Matilda Novels & Stories

Fatma Mathilda was the pack leader and it meant she was the wolf. Hana was always the caring mother, like an orangutan. Agnes was the cub fox. Abigail was their deer. And Edith was the little pup. Fatma knew she was nothing, but a little scaredy hummingbird. But not anymore. Fatma promised herself that she would be now changed, and that she would slay her battles and save those who need saving like she was before. And like Linda now.

He lamented. “Hey, it's not your fault." She said as Steve helped Ale out of the car. A cab parked in front of their house and the new maid got out with her luggage's walking towards them. “Hi, I'm Roberta the new maid." She greeted. She was a young lady, around 19-20 years old and a college student. “Hello Roberta, come on in," Kathy said as she wheeled Ale in with the maid in tow. “Zoëlla, Bienvenida a casa ( Welcome home )." Her grandma greeted her at the door as she hugged her.

Matilda is known as a crazy lady in the pack village, no one wishes to associate with her ever since she lost her husband, her child, and her sanity —they all called her a witch. But, Shawn and Lady Macbeth we're an exception —they knew the lady needed care and not negligence. "You are here to seek about the alpha slave who possesses the mark on his chest," Matilda revealed, her boisterous laughter resonating eerily from the room. Shawn trembled a bit as he moved close to Lady Macbeth, as much as he used to come to this place most times with Lady Macbeth —he still fears the old crazy lady who loves hiding inside her room wheneve

MANILA, PHILIPPINES IMG 771 was one of the best airliners Chloe had ever seen. Everything was nothing but luxury from its intricate modern minimalist interiors and amenities down to its mouthwatering set of cuisine. The prominence, as well as the exuberance, were fair and legit. The supremacy was lit! Of course, that was not her first ride. It was just now that she recognized the grandeur of his private jet. She was too groggy before to even appreciate this beauty. Shame on her, yes.

the girl name is Matilda, one of they can be called friends by these twins. Matilda is tall and sexy, with the eyes of an alluring sex goddess. The way she looked at her customer, especially if it is a man *cough*, yes similar to how the sluts in the slums. If there is a chance, I'll go down personally and bang her. "Ahem, we have an urgent report regarding of the monster in the west gate. We've spotted a mad bull," Zia's report. "Mad bull?" Matilda questioned.

"Trisha. Please pass me that glass plate, " Mrs Macaulay says to her daughter. "Mum, have it," Trisha says now handing over the glass to her mum. "I hope you have found a lesson tutor?" Mrs Macaulay a fair-skinned lady in her late forties asks.

But her eyes gleamed with something sharper—something that cut deeper than her teasing ever could. “I haven’t seen her,” Olinda said simply, turning back to organize her tools. The clink of glass filled the silence. “But I was told she looks like Laida.” Matilda’s eyes brightened with delight. “Oh, I’ve seen her,” she said, her voice lowering to a whisper that seemed to crawl along the walls. She took a step closer, her words slithering between them like smoke. “She really does look like your mother, Queen Laida. But that’s not what struck me most.”

Jane scrambled to retrieve the garment from the carry-on. Matilda’s movements were meticulous as she reapplied her makeup—contouring her cheekbones to sharp perfection, outlining her lips with a precise crimson hue, and ensuring her brows arched just right. With deft hands, she undid her messy updo, letting her freshly styled golden waves cascade down. By the time the plane touched down, she was flawless once more. As they disembarked, Matilda didn’t spare a glance at the private airstrip’s staff. The limousine she had pre-arranged waited at the terminal. She slid into the back seat, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against

Staring at the stylized monogram 'X.V.LR' boldly written on the luxurious golden airframe, Matilda stood there contemplating whether to go inside or not, her long blonde hair dancing in the air behind her. Racing thoughts that made her escape reality filled her head as barely any of the things happening in the hangar came to her notice.

“You may call me Madam Matilda. I am the matriarch of the female members of Nordau Bloc.” Her smile deepened. “And, in case you weren’t aware… I’ve taken quite a liking to you.” Cassandra’s heart gave a nervous flutter. Compliments like that rarely came without a price. She forced a small smile. Cassandra stared at her, her eyes occasionally flickering away from Matilda's ‘cheery’ gaze. “For the success of your second task,” Matilda continued, her tone almost too pleasant, “I’ve prepared a special gift.” Her hands slipped from behind her back, revealing a long, slender object wrapped carefully in