Rachel Sharma Novels & Stories

Isitree. Sleek, sophisticated, and nearly untouchable. Until now. Lauren handed Rachel a stack of documents. “You’re going in as her new personal assistant. They’re short-staffed. You’ll apply and get the job. Once you’re in... I’ll give you your next move.” Rachel gave a sharp grin. “I won’t disappoint you.” She wouldn’t. Rachel was a ghost. A professional spy with a flawless record across Europe. No identity trail. No fingerprints. No past.

"Is that Shravan bhai's sister?" Siddhu whispered to Drishti, looking at the pretty girl talking to Damini. "Yes," Drishti said, narrowing her eyes at her best friend. "She is pretty. What's her name?" he said, still not able to take his eyes off her. "Shreya. And Siddhu, she is a school-going girl," Drishti said. "Which class?" Siddhu asked. "Twelfth." "Great. That would make her a college girl next year," Siddhu said with a grin.

This is what she was thinking about whole night. Krisha leave for her office early in the morning without meeting her family . She messaged , her best friends that ,"let's have dinner together , I need to tell you something important." Including Krisha ,they are four girls . They are best friend's since their high school . Shreya , Anshika ,and Amayra. Shreya is a neurologist . Amayra is a beautician and Anshika is an interior designer. They all are beautiful , intelligent and independent girls . No matter what happened they all were always there whenever, they need eachother . They all are backbone of eachother .

Andrea smiled despite herself. The woman held out one of the cups. “Coffee peace offering?” “Oh, thank you.” “I’m Rachel.” She pointed toward the middle row of desks. “I sit over there, which unfortunately means I hear Harrington complain about spreadsheets at least four times a day.” Andrea laughed softly for the first time that morning. Rachel leaned against the edge of the desk slightly. “First day?” “Is it that obvious?” “You’ve reread the same slide six times.” Andrea groaned quietly. “Was it that obvious too?”

Grace was at the gate, sitting with coffee, watching the board, when the woman sat down beside her. She was in her mid-thirties. Well-dressed in the way of someone who had once paid close attention to how they presented themselves and had recently stopped having the energy for it. Dark hair pulled back. The quality of stillness about her that Grace recognised — not peace, the stillness of someone who had been afraid for long enough that stillness had become a default. She sat down and she said: "Ms. Hartwell. I'm sorry to approach you this way. My name is Priya Sharma."

Prosecutor: Miss Beatrice, where do you work? Beatrice: I presently work at Rachel's studio. Prosecutor: Were you present at the studio on the day of the incident? Beatrice: Yes, I was at the studio. Prosecutor: Do you know the defendant, Lawson Webmar? Beatrice: Yes, I know him very well, I used to work for him at Lawson's group before he dismissed me. Prosecutor: Let's focus on that day. What happened. Beatrice: Rachel was in her office with Aaron when I was told someone had come asking for her. When she stepped out, I saw it was her husband Lawson.

Rachel continued to walk, but when she realized that other people were watching Khea's pathetic display of cozying up to her, she stopped on her heels, and turned to Khea. "You're an aspiring model, aren't you?" Rachel asked. "Yes, I am!" Khea beamed at her answer. Rachel gave her a tight, sinister smile. "Time for you to consider yourself a failed one then, since I will NOT be training you." Khea took a step back at the venom in Rachel's words. "Is... this about Ms. Anna?" she stammered. Rachel raised an eyebrow at her. So the spoiled girl does know about her mistakes.

—and strangely, I’m starting to miss that question. But I’m also getting productive again. Back on the field. Training a new team. Launching a digital literacy program for coastal women. Everything feels like it’s going well. Until one morning, Rachel walked into my office with a face like she’d seen a ghost. “You need to see this,” she said, showing me her phone. On the screen, a TikTok video with 150,000 likes and 10,000 comments. Women silenced for being too smart. The state afraid of voices that can’t be bought. Sara Smith isn’t just talking… she’s a revolution.

Jasmine fumed , walking restlessly "Firstly she wants my shadow and now she even have the mind to flirt with Desmond?" "I need to act fast" Jasmine said "Why are you bothered? I have a perfect plan" Rachel appeared "How did you find me?" "I don't know too. Birds of thesame feathers flock together don't you agree? we both have one goal" Rachel replied walking closer to jasmine "What goal?" "To get rid of Nirvana of course" Rachel smirk "How will you do that?" Jasmine asked "That's a secret" Rachel replied with a smile • • "Let's go home?" Desmond said and Nirvana nodded

"Miss, are you looking for a job? Here's my business card." Rachel read the name on the card and her eyes widened. "You're Nathan Chapman, the president of the Orange Country's largest fashion design firm?!" Nathan Chapman nodded lightly and smiled at Rachel. "That's my name. How should I address you?" Rachel extended her hand hastily in response. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Chapman. I'm Rachel." Nathan did not mind Rachel's dirtied hand even after she ran into him and fell on the ground. He grabbed her hand. "Miss Rachel, I just saw your designs. It's fresh, unique, and your technique is better than many designers I've seen. We need someone with your skillset in our company! Are you interested i