Novelas y relatos de The Margot Affair Goodreads

“Depends on how you see it … all good things are better when you have someone to share it with.” He closed in after he said it. Neither of them wants to get deeper into the topic. She went on telling him about her back-packing experiences that she enjoyed so much. Solo traveling to exotic places in all corners of the world. Unattached to anything or anyone, it was clear from the start, that she was a free soul. Something that was not familiar to him. Margot lured him in with her wits and smarts. Maybe it was her traveling, maybe it was her reading, maybe it was the various jobs she worked on that made her so insightful. There was an ease about her that enticed him, she was easy to be with.

That part was never in question. Something shifted in Margot's face. Very small. Very real. 'Yes,' she said. 'That part was never in question.' They sat with the tea for a while longer. They talked, cautiously at first and then with more ease, about Rowan as a child, about things Elara did not know and wanted to know, about the estate and the study and the photograph of the young man squinting into the sun. Margot told her a story about him at sixteen that made Elara laugh, a genuine laugh, and Margot's face at the sound of it did something that was almost, not quite but almost, the beginning of warmth.

It was dangerous. I pushed past Scott and rushed out. He followed. When I told him about the camera, his face went pale. He clearly hadn't known. So what was Colin planning? Installing a camera? Recording this? Scott tried to leave, but I grabbed his arm. "You need to tell me what's going on." He hesitated, then exhaled like he had made up his mind. He told me everything. Years ago, Natalie had been involved in prostitution. Scott had spent a fortune and called in every favor he had to keep it off her record.

To me, it would have felt like a funeral. Rigoberto Richardson sat at the head of the table. He looked miserable. His jaw was set so tight I thought his teeth might crack. He poked at his food but didn't eat a single bite. Across from him, Margot was the complete opposite. She was glowing. She laughed at something Portia said, her eyes bright with a cruel sort of triumph. "Oh, Margot," Portia giggled, swirling her red wine. The liquid stained her lips like blood. "You really should see the comments online. They are absolutely destroying her. I almost feel a little bit sorry for the girl."

“No, we’re still filing for divorce.” “Then you have your answer. I wouldn’t waste my time playing these games when I know it won’t change anything. I’d rather sleep, like now, so I can still serve you another time. If you don’t have anything else to say, I’d like to sleep alone tonight, Justin.” I was left speechless. Margarette took a deep breath and added, “Justin, listen carefully.” She unwrapped part of the blanket, revealing her cleavage, but her angry expression made it impossible to enjoy the view. Instead of feeling threatened, I thought she looked like an angry kitten.

Harry said. If Margot didn’t know about his affair, she’d be fooled by those words of his. “There’s no problem,” Margot said and smiled. “You even said it yourself, we’re fine. If you’re saying that, then we have nothing to worry about,” she continued, taking her clothes off and going under the shower. “I want to help you, that’s why I’m working in the company now. You won’t refuse my help, right?” she added, running her hands on her wet hair.

she called, trying to keep her voice steady. The door opened, and Marguerite, their housekeeper, stepped inside. “Good morning, Mrs. Davenport,” she said, her tone neutral. “Mr. Davenport would like to see you in his study when you’re ready.” Clara nodded, unable to speak. Marguerite lingered for a moment before quietly closing the door behind her. This was it. The moment Clara had been dreading. She stood up, smoothing down her dress and taking a deep breath.

I shrugged. “I forgot your cook left. He couldn’t…” she stopped mid-sentence. Mentioning the cook brought back an unwanted memory, how I had drugged that old man, hoping he’d sleep with me. But that failed too. Nothing came out of it. “Rita! Rita!” Eleanor called, snapping her fingers. “What are you thinking about? Or… have you finally understood what I mean?” “What are you even saying?” “I’m talking about Mr Andrew. Your husband’s friend. He’s… talented. Every woman he’s slept with has gotten pregnant.”

Xavier nodded his head as he clenched his jaws. Margarette didn't know what they were talking about. She was just happily eating her strawberries while watching them. Her heart was at content. After their talk last night, she was more than happy to be able to live with him. She knew in her heart that he wasn't a bad man everybody says he was. He's a good husband to her... Xavier suddenly turned his head towards her direction. Their eyes met. His face was dark and he looked murderous. She flashed a sweet smile and waved her hands in his direction, totally oblivious of the rage emitting from him.

Or was she in trouble? I wasn't exactly close to Margot to know all these things. I continued cleaning, trying to ignore the feeling of dread that was starting to creep up on me. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that something bad was about to happen. But I kept telling myself that I was just being paranoid, that there was nothing to worry about. I gagged as I lifted the trash can and dumped the contents into a bigger trash bag. I couldn't believe Margot had let her office get to this state. I continued to clean, picking up the scattered papers and arranging them on the desk. As I was cleaning, I noticed a stack of papers that looked different from the others. They were