Margot A Novel Novels & Stories

She walked straight to Elizabeth, looked her up and down, and asked condescendingly, "Elizabeth, what's your relationship with James?" Evelyn snorted. "What's their relationship? Like it has anything to do with you!" Elizabeth's heart stopped for a moment. They've been roommates for many years, but she had no idea that Margot also knew James, and pretty well it seemed. Margot never kept a low-profile, her family was a well-known corporation in A City, and one could tell from her clothes and expenses that she came from a well-off family. She was also born and raised in A City, so it made sense that she would know James. But why was she suddenly interrogating her today? Did she know anything e

Salome’s POV “You need to find the phone number on that package right now,” Margot said, her voice sharp enough to cut. She didn’t look at the mess of papers on the floor. She just stared at the wall while Mary, her longest-serving maid, knelt to gather the scattered documents. Margot’s fingers stayed curled into tight fists at her sides. Every second Portia Vane spent near her son was a second the Richardson legacy moved closer to a cliff. Portia was a loose cannon, a girl who didn't care about rules or reputations. Margot had spent decades building this name, protecting it like a fortress, and she wasn't about to let some unstable girl burn it down.

No training in subterfuge, no attempt to cover her tracks, no plan for escape if caught. Unless... Unless that was the plan. Make me think she was incompetent, harmless. Lower my guard. "Damn it," I muttered, pouring myself a drink. Nothing about Thea made sense. She was a contradiction wrapped in a mystery, and it was driving me insane. There was a knock at my door. "Enter." Margot stepped in, her expression grave. "My Lord, I've done as you asked. Searched the servant's quarters, questioned her roommates." "And?"

Richard kept his hands shoved in his pockets, his jaw set as he tried to catch any lingering trace, but his frustration was obvious. "I can't reach her mind link at all," he muttered. Near the edge of the residential path, an older pack member paused as we approached, wiping his hands on a rag. "What's the urgency, Alpha?" "We're looking for Margot," I said. The man relaxed, tossing the rag over his shoulder. "Oh, she left hours ago. Saw her heading out toward the main road in a black dress. Looked like she had plans." A slight shift of relief hit me, but the choice of attire didn't fit a casual evening. Before I could ask more, another man leaning against a fence nearby spoke up. "She wasn'

Margo wanted a place where she had privacy and people didn’t ask too many questions, and that’s exactly where the cab driver had taken her to. The room had double beds with old-looking comforters with cigarette holes in them. The walls were a hideous shade of green, the carpet had stains, and the bathroom was plain, but clean. She had slept till noon. There were small shops across the street. She picked up a change of clothes and lunch. When she took a bite of the burrito, she thought best not to eat any more of it. She picked at the taco salad. After taking a shower, she put on the pink bikini top and jean shorts. Margo was going to pull out her laptop to see if she was featured online as t

Margot gasped while soaking Harry’s underwear in the toilet bowl. After a good five minutes, she picked them up using tongs and sprinkled a mixture of chili powder, turmeric, and her almost expired face powder. Margot thought it would be nice to do something while her husband was enjoying himself with another woman, so she came up with another little trick that wouldn’t only affect Harry but also his mistress. “I wonder if I’d be thrown to prison when it’s proven I did this,” Margot asked herself while drying Harry’s boxers under the sun. “Well, they just don’t need to find out I guess.”

It was one of the things about herself she had always trusted. She had been in Geneva for nine days. Margot's apartment was in the old city, large and high-ceilinged and full of the kind of art that had been collected with money and attention over time rather than purchased as statement. Margot was five years older than Elena and had spent the bulk of her adult life doing international financial compliance work, which meant she had very good instincts for when someone near her was managing a crisis and very little patience for being managed in return. "You're not sleeping," Margot had said, on day three.

"And then, when you are ready, I am going to introduce you to the one person in this city who knows more about what Julian did to you than even Killian does." I frowned. "Who?" Margot set a bowl of fruit and a plate of toast on the island in front of me with the efficiency of a woman who fed people as an act of tactical preparation rather than domesticity. "Eat first," she said. "The answers will keep." --- ### The Weight of the Walls

I said, and she closed her eyes with relief. “I know you probably don't want to answer the next question," she murmured, holding my hand, “but Nikolay, I have to ask. I need to know," she stared at me intently. “Who is Margot? What happened to her?” “She's not someone important enough to even mention, Margaret," I told her seriously, so much so that she recoiled from my touch on her cheek. I withdrew it, feeling heaps of sad memories clouding my mind. Damn it, this was bad, I had to get Margaret out of the office and out of my sight right now.

Margot wears tight little, seductive t-shirts, no bra and most of the time bum shorts which cling to her slender figure, revealing the most delicious camel toe, but of course she does not have a clue how tempting she is. I want to fucking show her by running my tongue all over her cunt. She’s more than easy on the eye and I sure as hell can’t deny that I’ve stayed up at nights, stroking my cunt while thinking about her and sometimes, I moan her name until I am done finger fucking myself. But the post nut clarity hits and I reprimand myself, reminding myself that Margot is my goddaughter and I shouldn’t have that kind of thoughts about her. I own a stable and Margot has been a great help in h