What Once Was Hers Novels & Stories

He didn’t look up from his reports, but she felt his gaze follow her anyway. If he asked where she was going, she would lie. If he didn’t, she would wonder if he already knew. Outside, the rain had softened to a whisper. The car that waited for her wasn’t one of the family’s. Just a plain black sedan, unmarked, arranged discreetly by a message sent at dawn. When she stepped inside, she didn’t look back at the mansion. She didn’t dare. --- Valmere Square had long since lost its glory. Once a lavish botanical conservatory owned by one of their ancestors, it now stood forgotten, swallowed by time and ivy. The greenhouse behind it was a relic of glass and rust, a skeleton of what had been paradi

It had now become a guest house, and the new owner who purchased it had expanded its horizon. As they walked on, she talked so much about her past, the dreams she had when she was much younger, her life as a popular heroine in the countryside, and how things had changed so much now since the last time she came. She told her old tales that were attributed to Montauk too, and they stopped at the market to purchase fresh fruits and vegetables. After leaving the market, Jasmine then led the way, until they got to where Bassett’s graveyard was, since Zoe asked to see her.

Before she could answer, he cut in. "Doesn't matter. If you do, dump him. Be with me. I'll wire you fifty grand a month." She said nothing. Just looked at him. He dropped his gaze, brow tightening. "Too little? I'll double it—" "Sure." His head snapped up. She was still smiling. That blinding smile—same one he saw the first time they met, one summer long ago... "What's your name?" "Laurel Quinn." And just like that, Hailey became Nolan's kept woman again.

she whispered the word like a fragile thread connecting her to a recollection slowly resurfacing from the depths of her fractured memory. IN THE HEART of the affluent suburbs, nestled behind ornate wrought-iron gates, lay the opulent mansion of the Emerson. The sprawling estate was surrounded by manicured lawns and vibrant gardens, a testament to the family's prosperity. At the center of this world of privilege was young Blanche Lucille Emerson, a child born into the lap of luxury.

Lilian treated her with kindness, based on the assumption that she remained obedient. “Grandma, you were certainly an exquisite person when you were young,” she complimented at the right moment. Mrs. Lilian smiled even more happily. She confidently and shyly said to Hailey, “That’s correct. I was one of the universally recognized beautiful ladies of Holtbay City. Regrettably, the other two ladies have departed. I am the only one left among those three ladies.”

She said, with a little smug which she had from the first. Honey. The word is so relatable with her voice which is bold yet soft and sweet yet salty. I didn't give up on my attitude so I stepped towards her. This time, she let her hands fall down her thighs as she stepped back. I kept stepping forward until she hit the nearest wall. “Don't you think so, dear? Then let me show you who I am and where you are.” I gripped her neck tightly, making her almost choke to death. She struggled to speak and make noise but she tried to remove my hands on her neck and push me away. My tall and strong body would never give her a chance to push me away so easily. Because I'm not easy.

With one sharp pull, she'd torn the sleeve of my T-shirt. "With this kind of quality, you're still pretending to be a rich heiress?" Her smirk widened in mockery. But then, as if struck by lightning, her face froze.

“I know.” “You don’t,” she says. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t act like this now.” “Like what.” “Like you’re back for duty.” She gestures around. “House. Food. Workers. Me.” “That’s not—” “You’re doing it again,” she says. “Protecting something that isn’t fragile.” I look at her then. Really look. She’s not wrong. I drag a hand over my face. “I don’t know how else to be.”

My grip on the glass tightened and I muttered cuss words. He leaned forward to whisper something into her ears. It made her smile. Both soon exited the club and I immediately knew what would follow. I gulped down the remaining of my scotch and trailed behind them closely. He led her into his truck parked in the driveway. My jaw clenched. When did she become a whore? What turned her into this? She changed already. This wasn't the same girl from nineteen years ago... My anxiety leveled up when I saw the truck rev and drive off. I ran to my newly bought Tesla, hopped in, trailing behind the truck thereafter. Thankfully, it was easy for me to tail them because it was a truck not some random car.

For the past 300 years, I have never come across such a good scent of blood, the smell of it so hypnotising and alluring that it pulls you to it, making you lose your sanity completely. The lady that was in my arms was that rare gem, I wonder how she escaped the clutches of my kind but then she was never going to escape mine, because once she is in arms, she is there to stay. I first saw her at the afterparty last night, although the scent wasn't strong because of the presence of a lot of people, I still felt like she was the one. Standing by the balcony, staring back at me. I just stepped out for an important issue for a short while and when I came back, she was gone. To be able to meet wit