Anastasia Bat Name Novels & Stories

Camelia Alvarado's normal tone with some other underlying emotion grabbed her attention and Ana snapped her head in her direction. Her next words rendered her speechless as her breath was sucked out of her lungs. “ Or should I call you Anastasia Adams? ” She was exceptionally happy today... So, she was bound to feel exceptionally miserable too.

As she opened the door, she said, "What is it, Zach? I've to—" She paused, realizing the person in front of her was not Zach. It wasn't even a man; it was a young, beautiful girl with a smooth face and fine lips. "Hi," the girl in front of her said. "My name is Anastasia, but you can call me Anna. I was sent by Mr. Zach to assist you with anything you might need." A smile flashed on my face as I said, "Come in."

He asked, sitting beside me. "No..No..I was not crying but something was in my eye.." I lied, He rolled his eyes “Lying to me or yourself sweets..I saw Jayson bullying you” He said and my face well. “You already know then why did you came here..to make fun of me” I asked, "To know your name sweets" he asked me "My name is not sweets, don't call me that ever again. My name is Anastasia" I answered him back with a frown.

I don't even know what accent she was attempting; all I know is she sounded ridiculous. "What on earth is that accent you're putting on, Ana?" I snapped. She whipped around to look at me "Do not call me that! My name is not Ana, and it's not Anastasia! My name," she continued calmly coming towards me, "is Anastausia. Say it with me, sister, repeat after me," she sat on my bed and said very slowly "Ana-" then looked at me and motioned with her hands for me to repeat. Feeling too tired to fight, I amused her, "Ana-" I responded with some sarcasm. She looked at me sternly and finished "stausia. Ana-Stausia is how it's pronounced. extra emphasis on the U," she informed me. Stunned, the only resp

she said, pushing her hand out the window. I eyed Colton knowingly. “Asia, huh?” I asked him in particular. “My name is not actually Asia. It’s Anastasia. I gave myself that nickname when Colton told me about you. And since it’s b part of the name, why not right?” she elaborated with a laugh as if that wasn’t weird at all. “Well, nice to meet you, Anastasia. I guess I’ll just. . .” I trailed off as I awkwardly sat in the backseat of Colton’s jeep. It felt utterly weird and awkward.

After about an hour there was a knock on my door before it opened, a girl walked in, she had the same staff member's clothes, the difference between their uniform and ours, theirs is fully black with no extra tie. "Hello little one, I'm one of the dominants responsible for this floor. The name is Anastasia but you can call me Anna, you mind if we have a chat?" She says with my head still buried in the pillow refusing to talk. She walks in toward me, her hand goes against my hair as she pets my head in a calming motion.

Then she mutters under her breath, “Maybe I should add you to the list.” “Are you calling me names, Anastasia ?”

Maybe, a little more than just jealous, but I would know how to handle the situation later, it wouldn’t be possible over text anyway. I walked out of the room to find the woman who I’ve been waiting for, Anastasia was her real name. However, I learned that she was called Rose as a slave. He had kidnapped her the way he kidnapped Kiara, but the difference was, Kiara’s kidnapper and her father had arranged the whole thing, Anastasia’s family was still looking for her. “So, where were we?” I asked Anastasia.

She must have said something extremely stupid to her, just to make an impression, so i dragged her by the hair, to where the lady stood, she also had a phone on her hands, while she captured every moment, the moment i go before her, i tossed ana back to the floor. “ i know she had told you enough lies but let me help you out because we are all victims of her lies, her name is Annastacia green, she's a miserable lady, a prostitute, who goes around, sleeping with men, she doesn't have any nice intention for anyone, and being in a place like this, she should be casted away”

It was genuine. “You must be Vittoria,” she said, already moving toward me. “I’m Anastasia.” She stopped short, eyes roaming my face, my posture, the sling on my arm. Her gaze was frank, unfiltered, professional. “Nikolai’s sister,” she added, as if that alone explained her presence and her energy. So this was her. She dressed in black, but not in the controlled severity Nikolai favored. Hers was layered, intentional chaos; textures clashing and somehow working, sharp lines softened by movement. A measuring tape hung around her neck like jewelry. Her fingers were faintly stained with chalk and ink.