Codename Anastasia Novel Read Online Novels & Stories

Well, if she wasn’t such a conniving bitch, maybe she too would have what Denali and Rosco had, but villainous women like us didn’t deserve that sort of thing. “You claimed you had information I needed.” I continue, remaining calm. “But I am curious; how do you know what is happening behind the closed doors of Emerald Moon?” As I speak, I can see worry flash in Anastasia’s eyes, but as quickly as it is there, it disappears, and her fake, nice mask is back. Man, this girl truly was easy to read. “I have my ways.” She shrugs just as the men return. “Sorry,” one says, passing me my drink. “The bar tender was telling me a funny story, so it took longer than expected.”

I need to get to that potion bottle; then my beloved can do what her heart desires with this stupid mut. Then as suspected, for I know that my beloved would not have listened even if I ordered her to do so, Anastasia turns into her true form. Now to say that Catarina is not scared beyond death, then that would be a blatant lie. I have just seen a werewolf turn a shade so pale that should she stand against the wall, she shall become one with it. But thank the pope, she has not dropped that bottle yet, though I do fear if Anastasia does continue to approach her in such a way that she might do so unwillingly by the tremors that are taken control of her hands.

Anastasia's POV "Is she bluffing??! There is no information about rejected mates in the books I've seen. And what does she mean already rejected two? Mates are said to be extremely hard to come by!" I frustratingly pull my hair as I pace back in forth in my room. "But Rozen said that mates are a bond of forever right? So how can it be rejected? No... do I actually trust the words of that fake b*tch?" I continued to anxiously pace around the room. I don't even know nor do I understand why I am currently reacting like this. This whole overreaction isn't like me! No, actually all of these emotions whirling and causing havoc inside me are not like me at all!

In the Bratva world, watching your back was an unspoken rule. Anastasia waited for me in her office, and as I entered, she approached, greeting me with a kiss on the back of my hand. Anastasia Volkov, Mikhail's daughter, was an intriguing blend of grace and intensity. Her eyes held a certain depth, a silent storm that mirrored the tumultuous world she hailed from. Long, flowing locks framed a face that carried the weight of her lineage, a mixture of beauty and the unmistakable mark of the Volkov legacy. Her presence was both enigmatic and commanding, a testament to the resilience cultivated in the shadows of powerful bloodlines.

the servant offered again, looking more worried now. Anastasia shook her head. "No, thank you. I can manage on my own." She stood up slowly, trying to gather the last of her courage, which had almost vanished. With shaky steps she walked out of the hotel corridor and her cell phone rang. Anastasia answered it immediately without looking at who was calling her. "Ana, where are you?" ***

MUST READ* As of this stage in the book, Anastasiya has fully accepted her role and her new life as Valencia. Anastasiya Van Houten is dead, and as that, I will no longer be writing in her point of view. She will now be addressed as Valencia as I continue with this book. Forever. I hope this clears the air, and you won't be confused when you read the next chapter, and it's in Valencia Nightingale's point of view. I love you all, and thank you for reading my book. Don't forget to give me a review and tell me your honest thoughts.

GIOVANNI'S POV The heavy oak door to Anastasia’s room was ajar, but I didn’t bother knocking. I just pushed it open, the scent of her jasmine perfume hitting me like a soft, expensive wall. She was lounging on a chaise by the window, a thick, leather-bound book in her hands. She didn’t look up, just turned a page with a deliberate slowness that was pure, calculated provocation. “We need to talk,” I said, my voice sounding rougher than I intended in her delicate, feminine space.

DOMINIC Twenty minutes into the flight. I rubbed my hand against the back of my neck. I glanced at Anastasia. She leaned against her seat, eyes closed shut. Her cheek rested against the armrest, squished on the hard leather, lips parted slightly. Her coat was buttoned to the very last one, like she was afraid her clothes would slip again. They did have a habit of falling off her. My eyes dropped to her chest. I could still picture them from earlier. I’d always had a photographic memory, but that worked against me in cases like this.

And it's all thanks to you all, my lovely readers. Anastasia is now completed and I can finally put my pen down with gratitude in my heart. It's obviously been an intense journey to pick up this book and continue on until the end. I did my utmost best to shape up the story into a beautiful one with the themes of mystery and steamy romance fully embedded.

As they strolled through the garden, the evening air carried the faint scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustling of leaves. Damien glanced at Anastasia, his fingers brushing against hers lightly before he asked, “How are you feeling, Anna?” Anastasia let out a slow sigh before a small, thoughtful smile curved her lips. “You know, when I first returned to New York, I was consumed by my desire for revenge. I wanted to burn everything to the ground. I wanted to kill Claire. And I still do.” She paused, inhaling deeply. “But not at the cost of myself. Somewhere along the way, I realized just how beautiful my life is. I found my courage, Damien. I finally found the strength to come to you a