Martha Reader Novels & Stories

Martha’s voice called softly from her chamber, and Nivera turned to find her maid—her only true friend—setting down a bundle of furs on the bed. “Martha.” Relief flooded her voice. She hurried over and embraced her, something she rarely did with anyone. “You’re back.” “I’ve missed you,” Martha said, smiling. “How was the trip?” Nivera sat down, brushing a hand through her silvery hair. “Strange,” she admitted. “Beautiful... but strange.” “Can I ask you something?” Nivera said quietly as Martha laid out the table. Martha glanced over her shoulder. “Of course.”

Athena's blood suddenly boils seeing him walking towards them but she displayed a playful smile while waiting for him. Martha displayed a smug smile on her face while waiting for her boss. She seemed to have found a pillar that served as her protection as she said, "...Mr. Adams, I tried to get rid of…" But Athena was provoked by Martha's rudeness as well as Terrence's way of ridiculing her therefore, she went forward, meeting her husband and showcased a sweet smile that almost tore her lips apart. Leaving her restrictions behind, she thought of teaching Martha a lesson to lessen her unethical behavior hence she formed a little idea that would put Terrence into her trap.

"The baby... something’s wrong." "Is it?" Martha asked, tilting her head. "Or is he just eager to meet his new mother?" "What did you do?" Sarah screamed, the sound echoing through the hollow house. "The tea... I didn't even drink the tea!" "I didn't need the tea," Martha said, standing over her like a shadow. "I’ve spent ten years learning things, Sarah. Dark things. Things found in the basements of grief. You think I wanted you to suffer? No. I wanted you to bloom. I wanted you to be the perfect vessel for what was stolen from me."

It was thick with fog and a damp chill that seemed to seep right through the floorboards of my car. I parked along the narrow, uneven gravel road, looking through the sweeping windshield wipers at the small, weathered cottage sitting near the jagged edge of the gray water. This was where Martha had lived for the last fifteen years, completely removed from the brutal politics, the endless boardroom wars, and the toxic drama of the Hale family empire. She had been our childhood nanny, the only person who had ever given Damien, Zara and me a true sense of warmth or safety when we were growing up.

she retorted without remorse. My eyes drifted to Martha, and the air seemed to drop a few degrees as I met her gaze. Her eyes, like icy shards of winter stone, stared back at me with a chilling emptiness, void of any warmth or feeling. It was as if the very soul had been drained from her, leaving behind a mask of frosty indifference. "Have you no shame, Martha? Have you no shame that you haven't only been fucking Fabian during and after my father's death but also try to destroy my relationship with Freya because she had my child all along?"

"I've done nothing wrong. I agree to call off the engagement." Mark froze, completely taken aback. Then, a robotic voice echoed in my head, ‘The Thought Sharing feature has now been activated. Please choose who you want to share it with.’ Thought Sharing? The person I picked could hear Alice's thoughts, too? I looked at Mark, still in shock, and calmly touched my face. ‘I choose Mark.’ Right then, Alice's inner voice rang out again, just in time. 'Can you believe it? With just a little trick, Helen has given up on Mark all by herself?'

Her eyes studied my face for a moment like she was trying to see if I meant it. Then she nodded like the answer was enough for now. “That’s good.” I crossed my arms lightly. “Do you know Emily?” I asked. Martha blinked slightly at the sudden question. “Ivan’s wife?” “Yeah.” “I know her,” Martha said. “She’s a great woman.” I tilted my head. “What else?” Something flickered across Martha’s face, hesitation, maybe even caution. For someone who used to be in the military, she was surprisingly careful with her words inside this house. Then again, living with the Wade brothers probably taught anyone that lesson very quickly.

Martha said and went back to her work post. Martha is my best friend. We became friends three years ago when I started working at Mrs. Smith's boutique. She helped me a lot when I was newly employed, such as how to stay calm when I attended to snorty customers because I was very short-tempered. She has mud-brown hair, sky-blue eyes, and plump lips. Her face was dotted with freckles which only added to her unique beauty. She was of average height and very curvy in the right places. I've always envied her beauty. Martha is a man-lover; she fawns over any handsome man she sees. She has had a few heartbreaks in the past, but that doesn't seem to bother her. Nevertheless, I still love her.

Martha asked quietly, leaning against my door. “No, thank you, please retire early,” I said calmly, closing my eyes as she walked out of my room. Immediately after she left I got up and brought out my mother's diary. Checking for where I stopped reading and putting on a small lamp so I could continue from where I stopped. “You have work tomorrow,” I whispered quietly, making a mental note not to read too much. The next few pages were about a man she had met, one she was drawn to at first sight.