Florence Pew Novels & Stories

'There was a sudden deem lights, Phelan remembers someone, who was Don Carlton telling her to go lay down and rest. She tried to refuse, but he was too strong, and she was unable to stop him. It was so sudden that Don stood, watching Phelan in a distant approached her in a smile that shed some lights in the deem lights that came from the window. A meter from Phelan, Don put his hands on her shoulders, and then made an excuse and left.

It meant only one thing: Penelope must know something about the real pendant, and possibly about Vee herself. Florence's shoulders trembled as she forced her wheelchair closer to Penelope. Gripping the woman's clothes in desperation, she pleaded through broken sobs. "Where is Vee?" she cried. "Tell me! Please, just tell me!"

Carter’s small hand reaching for hers. And Richard. She closed her eyes for a moment, head tilted back toward the gray sky. "I don’t regret leaving," she whispered to no one. But she didn’t quite believe it. --- Florence sat in her study that evening, reading through a stack of mail. Among the envelopes of bills and mails was a small photo tucked inside a flyer from a Boston charity. Monet. Hair pulled back, coat dusted with snow, kneeling to help a child tie their shoe at a food drive.

Emily Warner I came home after two hour chat with Mary. I felt like I finally met someone who understands me and doesn’t look at me with pity in her eyes, she knows exactly what I am talking about and where I am coming from. She made me jot down points on a notepad because I would for sure forget them, I was surprised at how predictable I am. I kept telling her that Lucas would never get jealous and he would see through my tactics. But she laughed at me and said that I don’t know how men work.

"I promise, love." "I’m confused here. What’s going on?" Dorothy asked. "Let’s just say there are certain things flying around online about you. I believe your sister is behind it, but I’m handling it," Stefan said. Dorothy picked up her phone from the nightstand and turned it on. The number of notifications flooding her screen was overwhelming. The second daughter of the Florence family, Dorothy Florence—now known as Dorothy Everest—is not only a gold digger but a slut! < Pictures of her with Kai at Florida Designs were plastered everywhere.

With nothing else to do, Chloe returned to work at the art center. She had barely settled into her seat when Florence waved at her from outside the door. Sighing, Chloe had no choice but to walk out of the piano room. "What brings you here?" she asked. Florence was usually elusive, rarely showing up, so it was strange to see her here today. Florence seemed a bit awkward, fidgeting with her clothes, as if she was hesitating to speak. After a while, she stamped her foot in frustration, looked up at Chloe, and said, "I... I just wanted to thank you for speaking up for me that day."

When they disengaged, Abigail pointed to me, “This is my granddaughter-in-law, isn’t she so pretty?” “She is,” Florence agreed. She held my hand and muttered, “I have seen you on TV. You look more beautiful in real life.” “Not as beautiful as you who was Miss World seven years ago,” I replied instantly. “You are good at flattery,” she looked away shyly. I didn’t lie about that. Florence Webb was Miss World seven years ago and she started her company around that time. She was famous then but that wasn’t the main reason behind her success.

In its place was a single, silver-threaded path leading toward the horizon. And at the end of that path, standing in the moonlight, was a young woman. She looked to be twenty years old. She was wearing a coat made of cream-and-charcoal wool. She looked up at the Spire, and her eyes—mahogany with a silver ring around the iris—glowed with a familiar, terrifying intelligence. "Hello, Mother. Hello, Father," Florence said, her voice echoing through the network as if she had been the one broadcasting all along. "Thank you for finishing the design. I'll take it from here."

" They got outside where a carriage was waiting for them. They got in and it drove towards the Crenshaw's mansion. It was a long ride. They got there after twenty tiring minutes. They both got out with a smile on their faces. They saw Florence Crenshaw standing outside as she greeted her guests. Florence Crenshaw was a known philanthropist. Though she was in her late fifties, she still continued her occupation. She had a charming personality, though with it came some cruelty in some aspects but she undoubtedly was a kind hearted woman. "Princess Isabelle, Lady Laura, I'm glad you could make it." "We wouldn't miss it for the world." Isabelle said with a small smile.

Whatever she said made Pierce widen his eyes, his brow furrowing as he fell silent. “Florence is a disgrace, seducing her own uncle and becoming a mistress. How shameless can she be?” “I’ve heard rumors about her and Pierce for years. Now it’s clear—they’ve been together this whole time. What a disgrace to the family.” “People are saying Florence was the one who climbed into Pierce’s bed, seducing her own uncle. The whispers around me grew louder. I shook my head in desperation, muttering, “No, it’s not true. It’s not like that…”