Mary Jane: A Novel Novels & Stories

The front door opened slowly, greeted by the sound of the evening wind carrying the scent of wood and road dust. Maia stepped inside, her body slightly tired but her stride steady. Something within her felt lighter, as if a burden was slowly being lifted. Mariana was standing in the living room, holding a snack as a simple breakfast for Juan. She was still wearing her kitchen apron, while a small pan on the stove began releasing thin smoke, waiting for her return. But that was not what caught her attention—rather, it was the figure of the woman who had just returned from her retreat in search of peace.

Because somewhere an old journalist no longer carried her secret alone. Somewhere a woman named Claire Martin was finally free. Somewhere powerful men were growing older. And somewhere new stories were beginning. The sort of stories nobody could control. The sort of stories nobody could own. The sort of stories that belonged to everyone. And for the first time since arriving in Paris, Jessica Jane wasn't searching for the future. She was walking toward it.

My words were low, eyes sneaking a glance at Cameron who still appeared uninterested at whatever was going on behind him. “I’m guessing it’s the young man beside you” The voice of the lady followed, with eyes staring on at Cameron. Whenever she smiled, you would see a wrinkle pull at her eyes, but believe me, it was every delight beholding that. “Yes” I affirmed, giving a nod. “I am Martha” She had pulled out a hand for shake, eyes beaming on. “And this is my husband, Marcellus” She pointed to the figure next to her. A man with grey hair filling every bit of his head, and a beard that trailed all the way to his neck.

Edmund three weeks old with his grandfather's name and his mother's eyes and apparently my eyebrows. Daniel two blocks from the water building things under his own name. Griffin answering questions a three week old cannot ask yet. Marcus and Sebastian on Fridays. Margaret with her window boxes and Archie and the twenty year game that landed exactly where she intended. All of it. Every piece of it. Exactly right. As it had always been going to be. From the moment a woman raised a paddle at a charity auction for a Maine vacation rental with a kitchen facing the ocean and looked across the room and found someone looking back.

"My name is Mary Johnson. I was born and raised in Chicago. My parents are very much alive, and I’m the first child in the family." Big Joe nodded slowly, as if filing away every word. "And what do your parents do for a living?" I hesitated for a fraction of a second. Occupations? Great, Mary. What am I supposed to say? Farmers? Not that there was anything wrong with it, but I needed to make it sound… cooler. "They’re in various businesses," I said smoothly. "Businesses?" His brows furrowed. "Like what?" "Like…" I scrambled for words, then smiled confidently. "Human intake. They harvest and take them to the market."

The room illuminates and she walked to the same shelves and placed those books. Descending down the stairs she noted how calm and quiet the mansion felt at this hour. Just then she recalls that today Aunt Mary went out with Madam Camila. She had arranged some donation program for the children and needs Aunt Mary as an assistant. Jane must be in the maid's quarter. She guessed. Her legs halted on the threshold when her eyes landed on the kitchen island. "God, stop." It was Jane moaning. Micaela's eyes doubled the size and she covered her mouth witnessing the sight.

CHAPTER THREE: FORBIDDEN CLUB Jane's POV: I couldn't tell if I was going to puke or faint. The women around me had either resigned themselves to their fate or they paced, and some of them silently cried. I couldn't imagine what they had been through. I could smell their sweat through the cheap perfume they used to cover it up. It was clear that some of the women hadn't bathed in days. How could people treat other human beings this way? I was tapping the heel of my stiletto nervously against the floor. How could my father do this to me?

Jane said then Mrs Silva came to them as well holding Mercy with her. " Good morning ma" Jane and her sister greeted. " morning.....my daughter, thank you so much for what you did for our family" Mrs Silva said. " it's nothing" Jane said. " What's your name again ?" Mrs Silva asked. " Maryjane" she answered. " how's your family ?" Mrs Silva asked. " they are fine ma" she replied. " Are you married?" Mrs Silva asked and Jane stared at Desmond. " No ma" Jane replied.

“I don’t like beating around the bush I prefer going back to the starting line. Years back you shot a woman at a stadium in New York, you were arrested, jailed but got bailed out by the popular drug dealer, Alasdair Aindreas.” “I had no option, I was pregnant I needed shelter.” “And you made a soul, lifeless.” “I’m so sorry,” Jane busted into tears, “I was stupid.” Mary walked to the woman, a little smirk glued to her face. “I can help you, but you’ll have to help yourself.” “How?” Jane replied more sorrowfully than the other. “You walk as an event planner for Fred’s Manchester’s wedding, right?” Jane nodded, her eyes trying to unravel what was going on in the lady’s mind. “Yes!”

“Just because of your interceding, I had spent a good time in prison, Your Highness. I even got this gift for serving you well.” The contents of that bag made me roll my eyes as it was full of romance novels. Jane was a typical girl who was dreaming about her soulmate. So, I didn’t pop her bubble of happiness that my life was a living example of destruction, even after finding an extraordinary mate. Nothing good could happen even after having a mate! Jane shared her experiences in prison and spoke nonstop for the whole night. It was a nice change to hear something else instead of the compromises of mated life. She was a great buddy.