Elena Avalor Songs Novels & Stories

When the red light blinked, I looked straight into the lens. “My name is Eliana Vaughan. Two years ago, I agreed to a marriage that saved my family’s legacy but cost me my freedom. My sister Eliora agreed to the switch because she didn’t want the responsibility but when she realized what she’d given up, she came back. Not to make peace, but to take everything.” I paused, heartbeat drumming at my ribs. “She forged documents. Manipulated paternity tests. Tried to claim a child that isn’t hers. She worked with Rafael Vaughan to steal my husband’s inheritance and when that failed, she used our children as weapons.”

Chapter 17 "What are you talking about?" Nora whispered, her voice shaking so badly she barely got the words out. Valencia laughed. It was a cold, high-pitched sound that bounced off the damp stone walls of the cellar. She walked slowly around the small altar, trailing her manicured fingers over the emerald green silk of the dress. "You really are clueless, aren't you?" Valencia mocked, stopping in front of the largest oil painting. "Her name was Elara. They were childhood sweethearts. Deluca was completely obsessed with her."

A slow song is on, drawing Elena close and I lead her in a slow dance. Her hands cross behind my neck and we just flow with the music. “What was that all about earlier?” “I think I deserve an explanation don’t!” Elena says breaking the silence between us. Taking a deep breath, I try to find the words to explain the situation. I didn’t realize when I walked up to the retreating figure of Ava and her date and then proceeded to snatch her out of his grasp. By the time I realized what was going on, Ava was already in my arms and both Elvis and Elena were looking at me like I had gone mad.

“Voy a vivir el momento, Para entender el destino. Voy a escuchar en silencio, Para encontrar el camino. Y para qué llorar, pa' qué, Si duele una pena, se olvida, Y para qué sufrir, pa' qué, Si duele una pena, se olvida, la la la.” “Voy a reír, voy a bailar, Vivir mi vida, la la la la,” Ava in her fun sang along but again, she wasn’t getting all the words right that Lucian chuckled. “Hey,” she called with a pout, “if you are better, you sing along.”

I asked, keeping my voice steady. She tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips. "Just wanted to see how Luciano's little pet was doing." Ava tensed beside me. Kira looked confused but alert. I forced a breath. "I don't have time for this." I turned to walk away, but she wasn't done. "Tell me, Camila," Elena called out, her voice mocking, "how does it feel to be nothing more than a contract woman? To be just another one of his temporary flings?"

"I had to." "Why?" Elena stood. "Because the First One was looking for Ava." "Why?" "Because Ava was the only one who could give it a body." Aria's voice became quiet. "Then why did you keep me?" Elena looked at her. "Because you were the opposite." "The opposite of what?" "Ava was created to open." "You were created to close." Aria froze. "What?" "You and Ava were born together." Elena's voice trembled. "But you were given different fragments."

“Can I ask you a question? You hate me, Elena. So why team up with me to go against Arthur, the man you claim to love?” Elena crossed her arms, her expression cold. “Because Arthur will always be king. That will never change and you never becoming king would never change, But Ava…” She paused, her voice lowering. “Ava is a problem that needs to be dealt with and I need your help to get rid of her for good.” Oliver smirked faintly. “And what do I get out of this?” “I can keep you safe,” Elena said. “Without my help, Arthur will find you, and we both know how that ends. But if you work with me, you will survive. Betray me, and you will regret it. You know I’ll see it coming.”

Not a ghost. Not a phantom. Not a hallucination. The man from the memory. The man who had carried her through the fire. The man who had died—or who she thought had died. He stepped closer, voice breaking. “Elena… it’s me.” Elena felt her world tilt. Her pulse fractured into panic. “Who… who are you?” The man swallowed hard. “My name is Lucian Vale.” Her blood ran ice-cold. Vale. The same name on the document.

Ava’s heart began to throb as the lawyer continued, “All thirty-five percent of the company’s shares have been transferred to you. Miss Valentina has received thirty million in cash from Mr. Morales’s personal account.” The words hit her like a gust of wind—swift, cutting, and sudden. She didn’t respond. Her throat tightened, her chest clenched, and she simply stared at the lawyer, eyes misting over. The man stood to leave but paused at the door, glancing back with a touch of empathy. “Miss Morales,” he said quietly, “he cried a lot last night.” Ava looked up. “He’s fifty-three,” the lawyer went on, “and after everything… his hair is almost entirely white now. He can barely speak without cou

She looked around thirty, elegant and confident. Victor stood up with a rare smile. “Elena. I did not know you were coming.” Elena Langford. Victor’s daughter and Damien’s half-sister. Her eyes landed on me immediately. “So this is the new wife. Ava, right? You are younger than I expected.” “Nice to meet you,” I said politely. Elena smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. She studied me like I was a problem to solve. Later that afternoon, she found me alone in the library.