Mrs Thornhill Novels & Stories

The grand entrance hall of Blackwood Manor felt less like the interior of a home and more like the inside of a ancient, hollowed-out oak. Massive timber beams arched high overhead, supporting a vaulted ceiling where iron chandeliers hung low, casting long, flickering shadows across dark stone walls. The air was heavy with the scent of woodsmoke, old parchment, and something indefinably wild,a musk that made the skin on the back of Noah’s neck prickle.

Catherine was running late for her class when she passes by the dance hall and hearing the unnamed professor say something about the auditions. There, Catherine already knew that it was Lyra who’d been receiving this unnecessary lecture, so she gathered all her guts, took a deep breath and pushed the door open, entering the dance hall. Everyone in the class looked at her with their eyes widened, including Brittany, who was looking at Catherine with flirting eyes, Lyra, whose eyebrows were furrowed and nearly in tears, and the instructor with a confused expression plastered on his face.

“Wren, you’re my wife. I’m going to take care of you.” Trying again, I managed to get propped up on my elbows. “But . . . you’re so busy.” “Stop arguing with me, Mrs. Lockwood, or I’ll bring out my other personality, Dr. Brighton, and he’ll put you in your place.” My eyes widened, and I lay back down to comply. I closed my eyes and stopped trying to get him to go back to work. I didn’t want Dr. Brighton from Thorntown to come out. I was slowly becoming well versed in all his movies and characters.

Callie just gave her a wide doggy smile. After cleaning up, they pulled out Rose’s futon and curled up together. Although the sex was amazing, Seth had to admit he liked this part almost as much. Which meant he was turning into a total sap. He could just imagine what Max would’ve said: Watch out. You’re not getting out of that trap anytime soon, man. Seth moved his hand under his pillow, only to find a book there. He pulled it out. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. “Oh, I’d forgotten I’d put that there.” Rose took the book from him, smiling. “This is one of my favorites.” Her eyes widened. “The hero’s name is Mr. Thornton, actually. John Thornton.”

"Perhaps, but that's not all there is to you, Olivia. I'm married. To a woman who still doubts my sexuality after my first marriage to a man. When this gets out, it will make life difficult for me. Watching you reach out to Stella made us both brave enough to speak. Didn't it, Miss Jennings?" Mrs. Thorne said, her eyes leaving mine for Stella's. "Yes, Mrs. Thorne. Thank you, Miss Hunter. Thank you both," the secretary all but tripped over her words.

Thorne could only stare at her wordlessly. "And by the way, how's she faring given that the news is everywhere? It'd be hard for her to even show her face." She mocked with a smile as she turned around, backing him while making hand demonstrations. " 'Headline news: Business mogul Thorne Mikaelson has been discovered to have an affair with his son's fiancée.' Oh, the shame." She chuckled evilly as she continued to hurl insults at him and ridicule him.

A crystal chandelier cast a warm glow over the foyer, and the air hung heavy with the scent of lilies and something else – wealth, perhaps? A woman materialized from a side hallway, her smile as polished as the marble floor. She was dressed in a crisp uniform that somehow managed to look both elegant and practical. "Welcome to Thorne Manor, Mrs. Thorne," she greeted, "I'm Clara, one of the household staff. I'll be showing you to your room." Following Clara up the staircase, my heart hammered against my ribs. Every step, every rustle of fabric seemed to amplify my nervousness. We reached a landing, and Clara gestured towards a doorway at the end of the hallway.

I opened a private, encrypted chat with a contact saved only as 'The Shadow. Me: It is done. She has been cast out. The campus sees her as a harlot now. Her reputation is ash. And her emotions are probably in shambles. I know her well, she's about to do something irrational. The reply came a second later. The Shadow: You did well, Mary. The sheep always turn on the one the shepherd leaves behind. Keep watching her room. The battle is about to begin.

"What's the point of obsessing over some random girl who vaguely resembles her?" "What do you mean she's not in town?" I demanded. Vincent turned back to face me. "You don't know the gist?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "What gist?" "Remember Uncle Dorian's first wife?" Vincent prompted. "Miss Ivy?" I replied, searching my memory. "Yeah, more like Mrs. Roth now," Vincent corrected. "She came back and claimed everything. There was even a court order that declared she's the real Mrs. Roth and made Chelley's marriage illegal."

She was already thinking of going back, because this was not what she expected. “Mr. Thorne, what is this?” she asked, her tone sharp, eyes cold. “Is this a business meeting or something else entirely?” Mr Thorne chuckled softly, unbothered. “Excuse my shamelessness,” he said, brushing his fingers lightly across the rim of his glass, “but I could not resist. The temptation of being in a date with the infamous Vanessa smith was too much?”