Mrs Mellark Novels & Stories

“Do you want me to drop you off at the bus station?” “No, no,” she replies, waving her hand at me. “Nellie drove me. I’ll see you in two weeks.” I watch her leave, and when I hear the door close, my smile fades. Mrs. Mallory’s husband used to work in my office as a security guard before he passed away last year. She wanted to remain independent of their children, so I gave the elderly widow a job managing my house. She enjoys it, and I get hot meals and an organized home. She’s a sweet old lady, and her presence in this house that I built for myself makes me feel a little less alone.

Why have the milk when you could get the whole cow? She was here for Henry and it did not matter that he had married that waste of a rich snob, Elodie. She was going to have him and this was just step one of her elaborate plan, not even his mother would be able to stop her. “Do you want to go somewhere?” She winked at him. Henry smiled, he was also drunk and there was no way he could drive back home in this state neither did he want to go home. “Sure” He agreed.

We were explaining what role he was going to play in the Purple Dream campaign, when the phone started ringing again, and since I was sitting on the couch with Jonny, it was Eli who answered to hang up after five seconds. “Shrek requests your immediate presence in his office, Miss Martin.” She mumbled after hanging up. “Who?” Jonny looked confused. “Mark.” we answered in unison. She laughed in amusement, instead I started to feel completely nervous. I bolted to the office of Mark without regarding the mockery made by the idiots who stayed in my office, and once in front of the door, I wiped the sweat from my palms with my skirt and subtly touched, hearing his voice from inside telling to com

The doorbell rang. Chantelle froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She heard her cousin Isabella get up to open the door. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she heard the sound of someone else coming into the house. After a few moments, her uncle came back into the kitchen, followed by his wife. "Chantelle," Rosemary her uncle's wife called out. "Yes ma" She answered."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Westly. You've worked for the Larkins for so many years, so of course mistakes can happen. Why don't you start cleaning up?" She spoke as though she were the madam of the house. Marge Westly was shocked. She gaped at Skyler in disbelief. Why did this woman's speech and actions remind her of the previous madam so much? Not to mention, this was their first meeting. How did she know her name, and how did she know that she had worked for the Larkins for many years? Marge stared at Skyler. "Who are—" Before she could ask that question, she heard Chester say, "This is my guest. Go clean this up."

However, he couldn't even see the expression on her face due to the mask she was wearing. Feeling elated, Karen turned to the masked woman with a smile as she stretched out her hand, “Sorry for my husband’s rudeness, but he’s Kris Miller, the CEO of Miller Textiles, and I’m his wife, Karen Miller.” “Nice to meet you, Karen," the masked woman said as she shook Karen’s hand. “You can call me T.” Her voice was filled with nothing but warmth, which irritated Kris for some reason. “Well, T," Linda Miller stepped forward to take control of the conversation again. “There’s something I would like to discuss with you. It’s about both of our fashion businesses."

KNIGHT MANSION Eleanor paced the room, her mobile pressed tightly against her ear, while Millie’s voice echoed with concern. “Millie, calm down,” Eleanor urged, her tone firm yet reassuring. “I'll talk to Mr. Smith. And no, your job is not at risk. I won't find another Professional Assistant like you." Millie, Eleanor’s trusted Personal Assistant, had called again with updates on their client, Mr. Smith. The upcoming shoot for a baby care product was crucial, with significant funds already invested. Eleanor couldn't afford to cancel the contract, not just financially but also for her career's sake.

Elodie's POV I tried to remain unaffected since I was thrown into this closet of a room. Nothing but useless chairs and a chain wrapping my ankle to a shackle held fast in the wall. After almost giving myself a concussion by throwing the plastic seating in a frenzy, I tired myself enough to sit and listen. Maybe for an out or maybe just to validate that this was even reality. After nearly six months of bliss as Mister and Missus Mellark, it appeared our past caught up with us-more specifically, his legacy had.

He opened the door; a middle-aged woman stood outside holding a folder. She smiled politely. “Good morning.” “Morning,” Ruin replied. “I was hoping to speak with Elara.” She said. I looked up from the dining table, and the woman immediately smiled at me. "Mrs Cross?” “Yes,” I whispered. Relief crossed her face. “Good. I was worried I might have the wrong address.” Ruin stepped aside, the woman entered, and she introduced herself as Marianne; she managed a local community centre located several towns away. After sitting down, she opened her folder.

I feel my face flushing. “It’s okay, Keller. I’m a server at the Cozy Up Cafe, Mrs. Marshall,” Zara explains. “Keller is one of our regulars.” “So you’re local, Zara? Are you a member of Emerald Mountain, or maybe Crystal Lake?” Mom smiles. It looks genuine, but I know better.