Woman With A Book Novels & Stories

Isabel mouthed in appreciation, taking the seat on the right side. Behind the woman was a floor-to-ceiling shelf with countless neatly arranged books, and on the walls were posters of babies and pregnant women. Her desk was well organized, from her PC to the pen-holder and notebooks and notepad. Everything in the woman's small office was in order. "So, Ms. Hadid, what may I do for you today?" The woman asked Isabel after she'd sat down. "Your report here doesn't show you're pregnant, so what may be the case?"

Take as much time as you need, "she muttered and left. I stood in the doorway and took deep breaths. When I was so sure I was okay, I opened the door. The room was orderly. Books on two shelves and a smaller stack on the table by the window. More than I expected. The spines were worn in the way of books that had been read more than once. A woman sat in the chair by the window with her back to me. Slight. Dark hair. Her hands rested on the arms of the chair with a stillness that did not read as passive. The straightness of her posture was not rigid. It was just how she held herself.

No one acknowledged me beyond quick, nervous bows. I was the Mafia Prince's wife. The newest acquisition. Something to be wary of but not engaged with. I found myself drawn to the library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, leather chairs, the smell of old paper and expensive scotch. A room that felt lived in. Real. I ran my fingers along book spines. History, philosophy, military strategy. Fiction mixed with fact. Someone in this family actually read. Actually thought. "Finding everything satisfactory?" I spun. A woman stood in the doorway. Older, maybe fifty. Elegant gray suit, hair swept into a perfect chignon. She looked like money and authority and absolutely no nonsense.

Her breath hitched a little at my close proximity, and slowly her eyes looked up into mine. "I was." she stuttered, staring at me. "Just, um. In the library, I found something that I thought was pretty interesting." She piqued my curiosity, and I gestured for her to show me. "What is it?" She pulled the book from underneath her arm and scanned through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. Turning the book towards me, she showed me a photo of a soft, elegant woman with regal attributes. Her long white hair flowed down over her shoulders, and a tall red and gold crown sat upon her head.

I had almost forgotten they speak these since Damien stopped some time after I was brought to this pack. “Hey come on.” Linda turned to me swiftly before walking into another room. Walking into the room filled with nothing more than long rows of shelves filled with books to the brim, a quite aged woman was sitting at a table, reading a book with her eyeglass fixed on the bridge of her nose. “Hello, Mrs. Kennedy.” Linda greeted, keeping a smile on her face. “Hello, how may I help you?” She did not look friendly, not even one bit, she looked like she was mad for getting disturbed. Linda immediately pulled the stealer’s book from her back, placed it on the table and hurriedly flipped through th

The older woman didn't respond, instead, she walked over to the clinic cupboard to pour a glass of water for the young woman laying on the bed. Aurora accepted it gratefully, her throat was indeed dying to be soothed. "I'm here to visit you, nothing else " The woman spoke. Aurora was sure she had never seen this woman in her entire life, why would she come to visit her. The woman began to flip through the pages of her red book again, earning Aurora's curiosity. "What is that? " The woman looked up, her expression was neutral. "I tend to forget things easily, this helps to remember "

She could faintly hear her shoes’ heels tapping against the floor as she walked through the hall. Right at the very end of the room is a gray door and there are three numbers written on it. One of those was her room number, she pursed her lips into a thin line and walked straight towards it. However, as she was striding, the door at the left suddenly swung open and what came out was a woman who looked like she was drilled to death with how unkempt her hair and attire were. Her under eyes looked terrible as a man came out after her, holding a bimbo-looking girl clinging on to him like a goddamned monkey.

Dangerous in a way that wasn’t loud but quiet, careful, and packed with hidden truths. She walked slowly past fiction, biographies, self-help. Then stopped. In the poetry section, a woman stood with her back to her. Curly auburn hair, longer than in the photo. A trench coat. Fingers thumbing through a worn copy of Milk and Honey like it wasn’t just a book but a memory. “Elena?” Ava said. The woman turned slowly. Her face was older. Not in years though there were fine lines around her eyes but in the way grief and silence age a person.

When she stepped in, she posed at the door, holding my gaze like she was expecting something from me. I offered a small, polite smile before returning my attention to my book. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, and I certainly wasn’t in the mood for entertaining a stranger’s ego. Before I could read an entire paragraph, the book was yanked from my hands so quickly that my fingers stung from the force. I watched in horror as the woman flung it across the room. The hard cover smacked against the bookshelf on the far end of the library before tumbling to the floor with a dull thud.

Present day. A beautiful woman stood in the library of an ancient castle that had been preserved to this day. She was accompanied by a middle-aged man and his wife. They were talking in serious tones. The library was like an ocean of books, row after row of shelves packed full and reaching almost to the ceiling. The clean marble floor and dust-free books showed how well the place was maintained. “I love this place. It’s incredible, and so spotless,” said the woman with long, flowing hair, her voice smooth and melodic.