Rachel Roth Dc Novels & Stories

"Thank you for coming. I wasn't sure you would." "Why did you want to see me?" She looked down at her hands. "Because I owe you the truth. The whole truth. Not just the sanitized version I'm giving the prosecutors." I waited. "I know you think I was always plotting against you. That I seduced Allen away from you as part of some grand scheme." She looked up. Met my eyes for the first time. "But that's not how it happened." "Then how did it happen?" Rachel took a shaky breath. "I was nobody. A secretary from Ashwood, Ohio who lied on her resume to get a job at Allen's company. I thought if I worked hard enough, dressed the right way, said the right things, I could become someone who mattered."

Margaret had spent four years being the most controlled person in every room. The room was getting smaller. And the control was starting to slip. Later that evening I was in the Lincoln Square apartment trying to eat dinner and mostly moving food around a plate when my phone rang. A Colorado number. I stared at it. Denver, Colorado. My hand was not entirely steady when I answered. "Is this Bella?" A woman's voice. Quiet. Careful in the way of someone who has learned to be careful. "My name is Rachel. Rachel Voss." The fork went down.

Rachael’s POV I dressed carefully, choosing simple clothes that wouldn't draw attention. Black pants. Gray sweater. My hair pulled back in a practical braid. The Continental Council representatives would arrive within the hour. My hands trembled as I fastened the clasp on my necklace—the one piece of jewelry I'd kept from my old life. I forced them steady. I'd survived Christopher. Survived the siege. I could survive questions. A knock at the door. Kelvin entered without waiting for permission, carrying two mugs of coffee.

Elena nods once, then turns and walks away, her exit a silent declaration of who runs the floor. Rachel watches her go before returning her attention to me. “You’re one of our newer clients, right?” “Yes,” I say, smiling. “Sophia Sterling.” She tilts her head slightly. “The tech heiress.” “That’s the rumor.” Marcus clears his throat gently. “Rachel will be shadowing a few of our on-boarding consultations. I thought it might be good for her to see things from both the staff and client perspectives.” I raise a brow, surprised. That seems like a bit much for a temporary hire.

Edna said, confusion vivid on her face “Shawn Gold, Edna Garter. Leave Shawn alone,” Rachel continued and then paused. “He belongs to me.” “What!?” Edna exclaimed. Rachel ignored her and continued. “Now, I wouldn't have taken these steps if Shawn Gold, oh! Maybe I would have, had he welcomed your advances, but he's not interested in you, Edna Garter. If you ever dare to spare as much as a glance his way again, make sure you vanish from the surface of the earth, because I will find you. I'll kill you in the most brutal way you could ever imagine, and by the time anyone realizes, you'll be long dead and decayed. Even if they manage to trace your murder to me, which is impossible, anyway, I ha

Daniel returned to his office after the meeting with Richard Hayes. His steps were light. The thin smile had not left his lips. Marcus was already waiting inside with a tablet in hand. "Sir, the legal team has sent a complete report on Rachel Chen." Daniel settled into his chair. He took the tablet from Marcus. He began reading with careful attention. Rachel Chen. Age 42. Lawyer specializing in women's rights and domestic violence. Independent practice for the past eight years. A solid track record with a win rate above average.

No more guards hovering. Just Monica, sitting alone with her chains loose but still intact, her wrists red and aching. The overhead light buzzed softly above her. Then the door opened again. This time, it wasn’t Caleb. It wasn’t Chase. It was Rachel. Dressed in cream-colored slacks and a matching coat, her elegance sharp as ever. Her heels echoed on the floor as she walked forward slowly, like a woman ready to face the devil who broke her life in two. Monica blinked through the dim light, then slowly smiled—a tired, tremulous smile.

"Five hundred thousand women. Forty-five countries. Those numbers will keep growing because Rachel will make them grow. Because the staff here tonight will keep doing the work. Because donors will keep funding it. Because the need doesn't stop and neither do we." "Ten years ago I didn't know who I was. I know now. I'm Aria Ashford Rhodes. I'm a mother and a wife and a writer and an advocate and a daughter and a cousin. I'm someone who was made small and chose to become large. I'm someone whose pain was real and whose healing was also real. I'm someone who built something that outlasted the thing that tried to destroy her." I looked at Grace. "My daughter is eight years old. She read my memoi

“Andrea said she met Rachel at Dalking street. Which means she is somewhere around there. That bitch isn’t wise enough to plan a full proof operation…” Victor was saying but was cut off by Logan. “I know all this, Victor. Where is Rachel right now?” he asked. “I don’t have her exact location but she should be in any hotel around Dalking street or that area. Rachel is in debt right now. That’s probably why she is in the slums…Dalking street is in the slums. She should be in any cheap hotel or motel around there…” Victor responded.

Rachel Brookes. Dr. Brighton’s patient in Thorntown. “Hi, Rachel.” Rachel stepped back and looked straight at me, almost like she was dissecting me, before a smile crept onto her face and her eyes softened. “You look a bit frazzled, my dear.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, let’s just say I never in a million years thought I would ever meet a Hollywood actor let alone be here, mingling with hundreds.” She took my hands in hers. “Welcome. I’ve never seen Weston smile so much, and that makes us all so happy. Now hold on tight to him, and don’t ever let go.”