Lady Sherlock Novels & Stories

Now I know why Lady likes me because we are so similar. I wear simple earrings and a bracelet. I don't wear any necklace and put on a light lipstick and wear my heels. As I take my sling bag, doorbell rings. I go down and open the door to see Dani and Davis. I welcome them and hug Dani. "Thank you so much for coming to look after Lady. She would like the company. And also for helping me I have made something for you to show my gratitude." I say. "I think I am going with you, not her. I should get some bribe." Davis complains.

A casual observer would have assumed that she was watching the scenery, but someone more astute might have noticed that her hands kept fluttering back and forth over the wrapped parcel in her lap, as though with pride or guilty pleasure. Lily was not quite sure what had possessed her to buy the pair of exquisite black kid evening gloves. But buy them she had. They rested in the wrapped box on her lap, folded between layers of violet tissue paper. She was not a frivolous young woman, nor one given to acting on a whim. Indeed she prided herself on her common sense and level-headedness, two qualities which made her indispensable as upstairs maid to Lady Eleanor Soames.

Instead of listening to his mind, he listened to his dick, lusted upon the girl and allowed her to live till she became a teenager and then sent Carl to capture her. Probably it was the effect of her looks Carl fell in the same pit he fell. He wanted to sleep with her and forgot his motto to enter her life and it backfired all Sherlock's plans. The girl slipped away from him and caught the eye of the unprecedented billionaire who could even shake the Sheol with the snap of his fingers. Scarlet is really a very lucky girl or maybe it was the effect of his worst stars that she is living till today. Sherlock is almost sure she got the code. Had he killed her when she was young, he would have go

“Let everything end once and for all. I don’t want to deal with him any longer. It’s high time I got my revenge, and even if I die, I will die a happy death.” With that determination, she picked up her brush and paper. When she was done, she had one of her loyal maids, who was following the team that would go before them, get it across to Sherlock by all means. Days passed, but she got no response and just assumed the delivery wasn’t successful until the last night before their trip. The maid came back with a response from Sherlock, who agreed to help her since she’s one of his people. Immediately, she burned the letter with a cold expression. “Damien, what to do? My day of revenge is here.”

‘What kind of logic is this? “Are you guys forgetting the fact that Mr. Synder is the Sherlock Holmes of Mountain City? Not only he’s the most handsome one among our team, but he also can recognize faces and voices better than a machine can,” the policeman who was eating from his lunch box quipped. “I’m curious why they’re giving our team to handle such a minor case. We’ve always been dealing with human lives, vendettas, and serial homicides. Although this case is quite malicious, Lydia is just a woman who cried in front of Jasper. After that incident, everything is back to normal. Once, I went to interview her at the hospital. She’s even laughing and chatting happily on her phone. She looks

The lady in question strike something in me, her dirty blonde hair and pairs of emerald green eyes, and sharp jaw, with that dimple that just appeared, makes her resemblance to Rory evident, except she looks a little younger than Rory. Jack pulls away from her when he sees me glaring at him and walk over to me. "Before you start casting, it's not what you think. The Lady is in pain for the disappearance of her brother and I'm just trying to comfort her." "Comfort eh?" I snort, irritably. "Yes." "There are other ways to comfort someone that doesn't include shoving your tongue in her mouth." "I don't know of any." "The Lady is quite older, don't you think it's going to spark up problems? You'r

He was standing by one of the opened doors with a look she couldn't completely place and it made her all the more curious. "What_" her sentence was cut short when she saw the scene. Gruesome, grotesque or scary were not even good enough words to describe what she was looking at. There was a woman in a tattered blue robe, seated upright in the middle of the room on a red chair. Her face had excess red lipstick and excess eyeshadow that made it look like she was crying. Her head was completely shaved bold and she had no eyebrows. On the left side of her head was an entry point of a bullet and the right side had a slightly larger hole; the exit wound. And none of that was strange.

Not only did she look classier now, but she also had the air of a monarch around her. The journalists knew that face too. Was she not the founder and designer of Miss L.ady, Vera Quinn? Was Vera Quinn Madeline Crawford? This conclusion appeared in everyone’s brains immediately. After Madeline sensed something was wrong, it was too late for her to run away as Jeremy had already approached her.

It was evident from the soft moaning sound typical of a small kid that began to be heard. "Who are you?" Katheryn asked when she couldn't contain her curiosity. She even stepped foot, closer to the foreign adult woman. Her face is beautiful, there are already a few fine wrinkles around her eyes. How old is she? Around 35 years old maybe? "Sorry, who are you?" And Where am--" Swoosh!

Richard insisted with a soft sigh. "And I never knew Sarah had any involvement with someone like him!" The Lady countered back, glaring sharply at him. "His girlfriend? His concubine? Or just a friend. I don't know!" "Anyways, I have no use for her. Seeing how actively they are ransacking everywhere for her, I can't use her to do what I wanted," she stated mysteriously before turning to look at Sarah chained to a heavy steel torture chair. The lady suddenly turned back to the screen, then reached out to tap a few buttons on the console. It would connect to the camera outside the cabins just by the entrance.