Patricia Elizabeth Gaffikin Novels & Stories

“I will try, and congrats on your promotion, Chief.” “Thank you,” ~ Three days of no action felt like hell to Patricia. She had done all sorts of things to keep herself busy—cook, play video games, eat, play video games, cook, play video games, then eat again. That had been her regular routine during those three days. So boring! Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Patricia groaned, rolling on the bed too lazy to stand up. She asked, "Eny, who is at the door?" "A pregnant lady whose name is Mrs. Chloe Miller, working in the F.C.A as a record officer," the artificial intelligence responded in a robotic voice.

I stood up quickly, then dropped to my knees in front of her, grabbing her cold fingers in mine. “Emma, what do you mean ‘gone’? Tell me!” She glanced fearfully toward the door, then leaned in close. “They told me not to say anything… but Elizabeth… Patricia, I think is dead. They took me that night to finish her task.” I stared at her, confused and terrified. “You’re scaring me. You’re not making sense—” Without another word, she slowly sat up, wincing with every movement. Then she pulled off her top.

“I know Eleanor didn’t just hate you because of your last name. She hated you because she saw herself in you. And because she knew you were the key to exposing everything.” Anita stared at her mother, stunned. “How do you know that?” Patricia swallowed. “Because I was there. Years ago. Before you were born. Before everything.” She sank onto the armchair, wringing her hands. “Gregor and Eleanor—there was something between them once. A twisted alliance. He helped her funnel money through the company when she needed to cover up losses from a failed overseas merger. In exchange, she protected him from internal investigations. They built a network of lies that kept growing. Offshore accounts. Fak

After a moment, a series of faint rustling sounds from the other side transmitted thru the mobile in my hands before her voice echoed beside my ears. "Whoa, then congrats, your 'flower' was finally 'watered'! Helga, girl I am so proud of you! You fucking go on and multiply, like literally" Patricia burst out laughing. Her merry laughter echoes in the four corners of the room. "Patricia Beethoven Gimenez! No, no, what if we never use any protection and he has STD’s? I’m doomed!" "Ok, ok," Patricia fake a cough to clear her throat.

Patricia had been watching us all this time? “But she’s dead,” I whispered, voice barely holding steady. “So who’s still doing this?” Martinez flipped a page in his notebook, his eyes meeting mine. “We found one more thing in her files. Patricia had another daughter. Not Rebecca. A secret daughter she never admitted to. Her name is Diana Moore. She lives right here in the city.” He paused, the silence stretching. “And she works at Evan’s school. As his teacher’s aide.”

Patricia convinced Bi Minnie who finally complied and went to the next room. Disdain greeted her, but Patricia, undeterred, walked over. "Hi everyone! Meet me Patricia wife of Dimitri!" He greeted her in a friendly manner, ignoring the petty and cynical glances towards him. One stepped forward, a woman in a fitting emerald green dress, wrapping her slender body, her hair tied up as high as possible to reveal diamonds on her slender neck. "Nice to meet you," he said as he scanned Patricia's appearance. "It seems you are interested in my clothes," said Patricia so that the woman whose name she did not know laughed.

I say clearing my throat as I run my fingers over my skirt. Not a Diamond anymore Zoira, don't forget it again. “And I am Patricia Clifford, Miss Zoira assistant." Pat grins, practically drooling at the young man, he just nods, presses his large palm against the door as he steps out. “Oh my goodness, that was hot. Our new investor needs some investing." Pat giggles, causing me to gasp at how inappropriate she can be. " Don't say that silly.” I swat her hand away from my hair, my eyes automatically drifting to Caison's office.

“Mrs. Cessley, I have one more question I’d like to ask of you.” When Mrs. Cessley hurried her to sleep, Alicia grabbed her arm and looked into her eyes. She hesitated momentarily before parting her lips, “Do you happen to know the name Patricia?” Mrs. Cessley tilted her head. “…I can’t remember well. What is her noble status?” “I saw it in the book you gave me. Her last name is Olbach, and I understand that she’s the wife of Gaith Olbach.”

Not yet. “I am telling you the truth,” I said, my tone calm, unwavering. “My name is Patricia. I am twenty nine years old.I am from Texas.I used to work for the governor for a few months before he recommended me for your family” I repeated everything that I had read about Patricia in her file and what Cyber told me . “ I have been vetted, trained, and I passed the interview just as required. What else do you want?”

Leah stood in Diana Cole’s sewing room, staring at Elaine’s tablet while the name seemed to darken on the screen. Patricia Lang. Family-authorized textile lead. The words did not fit together. They looked official enough to pass through an administrative office, but wrong enough to make Leah’s stomach turn. Patricia was not a seamstress. Not a preservation expert. Not family. She was a woman who knew how to stand beside powerful people and make their control look like care. She knew forms, categories, gentle voices, and the exact language required to erase refusal. The last time Leah had heard Patricia speak, every sentence had felt like a soft-gloved hand closing around someone else’s throa