A Valiant Life Novels & Stories

Sandra's pov. I picked up my phone to continue recording my trip on a live post I made on I*******m. I and my boyfriend, Xanvier decided to have a fresh start in the city of Milan, a place far away from Mexico- Our country. Xanvier had just gotten a new job at TK designer associate while I was offered a partnership deal with a fashion line as a model. "Hello, my beloved fans". I waved and smiled at the camera as I spun it around, making sure I capture the tall trees hanging over our car, the old, rusty mail boxes on the road side, and the dirt, and gravel road ahead.

“Life finally kicking your ass like it kicked mine?” I stared at him, my hands clenched under the table. “I didn’t come here to exchange small talk with you.” He let out a dry laugh. “Still the same sensitive little girl. Just like your mother. Always so weak. Always crying about every damn thing like fucking chickens.” The words hit me like a slap. Mr. Hale tried to intervene. “Sir, please. We have documents to review,” “Documents?” my father cut in with a sneer. “She doesn’t deserve shit. Look at her. Probably knocked up by some nobody, living hand to mouth. You think I’m gonna hand over my land and money to that?”

I tried to answer, but my eyes only managed a small movement before succumbing to the darkness and I fell unconscious. Miss Valenta was the wonderful lady who had taken me in as a child, providing refuge and care at the "Little Folks" orphanage. During my stay there, her kind guidance had been a beacon of hope, and she was known for rescuing homeless children and giving them a chance at a better life. Her devotion and kindness won her the titles of savior and angel among those she touched. She was born into an affluent family, but she chose to forego her fortune when she refused to become millionaire Gabriel Brown's fourth wife, taking a brave stand for her ideals.

Marcus had obtained these details through illicit means, but they confirmed one thing: Maximus was capable of anything if it meant protecting the company. That revelation turned Valerie’s world gray. She couldn’t comprehend how Maximus could allow his brother’s killer to go free just to preserve the reputation of a company. It was then that Valerie made her decision: they would move to Valentia. But only if their family’s safety could be guaranteed. Securing that protection took two years—two long years of meticulous planning to ensure no unnecessary risks would be taken.

Anthony cut in, "You may be a doctor, but you're willing to go to great lengths just to save lives without any complaints. Obviously, you have a heart of gold. "You only have your mother to rely on since you were a kid, and you're very obedient toward her. Not only that, but you also love and care for her. That makes you a good son. "Back in Crystalis, when Serena got humiliated by others, you stood up for her and defended her honor. I can tell that you're a man of sentiment, too. "And today, you're willing to risk losing an arm just to save Lord Drakeford's life. From the way I see it, you're loyal to your brothers-in-arms to a fault.

"You're... alive." "Alive, Alistair?" Valerie’s voice echoed through the high-arched chamber, rich, smooth, and laced with absolute, terrifying power. She took three slow, deliberate steps forward, her dark heels clicking sharply against the polished stone floor. "I have never been more alive. But your dynasty? Your council? They are already dead." Julian Vance staggered back, his voice trembling violently. "This is a sacred council chamber! You cannot execute syndicate leaders here…"

he added. The Valour was a very popular and powerful name; it could never be erased no matter how hard anyone tried. Not even the child’s play Meridian was trying to pull on us could taint it. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to walk all over it because of a woman... If it was meant to be... “I’m on my way.” Then it would, and I would see her again; if not, then till never. But deep down, I wished and I wondered that someday, We would cross paths...

“Richard will take you.” I nodded, but I couldn’t speak. Home. If that word still meant anything. I just needed to get out. Somewhere far from his shadow. Somewhere I could scream, cry, breathe. DAMIAN Valentina’s mouth moved over me like a woman chasing survival desperate, graceful, calculated. She used her tongue like a weapon and her lips like silk, eyes glancing up through thick lashes, waiting for approval she already assumed she owned. She was good. Of course she was.

The same night she bled through her bandages and still stood for a final round, Victor finally looked her in the eye. "This is what makes a Valente," he said. "Pain?" she asked. "No," he answered. "Endurance. Legacy is not a choice. Legacy is a test of what you’re willing to outlast." “Legacy is not about blood,” her father once told her. “It’s about utility.” She never forgot those words. But sometimes, years later, she would stand at windows—ones with no blood behind them, only sky—and remember that night behind the glass. And wonder if survival, stripped of softness, was still worth the name it protected.

His lamentations were enough for her to hear. After all the bitter winters and healing autumns that life has brought to them, their sufferings have not ever sprouted. So the day has come for her. The most doleful day that she is only alive, being hugged and kissed, in the most cherished memories of the people who remembers her. But in reality, she is no longer… Shanta has already been erased from the world and from the minds of these people who once became a part of her life. Because three years ago, she was declared dead. And now, she wanders like a restless soul.