Descendants Valentine Cards Novels & Stories

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

"Her crown was built on a lie. His love will help her burn it all down." At fifteen, Valencia De Von Cruz was the most feared girl in school— a shield of cruelty masking the trauma of her mother's unsolved murder. The only boy who wasn't afraid, Aaron Sinclair, left a rose for her on Valentine's Day. She never came. She vanished, leaving him with a broken heart. Six years later, Aaron is a business kingpin, and Valencia is the ruthless Queen of the underworld. When he’s attacked, she saves his life in a blur of violence, not recognizing the man she once inspired. To find her again, Aaron lies. He walks into her empire and hires her for the one thing she sells: protection. Valencia agrees, hiding her own truth: her crown is a cage. Her grandfather, who blames her for her mother's death, controls her with brutal trials. Aaron sees through her carefree facade. He witnesses her pain and wages a secret war against her grandfather, his love for her rekindled into a fierce, protective flame. As their guarded hearts collide, a shadow from the past emerges. A secret organization, *Phoenix*, is systematically destroying Aaron's empire and has its claws in the underworld’s very foundations. To survive, Valencia and Aaron must unravel a conspiracy that leads to a devastating truth: the mastermind behind her mother's murder has been hiding in plain sight all along. Now, Valencia must remember the tragedy she locked away. To claim her future with Aaron, she must first tear down the legacy built on her mother's blood. Even if it means becoming the monster they all fear. *A story of shattered pasts, fierce love, and brutal revenge, where the most dangerous weapon isn't a gun— it's the truth.*

To help my husband, Henry Carter, pay off a million-dollar debt, I clean windows and scrub toilets in an office building on Valentine's Day just for the triple pay. After I'm done with the windows, I am about to transfer the last 50 thousand dollars of the debt when a post suddenly pops up on my phone. The title of the post is, "What is something you see in real life that makes you feel sorry for someone, even if they are your enemy?" One of the top comments says, "The person I hate the most is my boyfriend's wife. My boyfriend pretends to be poor to spend money on me and cheats his wife out of over a million. That woman works day and night at a cleaning company just to make money for me! "This has gone on for eight years. That woman has been scrubbing toilets for eight years! Even if she is my enemy, I feel sorry for her." I freeze, and my fingers tremble uncontrollably. No way. It has to be a coincidence. I stare at those words, stunned and unable to recover from the shock. Then, a new comment appears, "Now, my boyfriend plans to fake an illness by telling his wife that he has cancer. He's going to trick her into giving him money to buy me a car." At that exact moment, Henry sends me a message. The instant I open it, I feel my heart skip a beat. It reads, "I'm sorry, honey. I'm sick—I have cancer. The doctor says we need to prepare 80 thousand dollars for treatment. I hate myself for this. Why am I even alive? I'm just dragging you down with me." The words "late-stage liver cancer" in the attached diagnosis report are painful to look at. I think in dismay, "Henry, you do not need to pretend to be sick. You are indeed in the late stage of cancer."

On Valentine's Day, I paid in full for a sports car and gave it to my wife as a gift. But when my wife arrived at the private dining restaurant, she brought her parents—and her childhood sweetheart—along with her. The moment my mother-in-law saw it, she slammed her hand on the table, furious. "Tyler, do you have so much money that it's burning a hole in your pocket? Is all this really necessary just for a meal? "Megan pinches every penny at home, and here you are throwing money around outside—just to show off?" Embarrassed, I tried to explain that this was simply a token of my love for Megan. My father-in-law, however, kept a stern face. "No matter how expensive the car is, it's still going to get stuck in traffic during rush hour! It's not even as useful as the electric scooter Brandon gave her. If you ask me, you didn't put any real thought into this. "Oh, right. I heard the salesperson who sold you the car was introduced by Brandon. How exactly are you planning to repay that favor? No matter how busy you are with work, you can't just push everything onto Brandon to handle for you." I could hear the hidden meaning behind his words. So that was what this was really about. They were still holding a grudge because a week ago, when my father-in-law had twisted his back, I hadn't gone to the hospital to visit him. But at the time, I had been busy cleaning up the mess Brandon Hayes had caused for the company. I'd even kept him out of prison. Yet, instead of gratitude, they were turning the blame on me. After a long silence, my wife finally looked at me. "Tyler, transfer ten percent of the company's shares to Brandon as repayment." "And if I don't?" My father-in-law barked angrily, "Then I'll have Megan divorce you!" I laughed. Then I calmly pulled a divorce agreement from my pocket and placed it on the table. "Go ahead," I said. "Sign it."

In order to help my family take over the Vitales' casino that's based in North Melcina, I conceal my identity as the sole daughter of Don Leonardo Ricci and begin working as a dealer in Las Vogis. During my undercover mission, I get close to Mattia Vitale, the heir of the Vitales, on purpose. At the same time, I secretly get my hands on the Vitales' weak points. Not only does Mattia not realize my intentions, but he also showers me with love and affection. He doesn't hesitate to gift me jewelry worth millions of dollars. Sometimes, he surprises me with fireworks worth tens of millions of dollars. In fact, he once burns a contract worth a hundred million dollars just to light my cigarette. As I stand under the sky filled with fireworks in Las Vogis, I hear my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Hence, I reject my dad's decision to devour the Vitale family. I thought I finally found true love. But lately, Mattia hasn't been coming home that much now. He also grows colder toward me. In fact, he even announces to everyone else that I'm just his personal assistant at his family gathering. His excuse for hiding our relationship is that he's worried his family elders might target me. But what he doesn't know is that when he almost lost his net worth at the gambling table, I was the one who secretly swapped the cards, allowing him to make a victorious comeback. I plan on telling Mattia the truth on his birthday, and I've already drafted a business deal between my family and his as a surprise for him. But I end up witnessing Mattia being entangled with another woman from my position outside his office. That woman is Ginevra Bellini, the heiress of the Bellini family, a nouveau riche family that has earned their gold from real estate in North Melcina. The Bellinis are as wealthy and powerful as the Vitales, so to the Vitales, Ginevra is the most perfect and suitable marriage partner to Mattia. So, it turns out that Mattia has already labelled his love accordingly. I'm just the bargaining chip that he has chosen to discard after weighing the pros and cons. With a sneer on my face, I toss the contract into the shredder. Then, I call my dad's number. "Do it, Dad. Let's devour the Vitales."

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.