Anastasia Knight Interracial Novels & Stories

Damon greeted her, the woman, Kristen, hugged Damon, I could see Damon didn't actually want to hug her but I was so jealous, I got up off the swing, and when she let go of Damon I got her attention "Hi, I'm Anastasia, I'm living with Damon, and you are?" I asked knowing Damon had never mentioned her "I'm Kristen, Damon's good friend" she emphasized "Hmmm, he's never mentioned you before, have you Damon?" I looked to Damon for the last part of the question

A woman, rather, with perfect glassy skin that checked every box in the short list Reina had spewed with malice. Blonde. Pretty smile. Able to hold a conversation. Eloquent. As if things couldn't get any worse, she said something that pulled a genuine smile out of him while she laughed softly. She was beautiful without even trying. "That's Anastasia; the party girl," Mikhail informed me. "It's her birthday. She's labeled the jewel of the Bratva because of her beauty, so that explains the crowd. Every man here has an eye for her," he added dryly, swiping a glass of alcohol from a server's tray from himself. "They wished they could marry her. Not only is her father a high-ranking member of the

she was about to say something when Cassie arrived and cut her off. “Dating?” I thought she would say something meaningful, yet she continued Liliane’s suspicion. I sighed while they both grinned at me. “We are not. It just happened that I saw him roaming around the palace. We just talked. Besides, Knight Nathan must have already found his mate,” I told them, but that didn’t stop them from teasing me. “Lady Anastasia, Nathan is my cousin. Believe it or not, he spent every second of his life fulfilling his duties in this palace,” Liliane said. I paused for a moment. Was she telling the truth?

"Unless any of you would like to question my decision?" Silence. The white-blonde woman stepped forward. She possessed a chilling beauty, akin to a blizzard—cold, deadly, impossible to ignore. Her icy eyes met mine, holding them captive. "I am Anastasia Volkov," she announced, her voice as sharp as frost. "Leader of the Siberian pack. And I have no desire to witness a half-blood embarrass herself in the ring." "I didn't ask for your interest," I retorted. Anastasia offered a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You have spirit. I appreciate that. Perhaps when Niklas breaks you, I will collect the pieces and forge something useful."

Anastasia I looked at her, nodding in agreement. Her hair was tightly curled and cascaded gracefully past her shoulders. Her makeup was flawlessly applied, giving her the look of someone preparing for a night out. She wore daring attire—a top that showed off her midriff and tight, high-waisted black jeans. Her physique was incredible, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. “Hey there, how’s it going?” Kayin flashed a smile that seemed to hint at a secret or suggest she wasn’t entirely truthful. Victoria shifted uncomfortably next to me, picking up on something that I seemed to be missing. I felt like an outsider.

“I see you have someone with you.” I met her gaze evenly. “Hi, I’m Anastasia Wilson,” she continued. “Heiress of the Wilson empire and a friend of Jake.” “Nice to meet you,” I replied simply. I could tell she didn’t like me. Well, that was her problem. Anastasia turned back to Jake, her flirty expression returning. Jake, however, didn’t entertain her further. Instead, he pulled me slightly closer to him. “Anastasia, if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend some time with my date,” he said casually.

Her sexy self is here. Anastasia is right here, at L&K, and while it’s not her first time, she doesn’t usually dress like she’s at a business meeting. She's dressed like she came here to fight some demons that she has been battling for a while, and does she look good. And definitely not with these three fuckers—my nephew included. Xavier made it his mission to keep her away from them and their whoring ways. So I’m just taking care of it on his behalf like I promised him.

Her lips thinned with her face neutral and void. “Oh good you're back. Anastasia, this is Nora, my roomate. Nora, this is Anastasia. She's the new roommate I told you about.” Kayla said and Nora stared at Anastasia who also couldn't look away from her punk style hair. She looked like a rock and roll artist but somehow her presence screamed like the person not to be messed with.

she asked. “Of course. I’m Anastasia Barmed Clinton, a friend of Katrina Mercado. But her real surname is Swan—Katrina Dimagiba Swan,” I told her, and she looked at me intently. “S-Swan? So she’s the daughter of Karolina Dimagiba and Alfredo Swan?” she asked. “Yes, Tita,” I answered. “In that case, may I know the reason you came here, Ana?” she asked again, so I began to recount everything—from the beginning to the end. The lady started crying, unable to believe what she had just learned.

Her lips, which were painted the same vibrant red as her dress, curled up at the corners. I hadn’t even realized I was growling. She patted my chest, sending sparks skittering along my torso that I could feel even through the shirt I had on. “Good to see you too, caveman. Let’s go get married, shall we?” Spinning on her heel my mate, the bane of my existence, sauntered onto the plane without once looking back. Knight whistled quietly. “That woman is going to eat you alive.” An hour later Knight and Anastasia were all cozied up next to one another, sipping champagne and laughing like some kind of long-lost friends. Please, they only knew one another through me.