Romans & histoires Books Like My Dark Vanessa

Good day and welcome to another story written by myself, Vanessa Nicole. The following story will have a feel of the Victorian Era as well as many other eras. There will be many triggers in this story too so I shall warn you here. I specifically love tragedy more than romance so expect some dark stuff! AND MY FANTASIES WILL BE IN THIS BOOK! Under no circumstances should you read the following story and you are younger than 18. *** I also just want to quickly take this time to say thank you to Eva Harlowe who gave me a lecture on the mannerisms and 'wordings' I never knew existed and the idea that will be added to this book some time later.

Someone who owed her a favor. She thought for a while, and then suddenly, her lips curved into a smirk. Of course. An old friend. Someone she hadn’t spoken to in months but who still carried the same bitterness toward the Blackwoods that she did. Vanessa stood up and walked to her desk, pulling open a drawer. Inside was a small black book, the kind she used to keep numbers and names she didn’t want saved on her phone. She flipped through the pages slowly, her long manicured nails brushing over each name until she found it.

Her hands shook, and she clenched them into fists to steady herself. Maxwell stepped further into the room, his presence looming. He didn't say anything for sometime he simply allowed his gaze settle on the spot where the book had fallen just moments ago. “What a curious place to hunt for mice, Vanessa,” he said finally, his voice low, dangerous. “Especially in my study room, where you of all peope know is off-limits to everyone.” Vanessa’s pulse quickened. Racking her brain for more defenses to prop up the lie.

VANESSA’S POV Freedom didn’t feel like air. It felt like smoke — thick, dark, and dangerous. I have just been lazing around my condo, having bubble baths and champagne, I looked out my window. A black car was waiting outside. Sleek. Expensive. Familiar. When the window rolled down and I saw Don Enzo, my heart skipped — not from fear, but from the thrill of the game returning. “Get in, Vanessa,” he said, his voice a velvet blade.

Maya asked. Vanessa smiled, and it was the smile of someone who'd already won. "Then I start making calls. To the sheriff. To your ex. To everyone in this town who thinks you're some kind of survivor story instead of what you really are—a woman with blood on her hands and secrets in her past. How long do you think Ethan will stand by you when he realizes you're just as damaged as I am?" The lighthouse beam swept across them again, and in its light, Maya saw the truth: Vanessa wasn't bluffing. She had the ammunition to destroy everything Maya had rebuilt. And she was desperate enough to use it.

Centuries have passed and that girl, even when it's tough for me to concede, is probably dead. Thus, another girl, a grown-up lady is always appearing. This dilemma has been present for ever since year 2018 started, goddamn it! I paved my way through the Italian bar. The entrance was covered with beautiful and pink flowers with the neon letters La Fleur. You wouldn't expect that inside it was a bar full of monsters doing drugs, sex, and feeding on people. I saw a familiar man coming out of the counter and making his way to me. I grinned at him and nodded, letting my red pupil show – a way to greet your co-vampires. He did the same too.

"Two of three is more than enough for me. I mean, that is a success. Two is a spark. The rest will follow suit when they smell smoke. One that would be out to choke life out of them." She turned away, her eyes dark and cold. "Let my father rot in his pride and Edwin drown in his faith. By the time they both realize what is going on, about my movements , it will be too late to stop the tide." Vanessa's letters were already moving through Dark Moon like silent daggers. Each word a promise. Each seal a betrayal. And the first cracks in Edwin's council had begun to form.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed to hers, his voice was iron. “As far as I have to.” Her heart hammered, terror and desire twisted into one. She knew then there was no turning back. Damien wasn’t bluffing. He would burn the world before he let her go. Vanessa’s Reflection In the master bedroom, Vanessa poured herself a glass of red wine. She stood before the window, looking out at the city. The framed photograph sat on her vanity, its glossy surface catching the light. She traced the frame with one finger, her smile slow, deliberate.

Pedro’s breathing stopped briefly. The confession hit harder than he expected. Vanessa finally turned slightly toward him. For the first time in months, the ice in her eyes cracked just enough to reveal exhaustion beneath it. But it disappeared quickly. Because she belonged to darkness more than peace. She tightened her grip on the chair. Then wheeled away. Pedro remained frozen in the apartment. Listening to the sound of her wheelchair slowly fading down the hallway. Until silence swallowed everything. *** Hours later, Vanessa stood alone inside a black car overlooking the brightly lit city skyline.

The Davis family's club was a playground for the high-stakes crowd, a haven for the allied families' vices. Francis held court at the poker table, a redhead on one arm, Nora on the other. Nora's dress left little to the imagination. Her makeup was flawless, but her eyes darted around, restless. I hung back at the bar, nursing a glass of water. Bernard sidled up next to me. "Holding up okay?" he asked. "Still kicking." Bernard fell silent for a moment before asking, "Did Nora give you the stuff?" "Uh-huh." I gave a noncommittal grunt, not elaborating further.