Zoe Pearson Novels & Stories

When he was about to open it he saw his mom and Zoe coming down. Scot looked at Zoe and saw she was wearing a black short frock with straps and he just didn't know how to describe her beauty. She is also Wearing the pearl earrings and the necklace he bought for her. She's just so fucking gorgeous. And then his mom, she's just fucking gorgeous with her white dress.

Suddenly they heard people screaming, Mrs Anabel George beep through the window and she saw zombies everywhere. Her heart was beating like bell she couldn't look. "What happened" Grace asked her mother then she walked close to the window and also beep her heart couldn't take what she saw then she she collapsed.

“Let me work, woman! I already got written up once and I’m one slip away from getting fired for cause. If anyone sees me laughing now, I’m done. We’ll talk later, I promise. But without an audience, okay?” Zoe placed a hand dramatically over her chest. “I swear. But I want every detail. No skipping commas, no changing intonation. I want to know the rival’s underwear color if possible.” Celina shook her head, still smiling. “Marruá Panther… that’s a new one.” Zoe was already halfway out the door but spun around dramatically to add: “And a powerful one! Panther in heels and a blazer. A legend was born today!” Celina laughed again, lighter this time, more alive.

"Sit. Please." Zoe does not sit. She stands with her arms crossed over her chest, her jaw tight. "Twenty years ago," Eleanor begins, "I was David Cole's secretary. I was also his lover. When he was killed, I knew I was next. So I ran. I changed my name. I changed my face. I buried myself in a life that did not exist."And you had a child." Zoe's voice is ice. "You had me."

Not anymore. Zoe sighed, pushing aside the thoughts that threatened to linger. She had a job—a real one. She wasn’t just Adonis Walter’s contract wife. She was Zoe Powers, a five-star therapist. Reaching for her phone, she decided that if this so-called honeymoon was already a disaster, she might as well get back to work. She scrolled through her messages, checking for new clients. Most were familiar—high-profile names she had worked with before or new referrals. But one stood out.

she bemoaned, as she tried to suck in her tears. “The lady you are talking about is the CEO of ZOELVA? Zoe Oliver?!” Justine’s eyes widened, her face turning pale.

That day was Zoe's birthday. The dazzling fireworks outside looked just like the flames that engulfed my father. 'Dad, if you knew the truth, would your heart ache as much as mine?' I thought. Leonard's phone screen hadn't turned off. On it was a newly liked post from his feed. Zoe had posted three private photos of herself in a dress, captioned, "The secret to beauty is drinking lots of warm water. Let's all stay beautiful in the new year!"

“You’re Ash?” Ash nodded carefully. Zoe flashed a grin. “I’m Zoe. Zoe Romano. I can do splits and eat four donuts without fainting.” Krystal sighed. “Zoe, that’s not how normal people introduce themselves.” “But it’s cool, right?” Zoe turned to her. “Right, Mom?” Krystal hugged her from behind, then looked at me. “Zane, why does your kid look like an intern being forced to give a PowerPoint presentation?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Because he just realized his cousin is your smaller, louder clone.”

She stared at the unfamiliar number blinking on the screen before tentatively answering, “Hello?” A professional voice responded from the other end, “Hello, Madam. My name is Lia Watson. I am calling from the Commissioner’s office. I am looking for Mrs Pearson. Am I speaking with her?” Mrs Pearson looked at her son and said, “Speaking. How may I help you, Miss Watson?” Miss Watson skipped any pleasantries and replied, her voice devoid of emotion, "Mrs Pearson, please be advised that your daughter, Zara Pearson, has sustained life-threatening injuries.” Mrs Pearson thanked her, then they hung up.

He looks like he’s smirking and enjoying this. “Fine.” I shrug and begin walking as Liam walks behind me, silently. Good. I reach Zoe’s salon and see her talking to one of the elderly customers, Mrs Zinger who has her nails done without fail every other week. They’re looking at colors and I bet Mrs Zinger is going to opt for Tropical Orange. Apparently it’s her favorite. She’s a sprightly eighty-year old and the whole town loves her. “Hey girl. You’re back. So good to see you.” Zoe comes rushing over and gives me a hug, takes a step back and notices there’s a man behind me. Not any man, a man who looks like David Beckham. Seriously he does.