Anastasia Book Novels & Stories

She walked to the curtain and closed it. She went to the bathroom and she felt so weird. She holds on to the sink and starts vomiting. She was still dizzy when she washed her mouth but she exhaled and looked at the mirror. She then held her stomach and thought about her period. "Darling, you okay?" He asked and she looked at him. Both of them looked at each other. *** Anastasia dresses up in black as she puts on red lipstick and a headdress that has a net to cover her face. Ferdinand escorts her to EPUA as two bodyguards tailed them. It will be the first day to torture them.

" Yes, my beloved has grown some more courage in the past half an hour; in fact, this is just a mere man. So before Anastasia gets us all killed, I softly whisper into her ear. "Oh my god! Really Sebastian?" And her laughter makes him so enraged that he stand from where he was sitting, not thinking, which I believe his real brain capacity is, he places the Book on the chair. In an instant, Anastasia sweeps in and grabs it. Now, this girl is quite a clever minx.

Mafia princess Anastasia Rostova is not your conventional Mafia princess. Betrothed to old, senile, sadistic Lev Avilov since she was just five, Anastasia has avoided home for years, running off to England for studies. But with her twentieth birthday approaching quickly, she knows she has no choice. It's either she married Lev, or her father and everyone one else she holds dear...die.

"Uh you go. I'll order something." She scowled but handed her bag and ran off. I rubbed my forehead as I walked to MacDonald's, wondering why Bryan was behaving the way he is. I looked around for a place to sit but my eyes froze on a particular figure. Long black hair, hazel eyes, high cheek bones, pink lips, sleuth figure, dressed in skinny black jeans and cream fashion top. She looked gorgeous. Anastasia. ~~~ Well, who's ready for the drama!!??

Still, I swallow the lump in my throat and ask, “Can’t you reschedule your meeting instead? This is important, Evans…” “Come on, Georgia The pack duties and my business are more import—” He doesn’t even get the chance to finish before a voice cuts through the air—sweet, soft, and utterly grating to my ears. “Alpha Evans! I’m here!” My heart lurches. I spin around, only to see Anastasia practically skipping toward us, a stack of documents clutched tightly in her arms. She looks… flawless. A sleek pencil skirt hugs her hips, and a cropped top shows off just enough to turn heads. Her hair is styled to perfection, not a strand out of place.

"But that's not why I help you. There's something more—something about you..." But she didn't finish her sentence. Anastasia then crept onto my bed. I recoiled instinctively, but she raised her hand to soothe me. Then she leaned forward until our faces were almost touching. I could smell her delicious breath in my nostrils. Her golden irises were too deep as if she had seen too much in her life. I stared back into those mesmerizing eyes. They were framed with long thick lashes that curved upward like the tail of a peacock.

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.

“And has it ever occurred to you that maybe Yomi only sees you as his best friend and nothing more than that?” “Babes, stop this.” Isioma intervened softly, glancing between her friends. “Come on, chill out, both of you. It's not worth it.” “Totally not.” Anastasia hissed in annoyance, standing up from the long iron bench. She then grabbed her crossbody bag from the ground after saying, “I gotta go.” “Huh?” Isioma was clearly surprised at Anastasia's outburst of anger. “Where are you going to?”

"But I am running out of reasons not to say this one." My heart was going hard. The room felt smaller. He was close enough now that I caught that clean dark scent that did something to me every single time, and I stopped pretending it didn't. "Caspian." "Say it." "This is a bad idea." "You keep telling me that." The smallest smile. "And you keep showing up anyway. Two dinners. A storm. Tonight. At some point, Anastasia, a smart woman has to ask herself why she keeps walking towards the thing she says is a bad idea."

“You’re distracted by Anastasia. Be careful, Alexei.” I wanted to argue. I didn’t want Darius interfering with what I felt. I knew I had to stay focused on my goal. But my instincts wouldn’t lie—there was something about Anna that pulled me in. “She feels familiar,” I admitted quietly. “I already told you—when you were head of the Bastorin Academy, Anastasia studied there. Not for long. Then you were framed, and… you know how it ended.” “But this feels different, Darius.” “Different how? There’s nothing between you. She hates you. Her father died because of you and Yuri.”