Mary Lee the Red Cross Girl by Helen Hart
Mary Lee the Red Cross Girl by Helen Hart
Spring at the Farm
"From whom is the letter, Mary Lee?" asked Mrs. Quinn as she glanced up from her sewing.
"From Bobbie, and he says that they will land about the 15th. He wants to come right out here to the country to see our cozy new home. Oh, dear, I can hardly wait to see him!" exclaimed Mary Lee, her eyes sparkling.
"Does he say that the French doctors have helped him any?" further questioned Mrs. Quinn.
"Helped him any?" repeated Mary Lee, "why, he's cured. He isn't a cripple any more at all. Just think, he can walk again, as well as I can. Isn't it a lovely world?" and the impetuous child threw her arms about Mrs. Quinn's neck and gave her a good hug.
Just then a voice from the outside called: "Oh, Mary Lee, come quick. We've found something to show you."
It was Eddie Quinn, the youngest boy, and Mary Lee upon hearing his excited voice, lost no time in rushing out to see what new delight was in store for her.
Mrs. Quinn leaned back in her comfortable chair in the sunny south bay window, and as her eyes wandered about the cheerful room and out over the peaceful woodland view, her thoughts flashed back to the past.
How different things were now from what they had been when Mary Lee-the little waif from the orphanage-had first come into their home as a mother's helper! They were then living in the crowded tenement district of New York City. How much sickness they had had! How often her husband had been thrown out of work! If it hadn't been for hopeful little Mary Lee they all would have lost courage. She put her little shoulder to the wheel with such determination that it seemed as if her efforts had pulled them out of the dreadful rut into which they were gradually sinking.
Yes, Mary Lee was always doing something for somebody. How brave she was the day she had saved Bob Cameron from drowning in Central Park! He was a little crippled boy who lived in one of the stately mansions on Fifth Avenue. A strong friendship, encouraged by Bob's grateful parents, had sprung up between the two children. It had meant much to Mary Lee. Her narrow little life began to broaden out-and consequently so did that of the Quinns. Bob's Aunt Madge had taken a great fancy to Mary Lee and had made it possible for her to become a Campfire Girl.
Then there was dear Doctor Anderson. He had operated on Mrs. Quinn when she had been so ill. Seeing earnest little Mary Lee doing her best to help this worthy but unfortunate family along, he too had become interested. It was he who had made it possible for them to move out in the country where they could live on his farm. Mr. Quinn had shown his gratitude by proving himself a most capable manager the past year.
Was it any wonder as Mrs. Quinn sat thinking over all these things that a tear or two trickled down her cheeks? But it was not from sadness-for her heart was filled with the joy of living, and overflowing with love for Mary Lee, the little girl who had brought good fortune and sunshine into her home.
In the meantime, Tom and Eddie had led Mary Lee over to a low-branched tree to behold their "surprise."
"It's a nest," whispered Eddie. "A real nest. See, it's just new!"
"So it is," said Mary Lee. "What a cozy little home! But where do you suppose Father Bird and Mother Bird are? Did we frighten them away?"
"No," said Eddie, "it was empty when we first saw it. But let's hide and maybe they will come back."
"Oh no," said Mary Lee, "let's go away before they return. If they suspected anyone was around they might move their nest. Won't it be fun when we can see the little bird's eggs, and afterwards the little birdies themselves? But you must not tell anyone about this nest, will you? Now promise," commanded Mary Lee.
Both boys promised. They also agreed not to look at their nest more than once a day.
"Now, see who wins the race to your father over there in the field," challenged Mary Lee. "One, two, three, go!"
The children were off. Tom won the race.
"Huh," said he, "I wouldn't let any girl beat me."
"Well, you wait until next time and maybe you will change your mind," answered Mary Lee.
"Have you come to help, children?" Mr. Quinn greeted them.
While the boys assisted their father, Mary Lee returned to the house. As she came to the kitchen door, she thought she heard voices. Then as she opened the door and went through the kitchen, she heard Mrs. Quinn say:
"She will be here any moment. Won't she be glad to see you both!"
Mary Lee just jumped into the room, for she guessed who the visitors were.
"Aunt Madge and Dr. Anderson-I'm so happy!" And the girl ran into Miss Cameron's arms.
I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive. Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice. "It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison." She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole. I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath. Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him. "I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."
Five years of devotion ended when Brynn was left at the altar, watching Richard rush to his true love. Knowing she could never thaw his cold heart, Brynn walked away, ready to start over. After a night of drinking, she woke beside the last man she should ever cross-Nolan, her brother's arch-enemy. As she tried to escape, he caught her, murmuring, "You kissed me all night. Leaving isn't an option." The world saw Nolan as cold and distant, but with Brynn, he indulged her every desire. He even bought her a whole village and held her close, his voice low, deep, and endlessly tempting, his robe falling open to reveal his toned abs. "Want to feel it?"
I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me. Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years. The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought. I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction. With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun.
Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.
Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.
I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."
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