Anastasia Book Novels & Stories

Her gaze sweeps the tables and then back to the counter, and then shifts to the books, corner. And there it is. Realization. It flickers across Anastasia’s face like a lightbulb sparking to life. Her frown shifts into something else...eyebrows lifting, lips parting, an almost-smirk that she tries to swallow but doesn’t quite manage. “You sly bastard,” She smirks, while I can't help but mirror her expression as I shrug, "You brought me here to meet your girl." ***

A.n hi lovely readers, welcome to my new book, quick warning, I don't like describing things, like clothes, and housing, I find it boring, if you don't like it sorry, If you don't understand something please ask, I'll be happy to answer any questions. On that note please enjoy. My name is Anastasia, I am twenty years old and I have black hair and brown eyes, my mother died, in a car accident when I was thirteen, since then it's been just dad and I.

She also had bare minimum makeup on which let Galina know that she was not planning to go anywhere else. Anastasia seemed a bit off, she looked tired and there was hint of swollenness under her eyes, which meant she was crying. Alexander also wasn’t with her which was quite unusual. Galina waited until she was willing to open up about it herself and after warming herself with a cup of tea, she felt much better and started talking.

It weighs more than my broken pointe shoes because dreams are heavy when they die. How did we get here? I am Anastasia Volkov. Anya to the few who still care. Daughter of Dimitri Volkov, once the king of oil and steel. Before the crash, our name opened every door in Moscow. Papa’s parties filled three floors. Crystal chandeliers, Caviar Mountains, women in diamonds that hurt to look at. I wore silk dresses that cost more than cars, soft against my skin, bright like candy. I smiled for the cameras, teeth perfect, chin high. “The Volkov princess,” they called me in magazines and at parties. I hated the name; it sounded weak, like a doll.

Normal me would have called their head and have them suspended, I didn’t even lose my temper. I turned back to the jeep and even Anastasia was looking at me in surprise. I can’t go back to my soft side… no my weakness once led to betrayal and hurt. I can’t do that again but the shy smile Anastasia gave me as she wore the dress, her eyes sparkled with pride and I knew she was proud of me. After parking we got into the restaurant I noticed Anastasia glaring at the waitress who led us to our reserved seats. I pulled her elbow so she was walking in pace with me. “Why are you trying to scare the woman?” I whispered into her ear.

Chapter Twenty Seven Ashton’s POV After coming back home with Anastasia , a girl I met in Paris who had a way of cheering me up, I decided to put my all into forgetting Marg for good. Haven been introduced to sex she too began to take care of my sexual needs as well all in the bid to trick my body and my mind to forget Marg.

Anastasia looked at him and uttered seriously, "You do not need to give me a special advantage. It will create distance between me and others. I am the model of your company, so treat me as you treat others. I will be happy if you do this" Seeing her serious expression and stubborn nature Alden gave up and uttered, "Okay. The studio is on the tenth floor" "Thank. I will be there soon," Anastasia said and entered the public elevator. "She is stubborn just like her grandfather. I think the stubbornness runs in their blood. A feisty yet beautiful cat" Alden muttered under his breath and got inside his private elevator. Standing inside the elevator, Anastasia took out her phone from her bag and

Roland hadn’t noticed, but she was living in an interrogation room, her move were being watched in each step. “You know my mother isn’t an issue,” he said. “She wasn’t, because she thought I could be more controlled than Sasha,” she thought to herself. “I want to take a shower, do you want to join me?” Roland asked. “Take your time baby,” she said, smiling softly at him. Anastasia waited until she heard the water run in the shower before she discreetly pulled out her second phone, “I will soon be a Conrad,” she typed, sending the quick message. She will burn them before they see the fire coming.

The boy noticed the change in her expression. “That face.” Anastasia blinked. “What face?” “The one people make when they realize they hate being famous.” Her frown deepened. “I’m not famous.” The boy simply looked at her. “Sure.” “I’m not.” “Whatever helps you sleep.” Anastasia’s fingers twitched. For one dangerous second, she considered picking up a stone and throwing it at him. She decided against it… Barely. Then… “I’m Anastasia.” The words slipped out before she could stop herself.

Anastasia has spent twenty-seven years believing she is an ordinary kindergarten teacher, and has learned to be grateful for the little things. After losing her mother years ago, Anastasia has no family left to depend on. One night, Anastasia returns home to find armed men waiting for her. She has no idea who they are or why they want her dead. Then Jaxon Cross walks into her life. President of the Black Vipers MC, Jaxon is the kind of man people cross the street to avoid. Cold, heavily tattooed, brutally protective and feared throughout the criminal underworld. But Jaxon knows something Anastasia doesn’t. Her mother once saved his life. And before she died, she made Jaxon promise to prote