Margot Ruby Gillman Novels & Stories

Salome’s POV “You didn’t even ask who I was,” I muttered, staring at the darkened screen of my phone. Margot Richardson hadn't bothered with introductions. She didn't need to. Her reputation for being a shark preceded her, and right now, she only had one target in her sights: Portia. Once Margot locked onto a goal, she didn't stop until she crushed it. That singular focus was exactly why I needed her. If anyone could track down where Portia and her family had hidden Russell Lewis’s remains, it was a woman who viewed obstacles as personal insults.

I needed something to hold on to and if this was what it would take me, then I was very much ready to do that. My mom had showed me time and time again that she didnt have much emotions as everyone thought she had. She was more of a quiet snake, not saying a word but being able to do everything that she wanted without anyone telling her not to. I knew what was happening, I knew that she was the only one who had the power to actually made what happened to happen and I was not going to stop till I prove it. Margot Steele was a master puppeteer dressed in pearls and coated in polished smiles. Nothing happened around her or to people she was close to without her knowing about it. She knew every

“You don’t honestly think Mother would cut me off from Hale Industries?” “Margot Hale is a powerful woman.”

I scanned the place. I am sure. This is the place where I dropped off Magda last time. I can't be wrong. I spoke in the back of my mind. I wonder why Bel is the one who was here. Just in case Bel and Magda are the same people—No! No! It's impossible. I protested. If you take a look, Bel has a sun-kissed skin tone while Magda is fair. Bel has shoulder-length hair while Magda is long. The woman who's with me now is tall, while Magda just has an average height.

And the lights inside the vault flickered on… *** FLASHBACK - MARGARET (YEARS AGO) A sleek conference room. Glass walls. Night lights of the city behind her. Margaret Hartman stands alone…calm, elegant, calculating. The door opens. A man enters. Victor Crane. Younger. Sharper. Eyes like polished steel. Margaret doesn’t greet him. She doesn’t offer her hand. He smiles thinly. “You summoned me. Should I be flattered?” Margaret studies him. “I need you to understand something before you make your next move.”

“What were you even doing there, Margot? You just started working and you took a leave to follow Harry?” Margot sighed. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Well, I kind of want to mess with him but I have other reasons for coming here, Dad.” She grinned and grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter. “Tell me about it,” Ryan said in a demanding tone. Shrugging, Margot jumped to the coach and drank from the bottle. “Well, don’t be surprised. I’ve got Bruce Gardner to join the company,” she informed him. There was a brief silence before Ryan burst into laughter. “Stop kidding, Margot. That man is out of reach. He wouldn’t agree even if you offer a few hundred of million dollars.”

She giggled as she realize how potent the narcotic drug she made was. "How was it to feel powerless for once, Mathias?" Morrigan's cold reverberated around the room. She leaned by the door, her hands behind her shutting the door. And despite the darkness that looms inside the room, Mathias tried to lift his head but he could only see the blurred figure of a woman standing by the door. But he knows who it was clearly, with her sweet voice reverberating around the room there was no mistake it was Morrigan. Mathias could feel the cold aura surrounding her, different from the young lady he saw earlier by the garden. Despite having the same sweet voice, the voice he heard is cold and dry. Uninter

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.

There were always dozens of staff running around the property, preparing, securing, cleaning. Whatever brief history she and I had was long gone before Margot came here, but I knew that she had said rude and weird things to my wife. I couldn’t help but think she was tied to whatever was going on. This was no accidental bloodlust killing, this was a well thought out devised plan. I ignored the steady stream of theories that plagued my thoughts and focused on who was “Roxanne Harlow. What do we know?” I asked as I stared at my fellow Court members.

I stated. “Maybe I’ll show you a picture of Margot whenever you’re let out again” he offered “I don’t have my phone with me, I could’ve shown you, she looked just like Arian, silver hair, amber eyes…, Ava got her eyes from Her grandmother” “Arian’s mother” I whispered “yes, you’ll probably get to meet them all soon, they moved out of the pack house after Margot’s death”. Meanwhile in LA…….. NATHAN’S POV