Dorothy Dawson Novels & Stories

This seemed to be getting more interesting than she thought. This time, Zac and John would completely flip, and that was a way to kill many birds with one stone, was it not? That b*tch, Phoebe James, was too unfortunately lucky to have gotten both men she could not have. All she had was that face of hers, right? It was a face that Dorothy was so familiar with she wanted to throw up every time she saw it. How could Olivia Larson still enjoy such luxuries even after she had passed? Dorothy was upset, so painfully, unsettlingly upset!

I never heard my brothers talking about rent and such. “How am I supposed to call you? What is your name?” I changed the topic. I don’t want to cry while thinking about my parents. I don’t want my mind to wander around on the details my family didn’t tell me. “I don’t tell my name that easy, young woman. But the people in here, including my grandchildren and children, call me Nana. They said that I am the oldest woman in the town of Dusk and Dawn.”

She chuckled. "Watch out for Camari and Jasper. Two of your closest people betrayed you. Do you think they're both immune to money and position?" Dorothy smiled sarcastically. "Wake up, Otis. Don't waste your time and energy by appearing in public. Stay in hiding." "You mean like that child you've been hiding from me and everyone else?" I asked, looking into her eyes unflinchingly. "I know about Julius Arnold Haworth." Dorothy widened her eyes at the mention of that name. She wouldn't have reacted if she didn't know the name. One of my suspicions was answered, but I didn't know what her relationship with him was.

Unless. "Alpha Grayson."

Jean frowned slightly. Dorothy's conduct seemed to be just what was needed to deal with people the likes of Mr. Cochran. Back when Michaels Group was just a twinkle, Dorothy was the one who had masterminded Joyce into her success. Despite not having a good education, Dorothy knew the media industry well. Plus, she was a part of the Michaels family. "You don't want to do this job anymore?" Jean asked Dorothy. From the get-go, Dorothy never really intended to do this job. But circumstances pushed her into it, and that's why she took it.

The redhead looked at the modern art sculptures in strategic locations in the room, and thanked the heavens for being compatible with the environment. Dorothy Banks walked down the stairs elegantly, and smiled when she saw her only son with her. She was wearing a long black dress and a fur coat in the same color. Her hair was perfectly combed back, which revealed more of her youthful face. To say that Dorothy was an elegant woman would be an understatement. - "Hi, pretty thing," she couldn't help but say.

"Yeah, she's amazing." He spent the rest of the day questioning whether or not he had been right. He went back to his dorm that night and opened her name up on the computer again. There she was. Dr. Ashley Dawson. A genius scientist that discovered new technology in pharmaceutical biotechnology. Her smiling face was plastered across articles and awards. She looked so strong and composed in her simple white button up and glasses. He wondered if she would even know who he was. He wanted to ask her, to find out. But he had no idea how.

Besides Pierre, Joseph, and Blair, there were only another two chauffeurs and two bodyguards. “Mrs. Moses.” As they sat in the car, the girl in ponytails carefully scooched over to Sally. “Do you still remember me?” Sally smiled kindly at her. “Of course, I remember you. You’re the girl with ponytails who’s with Blair.” The girl blushed. “My name’s Dorothy Yorks. You can call me Dory.” Then, she gazed shyly at Sally. “My cousin is getting married today. “I’m hitching a ride back from you guys, but there’s nothing I can do to repay the favor…”

she smiled. “Thanks, grandma,” I rolled my eyes. “Want to head inside and make some dinner?” Grandma asked. “Sure, I need to let Wyatt know I came over here, so he’s not worried about me,” I smile. “How did you get here?” Grandma looked at her driveway and saw no vehicle. “I ran,” I shrugged my shoulders. “Remi Esmeray Dawson, that would be at least a 45-minute run! Why wouldn’t you drive over here?!” Grandma shouted.