective rather than threatening. It didn’t fit the story my mother had woven. On the fifth day, Grace came. The door creaked open and her familiar figure slipped inside, bringing with her the comfort of normalcy I hadn’t realized I craved. She looked nervous, her dark hair braided back hastily, her eyes wide when they fell on me.

Dolores merely smiled, seemingly unbothered by the flames burning within Clara's eyes. "You heard me, princess. This time, you are stuck. No plotting, no fleeing. You are no different than the others. Words that stabbed like daggers and made Clara lose her control. Snarling, she attacked Dolores, her fingers scrabbling to grip the prison uniform collar. Chaos erupted in the cell as the two women wrangled, pushing and clawing at each other with ferocity that made echoes all around the block.

“I bet she doesn’t even know how to make a bed. And still thinks she’s all that. Oh, but with me here… I’ll show who really deserves to be in this house.” Cristina ran her hand over the messy sheets and sighed. Deep down, the feeling that she was losing her place was driving her crazy. As she closed the door, she murmured, “Enjoy it, sweetheart. Because this won’t last long.” --- Dolores walked across the property with her phone held up, trying to catch a bar of signal that appeared and disappeared as if it were playing with her. Every step made her foot protest, a persistent throbbing that climbed up her leg. Strange… she had thought it was better. Or maybe she had been too optimistic, she

------------------------------ In the MADNESS, you have to find the CALM. - Dolores. ------------------------------ Dolores felt goosebumps all over her arms and legs, glancing at the wounds on the woman's head on the bed, she could predict her future. The sole thing maintaining Dolores from not wailing is realizing that the hand wouldn't kill her straight away, it would simply create some doodles on her skull but blood edition! Dolores waited for the bone-chilling forehead blood edition doodle calmly but it felt as if the hand didn't prefer her surrendering and forcefully grabbed her hair tugging her skull like a toy rattle.

Would they ever find out what happened to her if Claiborne killed her? Outside of the door to Claiborne’s study, she took a steadying breath. She was the Duchess of Lovelace, not even a Duke could kill her and get away with it. Feeling more confident, she tucked her purse away and placed her hands on the door. Lily slammed the door open, hoping to startle the Duke, but she didn’t see any movement when she walked into the room. The smell of alcohol and drugs overwhelmed Lily. She pulled out a handkerchief and covered her nose. She spotted legs sprawled out in front of the fireplace. Claiborne sat in a high wingback chair facing away from her and towards the fireplace.

The document lay within arm’s reach. She reached toward the crystal case. “Don’t.” The voice came from behind them. Everyone turned. Standing in the doorway was Claire Novak. She wore a charcoal-gray coat, rain still clinging to the fabric. One gloved hand rested at her side. The other held Daniel Carter’s missing journal. Her green eyes met Amelia’s. There was no hatred in them. Only sadness. Claire looked at the crystal case. “If you open it now…” “…you’ll destroy everything your father died to protect.”

"Ms. Jones, we stumbled upon some serious tax dodging by the Wadewell Group! We want to help the tax authorities dig deeper!" In the chaos, a couple dressed in simple clothes, their faces worn with worry, burst in. It was obvious they were Sarah's parents. Sarah's mother, seeing her daughter crumpled on the floor, rushed over. However, instead of helping her up, she delivered a stinging slap across her face. "You're a disgrace! We'd rather die poor than do something so heartless!" Surveying the chaotic scene, I was just fed up. In a mere ten minutes, the world had turned upside down.

And Enola hated needing someone. Especially Damian Cassel. ** Across the city, another building glowed beneath the rain. Victor’s penthouse sat above the skyline like a silent throne. Dark walls. Cold lighting. Expensive furniture untouched by warmth. Clarine stood near the table while reading the report again. Her expression twisted with frustration. “She trapped us.” Victor sat calmly on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other. He looked almost amused. Clarine slammed the file shut. “Enola did this on purpose.”

And her statements were strangely vague. Daniel couldn’t shake the image of her face, a cold and perplexing beauty. Every interview with her left him more unsettled. How could someone like Claire be involved in such a brutal crime? And why, despite his instincts, did his heart scream that there was more to her than what he could see?