Margot A Novel Novels & Stories

Marguerite said, her voice sounding clearly through the external speakers of her helmet. “But she forgot that I was the one who helped her create the encryption codes in the first place. And now, I have come to take back what rightfully belongs to the de Montfort family.” Mavric found himself trapped beneath heavy piles of rubble, struggling desperately to free himself so he could reach Liora’s side. Meanwhile, Liora stood completely alone, facing the woman who had destroyed her mother’s life decades ago. “It is time to come home to Paris, Liora,” Marguerite said with a cold, triumphant smile. END OF CHAPTER 140.

If Margot ran out and brought others here, if word got out, not only would his wishes be ruined, but he himself would be in serious trouble. Margot hadn't gotten far before Brycen caught up and grabbed her wrist. Her wrist was slender and icy cold, but she struggled fiercely, crying and shouting, "Let me go! You lunatic! What the hell are you keeping down there? It's terrifying! I'm leaving, I'm never staying here again!" She had originally planned to take a shortcut—after all, she only got involved with Brycen for his money. She figured she had nothing to lose. Even though she knew Brycen had a wife, a man who could be lured away by her clearly didn't love his wife anymore.

“Knowing that Margaux was already in the southeast kingdom, there might be a possible reason that she met her father already, but I have a strong feeling that Margaux won't choose her father's side unless they do something to her.” I grit my teeth when I realized what she said. There might be a possibility that they did something to my mate. I know Margaux that much. She won't allow anyone to rule her. I know her because she was the most courageous woman that I met in my whole life. No one can ever manipulate her unless they do something to make her forget about us and forget about herself.

Vicktor's saucy tongue on her neck gave her no pause; he played with her neck, licking it up to the hairline at the nape of her neck. Margot pulled away from her just enough to free her from her clothes, and then took off her own.Margot, like Clara, had neither a curvaceous nor a skinny body, she had flesh, she was not without flesh, and Clara then attacked her as well. She began to caress every bit of exposed flesh; she ran her hands over her belly, up her hands over the woman's medium sized breasts and watched her close her eyes in delight, accepting the welcome caress.

“No, we’re still filing for divorce.” “Then you have your answer. I wouldn’t waste my time playing these games when I know it won’t change anything. I’d rather sleep, like now, so I can still serve you another time. If you don’t have anything else to say, I’d like to sleep alone tonight, Justin.” I was left speechless. Margarette took a deep breath and added, “Justin, listen carefully.” She unwrapped part of the blanket, revealing her cleavage, but her angry expression made it impossible to enjoy the view. Instead of feeling threatened, I thought she looked like an angry kitten.

I hid my head in my hands. Margot, you bi*ch, why do you always have to go against me? Why could she not obey my wish? Why does she have to cause so many problems? I had everything planned to the tiniest details. Margot was supposed to be humiliated and run away in shame when exposed, leaving everything behind as compensation for her betrayal. But she could not give up so easily, of course. I could predict that a long time ago. She was always too clever. What else could she do?

Soon, the explosives were destroyed. Margot was captured. I was eager to find Henry. “Who exactly is Margot?” Henry shuddered and lowered his gaze to avoid my eyes. “She’s… a maid at the Duke’s mansion.” My eyes flashed. “You once said she had the grace of a goddess. She knows how to do business but can’t keep up with accounts?! Now, it seems she can even make explosives, too! Tell me the truth! Who is she really?”

"She didn't think anyone was in here." I lick my lips, feeling oddly drawn to the book. "What is it?" "Something really rare," Alice says. "There are only a few like it in the world. It's called, 'The Secret History of Magic.' It tells the real story of magic. It helps you to understand that there are many ways to look at everything." "Okay," I say. It's starting to feel like I'm stuck in Alice's fantasy. Next thing I know she'll be telling me she knows how to fly.

POV: Vivian Ashford The role is called Margot. She is a twenty-three-year-old woman who grew up with nothing and clawed her way into a world that wasn't built for her, and she is brilliant and ruthless and quietly devastating, and the script is the best thing I have read since I got to LA, and I want it the way I have wanted very few things in my life with the particular clarity of knowing this is exactly the right thing at exactly the right moment.

"Della, please. You can tell me. If you’re telling the truth and nothing actually happened, then that’s great, but—" Before Fae could finish speaking, a familiar voice interrupted our conversation. "What do you mean I’m not allowed in?!" It was Margot, her voice filled with an indignation that I had rarely heard. She wore a bright dress, almost gaudy, and stood fuming at the entrance to the banquet hall. With her head held high, she put both hands on her waist and stood in front of the poor servant as if she were the master of the manor. Why, the way she absconded the man, I would have thought the servant was in her service as well. Her high cheekbones were warped by anger, tense from scream