Leslye Penelope Novels & Stories

I clear my throat and try to think of something to say, but the new woman stands up and offers her hand out to me before I can speak. "Sorry, I didn't have a chance to introduce myself. I'm Penny. I work with Claude; I'm kind of like his sidekick but obviously more talented than he is in the craft." Claude frowns deeply. "Penny," I shake her hand politely. Her grip is strong; not as strong as her eyes. "I'm Leslie." "Oh, I know." She laughs, unashamed of the gap that dominates her smile. "You made quite the introduction yesterday, believe me—"

PENELOPE Hi I'm Penelope Gabrielle Avery, 17 years old. Yes, I'm the famous, gorgeous, and rich heir of Avery Corporation, but I don't really know much about dad's business. I lost my mom when I was 8, car accident. So, I'm living with my dad who only comes home once or twice a month. It isn't a big deal though since he buys me gifts from his business trips abroad. And yes, I'm the only child so he spoils me. I can have everything I want to have.

She rushed over and quickly apologized, "Ian, I-I didn't mean to l-lie to you." Her face was pale, and her eyes were full of panic. She had even started stuttering. The words had barely left her mouth when Lyle—unaware of what was happening—followed her out. When he saw the man in front of Penelope, he froze. As an award-winning actor from Cyrelia, Ian had starred in international films as well. Thus, Lyle had heard of him and knew how powerful he was. Right away, he realized what was going on—Penelope likely belonged to Ian.

Back in the backroom, Leslie's jaw dropped at the array of dresses displayed before her that ranged from vintage to couture to glam to subtle yet divine. "Whoa, these are… these are beautiful, Lady P," Leslie exclaimed. "Oh please, I told you to call me Penelope, or better yet, Penny, the last time we met," Lady P—or rather, Penelope—said. Leslie giggled. "You were the one who went back on the agreement, Penny. You started calling me Mrs. Blackwood again," Leslie whined. Penelope grinned. "I'm sorry, Leslie. Your husband is just so… he's a lot, and I just feel like I have to accord you as such whenever he is around," Penelope confessed, earning a laugh from Leslie.

"She should have been locked in there until she rotted after what she did!" Well, this is becoming fascinating. It seems the little dose of laudanum in Leslie's tea is inadvertently a truth serum as well. "Who's Katie Connelly and what did she do?" "She's a narcissistic, filthy rich, home-wrecking cunt, who ruined my life!" Leslie seethes, smashing her tiny fist on the bed, nearly falling off the edge of it due to her increasingly impaired coordination.

a tall woman in traditional dance attire commented. Danice glanced at her and froze. She recognized the tall woman. Isn’t she… Penelope, the one famous for her electrifying dance skills, called the Madonna of her time?! Danice’s eyes brightened. She wasn’t particularly interested in the dance industry, but because of Yvette, she couldn’t help knowing a lot about it. Naturally, she’d heard of Penelope, though Penelope wouldn’t become famous until years later. What Danice admired most was that Penelope had once stood up to Yvette. Even though she hadn’t won in the end, Danice still respected her.