Madam Shyarly Novels & Stories

” She stopped and turned towards me. “Uh, yeah?” I wasn’t sure what I did wrong. “I’m sorry Mrs. Hamilton.” I quickly recovered. “Matthew,” She sauntered over to me like she was on the prowl and I was her prey. She stood close to me, her breast just inches away from touching my chest. “Call me Sharon. You make me feel old when you call me Ma’am.”

I wrote it like a friend. There is someone in pain, someone who looks at mirrors not to see herself but to measure how watched she is. I saw her slip through a service door that hummed like a secret. I think fear has her by the throat. I think that is how someone like Adrian wins—he finds people whose shame is heavier than their pride and he pushes.

The building sits isolated and dead, like a haunted forest, yet I can see it is alive with something dark and dangerous. The doors open, and the scent hits me first: warm human sweat, the faint tang of perfume, and underneath it all, coffee, pine, and lavender, something soft, yet unmistakably potent. Fenrir’s ears twitch; the wolf growls low in warning, though I shove the sensation aside. It smells lovely, but I shake the feeling quickly. A familiar voice breaks the tension. “Ulric Wolfhart.” Madam Sherry. Poised. Elegant. Wearing a red dress that hugs her form, emphasizing her curves. Her dark hair frames a face trained to command attention, and she smiles faintly as she approaches.

(Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction.) LACY I walk down the building with my head up high, even higher when everyone pauses to let me walk through. Their eyes shift to me, and the murmurs start. “Is that Madame X?” “Fuck, she's hot.” “Oh my— I've never seen her before.” “How do you know she's the one?” “Can't you see the scar on her right thigh?”

Shirley had just wanted to say something when she caught a glimpse of the man's figure. Her heart jumped to her throat, and she instantly closed her mouth, respectfully saying, "Madam, if you have no further instructions, I will take my leave." The woman nodded slightly and watched as Shirley lowered her gaze and quickly walked away. Her lips tightened slightly, she didn't call herself Yasmine, what did she call herself then? She found Shirley's words laughable, but also felt that there was something wrong.

Somehow, at the back of my mind - it felt thrilling watching Mrs Skyler's face turn to mud as her son defended me against her. "Andrea?" Tyler called. "Yes, sire," Andrea rushed forward. "Please, take us to Shirley's," Tyler put in. Shirley was a famous fashion house for elite's, and was owned by one of the most influential stylist - Shirley May herself. Outlets of her stalls were sprawled across California, and gradually progressing into other states as well. "Why are you going to Shirley's?" Mrs Skyler asked, her eyes narrowing. "Why does that matter to you, mother? You seem to question a lot these days. I do hope you have a lot of answers concerning "the landmine's project", Tyler slapped

"The Macy's Moote Harin Brain" "This girl should be brought here." He let go of Azfarin with a jerk. Azfarin staggered to the ground and did not understand what the man was saying. But he was now walking back and forth, and the three black men were shaking their heads and heading towards Azfarin. "Till Heradi Macy's Op" "Pick up this girl" He was speaking in his own language, his neck pointing towards the girl. All eyes were on the girl in the black shirt at the same time, and the steps of the tall man in them.

She asked pointing at Kiara and Cassie till her gaze settled on her. One wrong word from you madam and I will have your tongue rolling on this floor, Shelly threatened in her mind. "Shelly Champman," the woman commented with a smile. An actual smile that reached her eyes and how did she know her, Shelly asked herself mentally. "How are your parents doing?" She continued. Shelly offered her a small smile, "They're doing great." The woman pulled her into a hug immediately. Uhm...weird! "I'm Adam's mother, Mrs. Kincaid but you can call me Lina."

I stood up, pacing away, sitting, and constantly tapping my feet, but minutes later, all I saw was darkness. My closed eyes slowly fluttered open, and I sat up quickly, my hand blindly searching the bed for Calissi. --- I first touched the tiny hands, followed by the feel of her breathing against my skin. A shaky sigh escaped my lips as I visibly relaxed. But my shoulders tensed up again when I saw it. A shadow, passing by with an unmistakable dagger in its hand, raised it up. [DING] New Mission Activated: Catch the mysterious shadow. Risk of death: High.

When I found out that my daughter, Yvonne Miller, was selling her body, I was devastated. I couldn't imagine my beloved daughter in bed with an ugly old man. I was disgusted by the mere thought of it. I found out about this when I accompanied one of my clients to a nightclub. The pimp, Maria Cunningham, brought in several scantily-dressed young women, and I recognized one of them. I had seen her plenty of times on Yvonne's social media. She was her classmate, Hermione Stone.