Linsey Hall Novels & Stories

She felt relieved when she closed the doors and went back to her seat. Like any other assassin, she had done her research. She was iconic in the fashion industry and had her own fashion line and was an investor in many popular cloth and shoe brands. She was rich, famous and was head over heels for Levi Wushi. However, even though she had everything she could ever want, she couldn't get any love or affection from Mr. Wushi.

I narrow my eyes, immediately knowing who it is. "What?" I spat at her. I can practically see her rolling her eyes at me. "May I come in?" She asked. I stayed silent for a moment before replying. "Yes." As soon as that word left my mouth I regretted it. Lisa strutted in, wearing a disgusting short red dress, black stilettos, and the worst makeup I've ever seen in my life. Her bleached blonde hair was a ratty mess like she purposefully made it that way. I can't believe I was going to make her alpha female.

wouldn't it? I sat, holding on to my cup as the steam warmed my face. I glanced around, staring at the cafe bustling with people during mid afternoon breaks - I really wasn't supposed to be out of the hospital, at least, not until I've been discharged. "Are you Miss Selene?" Lifting my head, i flashed a smile - "Yes, how may i help you?" The strange male brought out his ID card, his face wary with a stern look. "I'm Davis Lincoln, from the PD - missing persons unit. I was the one who invited you over and i was hoping to ask you a few questions, that's if you don't mind."

Probably some guy gave her a fake number in the bar. "I know what it is. But who are you?" She again asks me anxiously. "I am secretary of the President of the Damison Group. My name is Ethan Stone." I reply to her irritatingly, as she is wasting my time. I need to go home and take a lavender bath with my rubber ducks.

Secretly, Caitlyn prayed and hoped for an opportunity to show off as his partner to suffice again. She missed being close to him. She missed the body contact, his eyes, and his succulent lips. "Mr. King just arrived," Hannah's voice jolted her out of her thoughts. She nodded with a warm smile as a response. She had instructed the lady to inform her of Martin's arrival as soon as he does. She stood up, her smile never leaving her face, and adjusted her shirt, even though it needed none. She tucked it into her trousers neatly and sat down, then opened her bag and brought out her makeup kits, did a little touch-up on her face, and gave a contented smile at her reflection in the small hand mirro

She opened a few big charts on the dining that were delivered today at the house, before carefully observing them and making small notes with pencil. My eyes couldn’t help but trail down from her honey coloured hair tied up in a bun as few loose strands cascaded down her neck. My eyes further trailed down to her loose white dress which did nothing to hide those beautiful curves. I felt the urge to touch her but I couldn’t. God, this is going to be a nightmare. It could take months to catch the stalker. Was I not allowed to touch her or kiss her at all? How is this fair? Aaah fuck it!

Lyndsey’s POV I was shaking. It ran through my hands first. My fingers kept slipping against the pillow behind my back, and I dug them harder into the fabric just to hold still. “Keep going,” my mother said quietly. I nodded once and forced the words out. “She knew Harrison’s psychology,” I said hoarsely. “Claire did. She knew exactly which image would—” I broke off, dragged my teeth across my lower lip, then tried again. “She knew about his insecurity around Estelle’s beauty. She knew exactly where the weak point was.”

The disgust I feel is palpable and with the way the room sours, I can tell I’m not the only one who feels this way. Simeon presses, “Has anything like this ever happened before?” She pauses with a slight twitch of her lips, “It’s a boarding school. There are always boys slipping out and about after hours.” That doesn’t answer the question. Before we can challenge her further, a knock rattles against the door frame. A younger student pokes his head into the room, his face looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Um…Mr. Simeon? Hosea? Sister Monica would like an audience with you both in her office.”

All except one. A face that glared at me with a conceited smile. She had waited for this moment, she had waited to look me in the eyes with a calculative stare. Shania, drapes in a red polkadot gown and a black cashmere trenchcoat hanging over her shoulders. She let her ginger hair fall over shoulder with a braid at the two ends of her frontal. “Finally, we thought you were gonna have to cancel this meeting,” She smiled as though our argument yesterday never happened, like this was the first time we were speaking in months.

"Scarlett." ******