Fisher Catherine Incarceron Novels & Stories

Jared, Oscar, and Wyatt, drunk and sex-deprived, started banging on the walls in rhythm, like a drunken drumline. Aaron raised his phone and pushed it across the table toward Knox. “Sign up.” Knox narrowed his eyes. “A dating app? That’s it?” Aaron’s grin widened like the Cheshire Cat on crack. He tapped into his gallery. Photos of women appeared. Knox frowned. They looked oddly familiar. “This is what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna pretend to be a girl… and catfish Victor.” Knox recoiled. “That’s insane.” He bit back the immediate, “fuck no,” that almost shot out of his mouth. Of course, it was Victor.

The day the Sterling family came to honor an old marriage agreement, my adopted younger sister suddenly confessed. "I used Sophie's photo to date a scholarship kid online. He's coming here today to propose, and someone that low is the kind of person I deserve. "Mom, Dad, I don't deserve the Sterling marriage. Send me away." Her eyes swam with tears. She looked stubborn and self-sacrificing, the perfect brave little martyr. My parents, who'd always favored Ava, made their decision immediately. They pointed at me, standing off to the side, watching the whole performance. "Ava grew up with us. She understands our world better than you do. She's the one who should marry into the Sterling fa

My name is Sophia Lucci, and this is how I catfished my husband and his supposed girlfriend. We had been married for 24 years. Twenty-four years of what I thought was happy. He got everything he wanted. The house he chose. The truck he loved. The vacations he picked. I made sure life ran smoothly so he never had to question comfort. And apparently, comfort made him bored. That’s how I met Vincent. Not in person. On Tinder. Same smile. Same scar on his chin. Same wedding ring conveniently missing.

Catherine had always been looking forward to her free day as she either get to do her thesis or play detective and sometimes both but today she decided to find her brother Felipe as she have found a person to help her — big time. She went to Tacky’s apartment holding a brief case containing all the data that could help her find her brother Felipe. They went to the same room or which Catherine would love to call the “FBI” room as there was so much technology in there. Tacky is a computer engineer and a mystery nerd that she had met during a project in a general subject.

"Your son tried to kill me. Tried to kill everyone I love. He was a monster." "He was mentally ill. Damaged by a childhood he did not deserve. But yes. He was also a monster." Catherine's voice cracked. "I gave him up when he was born. Thought he would have a better life without me. Instead, he bounced through foster homes. Was abused. Neglected. Became the thing I was trying to prevent." "That is not my fault." "I know. But it is mine. And I have to live with that." She met my eyes. "The FBI came to see me. Asked about Marcus. About his connection to you. About whether I thought his death was justified."

Whatever she does nothing enters her mind. "Catherine Ashton you will be sentenced to five years in prison and six months in the murder case of a businessman Steven Fletcher. " "No, this is not true! I did not kill him. Nathan, I thought you would help me get out of here! What's going on, why did they judge me, huh? " She Shouted. "Nathan, why didn't you answer, huh? Where are you going? Don't leave me, Nathan? " She said crying. Why don't they believe? Why don't they hear what she's saying?

I screamed with all my remaining strength, clinging to the last shred of hope. Finally, I heard footsteps outside. "Please, help me!" I cried out. "I'm locked in the silver cage! I'm about to give birth!" I repeated it over and over, thinking I was saved. But then I heard a voice, dripping with smug satisfaction. "Well, well, Elena. Look at you now. Damien should have put you in your place long ago." It was Damien's sister, Sophia. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep my voice steady. "Sophia, please, just get me out of here. The baby is coming. I can't wait."

"Do it." Yessica looked at him. He was doing what he always did in these moments — moving to action, removing the threat vector, containing the damage. It was effective and she was grateful for it. But something had been sitting with her since the afternoon. "Catherine is in prison," she said. "She's already facing a failed custody filing. The fraud conviction is permanent. Her marriage is over. Harrison testified against her." She looked at Eleanor. "What exactly is she still trying to accomplish? She has no leverage left. Why maintain a contact inside Ethan's school?"

Maybe she’d give me something the prosecutors couldn’t find. They led us down to the holding cells, the hum of fluorescent lights echoing overhead. Catherine was already waiting, perched on the bench behind the glass like she owned the place. Her blonde hair was perfectly brushed, as if prison hadn’t touched her. When she saw me, her smile curled slowly and deliberately. “Grace,” she purred. “Finally found the courage to visit.” Noah stepped in front of me, shoulders squared. “Cut the act. You’re finished.” Her eyes slid past him like he didn’t exist, locking on me instead. “Did they tell you? About the other one?”

Catherine Petrov may have lost some things over the years, but his pride and sense of fashion weren't part of them. Even in correctional facility, he stood out in short ruffled hair and deep brown eyes which always reminded me of my wife. He had his legs crossed, and barely looked up to us before he continued the work he was doing; auditing taxes for the government. Since there had been no witness to testify against him, and Alistair had dropped his case, Catherine could have easily fought for the plea deal and gotten out on the bases of circumstantial evidence. But he hadn't done that, and each time I visited with my wife, he always refused to mention anything about the suffering he was goi