Does Violet Leave Chicago Fire Mga Nobela at Kwento

I can't feel her the way I should. Then why the fuck does every cell in my body scream that she's in danger? "No." I shake my head, vision blurring. "You're lying. Something's wrong. I feel it." Ares howls, the sound echoing through my skull. My claws pierce through my fingertips, shredding the hospital gown. "Adrian!" Mom's voice cracks. "Violet is safe. She's with the patrol team. They're searching for the remaining Shadow wolves, but she's fine!"

She was, however, fond of her hazel eyes, she thought most of the time it was her only saving grace in the looks department. She rolled her eyes at the beer pong partners and made her way through the house, Suzie at her side loudly greeting everyone she'd ever talked to it seemed. Violet made her presence known on the low key with basic hand waves and subtle heads nods here and there to the few people she cared to greet as she searched out the alcohol. The first keg was in the corner of the living room to the left of the entryway. She quickly chugged a red solo cup of beer, light beer she was sure of it, and immediately went for another cup, she would need her liqiud courage if she had an

She gave me a tense smile and thanked me for letting her know. “No need for thanks. Niccolò and I will be there when you come in. I’ll buzz you with the coffee order but just come in when you’re ready. No matter what happens, Violet, my brother and I will be with you every step of the way. You’re not alone,” I told her. She took a deep breath and sat up straighter, clearly getting her head in the game. Violet seemed to be someone who could compartmentalize very well whenever the need arose. It was an incredibly useful ability but could be dangerous if misused.

“Dad, Mom, I miss you. Where are you? I can’t do all of this by my self. They left. I don’t have anything and anyone again. Please… Mom… Dad… Take me with you.” She was alone. Completely and utterly alone. Between the pain and the sirens, she can see a flash of happy life that she once has. It feels like just yesterday she smiled and happy about her life. But now? She don’t even know either if she will be able to live after this. She look down to her belly, slowly closing her eyes. And in that moment, as the sirens wailed and the ambulance sped into the night, Violet realized just how far she had fallen. How much she had lost.

But within her, a fire burned—a desire to prove herself, to defy the constraints that had shaped her existence. In the heart of the grove, a spectral figure materialized, an embodiment of her notorious lone wolf father. His eyes, once filled with a mixture of regret and longing, now mirrored the tumultuous emotions within Violet's own heart. His voice, laden with echoes of their fractured relationship, carried a whispered plea for understanding.

The brass speaker was cold under her palm. Vanessa Harlow had said that the night they left the blue apartment. Violet had been eleven. There had been rain. There had been two police cars across the street. Her mother had smoked three cigarettes without finishing one. Vi, baby, pack your bag. Don’t ask questions. Just pack. Theodore said her name again. She barely heard him. The speaker hissed. Then Vanessa’s voice whispered: “They found us.” Violet jerked back like the wall had burned her.

Violet didn’t bat an eyelid as they beat James to a pulp. “Stop”, violet said and went to remove the tape from his mouth. “Are you ready to talk?” Violet asked “I..I’ve to..told you all I know,” James said, gasping for air. Violet smiled and pulled out a plier. “Wait,” I said I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Do we need to go this far— “If you can’t stand it, go home,” Violet said angrily “I’m not saying— “You need to stop interfering and allow me to do my job. Do you not realise that we are dealing with a criminal?” Violet said.

“It will strengthen it. She will not be paraded. She will not be silenced. And she will not be treated as currency.” Erico nodded once. “And you,” Vincenzo said, turning back to me, “will not mistake protection for permission.” “I won’t.” “If you marry into my family,” he said, voice low, “you will stand when we stand.” “I already do.” Silence. Then Violet rose and crossed the room. She stopped in front of me and took my hands in hers — warm, steady. “You’re choosing fire,” she said softly. “I know.” She smiled. “Good,” she said. “Ice never suited you.”

Instead, I bit the bullet and invited her over. It was worth it to see the smile overtake Violet’s face, even if the green-haired werewolf chewed me out for not letting her know what happened earlier. While Cole and Marcel took care of Carmen’s body, I planted myself on the sofa at my mate’s side, reveling in the amusement that came with watching her squeal and chat with her friend. Violet told her everything that happened, including Lorenzo—or Noah, I wasn’t sure what to fucking call him—surviving the fire. Olive wasn’t at all happy to hear that bit, but her mood quickly turned around when Violet told her how she shifted for the first time.

I retreated to my assigned rooms within the wing, closing the door firmly behind me. Once alone, I vented my frustration. "Does everyone have to stifle their joy because of *her*?" I paced the room, my hands clenched into fists. "Mother's awake but won't see me. Father didn't smile when I returned. Is he angry at me? Why does that bitch matter so much?" I threw a pillow across the room in frustration. Yet I dared not voice my complaints aloud—for my most loyal confidante, Violet Reed, had perished in the fire I had staged for my own false death.