Rachel Roses Novels & Stories

They were greeted a lot as they were escorted to the table and Rose could hardly keep up. They walked up to a table at the best spot and Rose instantly recognized Rachel. She was almost the same height with her and had shoulder length of the same shade of Wayne’s blond hair. But she had piercing brown eyes and Rose had seen enough pictures of Walter to know that she had gotten them from him. Rachel was a very beautiful woman and had a little less flesh than Rose. She was in prime shape; a testament to her profession. She was wearing a simple white jumpsuit but still managed to shine.

Back in Eldridge, in the backyard of Jason's estate, Rachel knelt by her flowerbed, humming a tune as she worked. She wore a flowing cream-colored dress that fluttered slightly with the breeze. A wide straw hat shielded her face, but even then, the grace in her every movement showed. Her hands, though elegant, weren’t afraid of dirt. She held a small pruning shear and gently snipped away a dried leaf from one of her prized roses.

But the smell; burning fabric, plastic, flesh, hit her like déjà vu. She stumbled back, chest heaving. Not again. From the hallway came a final, echoing scream, and then the unmistakable crackle of fire.

Smith's accounts, there haven't been any transactions at all…" John tapped his fingers on the desk, irritable and growled coldly, "She's the one who planted the black roses, didn't she? Always playing such nonsensical tricks just to get me to go looking for her… Just to make me cave to her whims! "Go! Bring some men with you and search every inch of this villa. If she's really in this villa, make her kneel before Lara and apologize! "Also, dig those black roses out, root and all. The very sight of them irritates me!"

she smiled but she wasn’t looking at Rain, she was looking at Alexander. “I’ll lead the way,” the woman even had deep dimples in her cheek when she smiled, she also looked like she knew the kind of effect she had on the people around her. “I’m Rosa Valentine,” she said even though no one fucking asked her for her name. “I’m the manager, the second I heard that you were having a meeting in our humble establishment, I took it upon myself to welcome you personally and see to it that everything will be to your liking,” Great, she was also an ass kisser.

Liam's gaze shifted briefly toward Rachel and Aretha, both stunning in their own distinct ways. Rachel dressed in a blue, off-shoulder dress that flowed gently down to her knees. The dress hugged her frame just enough to highlight her figure without being too revealing. Her hair was styled in waves, giving her an air of quiet elegance. She was a modest beauty that didn't demand attention but naturally drew it.

A drop of tear landed on the back of my hand. I ignored it and made a rose appear out of thin air just like a magician. "When we first started dating, you were nothing but a bouncer. The owner's enemies came looking for trouble. On Valentin's Day, you were severely injured and covered in blood. I was worried sick. I cried helplessly as I looked at your wounds. But what did you do? You pulled out a rose that you had been hiding, and it was covered in blood." Thomas chuckled as he took the rose from me.

Her dominance was subtle but unmistakable. "Rachel, this is Elara Rivers. The one I told you about," Sasha said, stepping aside as though proudly presenting me like some commodity. Rachel Hayes turned, her sharp eyes immediately zeroing in on me. Her calculating gaze swept over every inch of me—my scars, my stance, even the way my hands fidgeted nervously. Emily squirmed under the intense scrutiny. "Experience?" Rachel asked, not wasting time with pleasantries. There was no welcome in her tone, no warmth, just curt professionalism.

The door to my cell clangs open, and Kelly steps inside, flanked by two guards who keep their hands close to their weapons. She looks different now—more disheveled than usual, her pristine robes stained with what looks suspiciously like blood. Her pale eyes are bright with a mixture of frustration and anticipation, and there's a cruel smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Hello, Rachel," she says, her voice honey-sweet with false concern. "I trust you've had time to reconsider your position? Perhaps the sounds from the interrogation chamber have helped clarify the stakes for you?" She gestures casually toward the direction where Elias's screams originated, and I have to fight to keep m

She ordered a cup of tea and waited, her mind wandering through the possibilities. Rachel arrived ten minutes later. She was wearing a simple floral dress that Emma had never seen before, and there was a glow about her that Emma couldn't quite place. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. Her face was bare, without any makeup. She sat down across from Emma, her hands clasped on the table, her eyes bright with barely contained excitement. "Thank you for coming," Rachel said. Emma frowned. "You sound like you're about to give me bad news." Rachel laughed — a nervous, breathless laugh. "No. Not bad news. The opposite, actually."