Elena Coats Novels & Stories

She finally sighed and picked up the call, after it rang for several minutes. "Hello, Maya." "You're really doing this? Like, right now?" Maya blurted as soon as she heard her voice. Elena stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked pale, sharp cheekbones, dark hair pulled into a sleek knot, lips painted deep crimson to hide how dry her mouth felt. "I have to." She replied after a while of silence. "This isn't some dive bar sting operation, El. These people are ghosts. Billionaires who make people disappear for fun. If they figure out you're a journalist...

She asked, sounding puzzled. “You will know when you come,” I snapped and hung up. I dipped the cigarette butt into the ashtray and lit up another cigarette. About 30 minutes later, I heard the door knob turn, and Elena entered wearing a knee length coat and locking the door behind her. She swayed her hips, stalking towards me and unbuttoning her coat. ‘I am not in the mood for this,’ I thought. “Stop whatever you're thinking of doing and pay attention to what I'm about to say,” I said that and saw her pause in her actions.

she curiously glinted at Ashley and she got a quick nod, hooray calm clasping hand from Ashley. “Are you sure going to date that library man?” Again, Ashley nodded. “He’s nice guy. How about you? Are you going to another date with Martinez, your charming crush around the planet, on the eastern hemisphere of this continent?” Elena cleared her throat. “A crush heist.” She chuckled and let Ashley looking at her with puzzled stare. ‘Gosh. Is he a kind of that man? Like Johnny Sly, my boss? Or Emir Drake?’ Elena inhaled and some curious questions attacking her mind like a string of bullets.

Her mind was filled with only one name. “Ricky Zayden Mascherano. Oh God, Olivia, you must realize. Uncle CEO is already twenty-five, and you? You’re still a child! You’re not worthy of him!” Olivia scolded herself in her heart. At eleven o’clock, While Olivia was still trying to calm her heart, a different scene took place at Elena’s design office. She was the legendary designer known as Queen Elisabeth. Elena was sitting at her desk, reviewing gown sketches for a long-time client. Beside her, Thalia — her loyal assistant — entered carrying a thick folder. Thalia’s face was beaming, as if bringing big news.

He had faced boardroom betrayals, market crashes, even corporate sabotage—but nothing felt as heavy as what he was about to do tonight. Elena stepped out of the elevator quietly. She wore a black coat, her hair tied back in a neat twist. There was something steely in her posture now, something that hadn’t been there when they first met. She no longer looked like the girl forced into a contract. She looked like the woman who could end one on her own terms. He didn’t turn when he heard her footsteps. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said. “You asked me to,” she replied, her voice steady. “And I’m tired of watching from the sidelines.”

I don’t love baring my arms, though, so I’ll need to find a jacket to go over it. “Looks great,” she says, barely glancing up. She’s feeding William off-camera, her focus divided. I’ve only seen my nephew in photos. Elena says if I want to meet him, I need to get on a plane. Simple as that. But it’s not simple. It never is. “You’re not even looking,” I say, exasperated, holding the dress higher. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Elena replies, voice syrupy sweet. “I just have to feed the little apple of my eye. Aren’t you, baby? Aren’t you mama’s little Blondie?”

she said. “And suddenly everyone of you are pretending to bethe boss.” One of the older captains leaned forward. “And you think you can control us?” Elena met his eyes. “I don’t think.” “I know.” He scoffed. “You’re a flower seller.” The room got very quiet. Elena didn’t react. She simply walked closer to the table. Then she pulled a gun from her coat and placed it on the table. The sound echoed in the room. “If anyone here thinks Adrian Volkov is gone,” she said calmly,

"I keep waiting to find the real Millicent underneath all these costumes, but what if there's nothing there? What if I've been playing parts for so long that I forgot who I actually am?" Elena is quiet for a long moment, her weathered face thoughtful. "I've worked for Mr. Hale for twenty years," she says finally. "Watched him build this empire from nothing. Watched him become the man the world sees, cold, controlled, untouchable." "That sounds like him." "It's who he became. It's not who he is." She turns to look at me, her dark eyes sharp despite her age.

Mary’s Hospital. Then at the unknown man beside her. “I’ve seen this coat before.” Ethan looked at her. “Where?” She thought for a moment. “On the security footage from the train station.” Vanessa immediately opened her laptop. She pulled up the still image of Elena entering the station. They compared the two images side by side. The man wasn’t visible in the station footage. But the coat… The same dark wool coat. The same leather satchel slung across one shoulder.

The Thames was a mirror of cold steel as Alessandro climbed onto the wet cobblestones of the Royal Docks. He was drenched, his tactical gear slick with sewer grime, but his eyes were locked on the woman leaning against the black SUV. **Elena** looked impeccable, her sharp trench coat a stark contrast to the chaos Alessandro had just crawled out of. "You really did it," she said, her voice barely a whisper against the wind. "You didn't just burn the house down, Alessandro. You nuked the neighborhood."