Elena Gallagher Lopez Novels & Stories

Elena said with a defeated sigh. While there was a momentarily silence for few minutes, Elena suddenly received a call from her bodyguard standing outside waiting for her. "Yes?" "Hello Elena" A rather deep voice compared to what she had been expecting spoke. "Who is this?" "You know, I am hurt that you don't recognize me" The voice chuckled. "Please, who are you?" "Hmmm, how do I put it now, oh.. yes! Greetings to the one and only godmother of the Skull gangstar, my name is Carlos Tevez, leader of the most powerful gangstar in all of New York" The moment he mentioned this, Elena froze.

“I just need a minute…” “As you can see, I am busy,” she interrupted, straightening her chair. Her eyes were sharp and wary. Just then, the door burst open, and a blond walked in, accompanied by a little girl. My attention snagged on the child first, assuming that she was the lady's, but as the child turned toward me, my heart stopped. “Mummy!” she yelped and ran toward Elara. She had dark eyes, the same sharp curve of the jaw, a faint dimple in the left cheek. Not even the hair down her back could hide the glaringly undeniable truth.

"But I have people watching Lorenzo's known properties. Eventually he'll surface." "Or he'll stay hidden until he thinks I've given up." "Will you?" I smiled. "What do you think?" "I think you're obsessed. I think you've spent fifteen years planning this and you're not stopping until Jovan is destroyed or dead. Preferably both." "See? You get me." She didn't smile back. Elena was a former Spetsnaz, part of the Russian military intelligence that had killed more people than I could count and felt nothing. But she had this annoying habit of being honest when I didn't want honesty.

“I hope Harper took good care of you.” “Get on with it,” I say, closing the door behind him. He blinks, clearly thrown by my directness. “Of course. About this whole situation—” “What was the female’s name again?” “Elara Lakan,” he says, and I don’t miss the way his voice hardens slightly when he says it. “She was... our most powerful healer. Exceptional abilities.” “Such as?” “Healing magic that surpassed our other practitioners’. She could handle... difficult cases.” His tone carries a reluctant quality, as if the words taste bitter. “Her power was considerable.”

Elena’s hands moved quickly against the keyboard of her laptop. She kept her eyes narrowed to the screen, her focus sharp and unwavering. “Yes. Got it.” She squealed, her tone sharp. The name blinked back at her from the screen like it had been waiting all along. Liam Martin Las Vegas, Nevada. 53 Bridge Road. Boom! She finally got his address. He was alive, and closer than she ever imagined. Elena pushed back from her laptop, her heart thudding like a slow drum against her ribs.

Eliana said. She was sitting on the beige sofa, a makeup artist hovering over her, dusting powder onto her nose. She looked impeccable. She was wearing a midnight blue dress—a nod to the engagement party—that was modest but sharp. Armor. “I’m not pacing,” I lied. “I’m strategizing.” “You’re thinking about how many ways you can legally strangle Elena Costa on live television,” she corrected. “Elena Costa is a vulture,” I muttered. “She made a career out of tearing women down under the guise of ‘journalism.’ If she comes for you, Eliana…”

Leonel was still sitting on the low table in the middle of her couches, very close to her, large and menacing. For a moment, Elizabeth felt very apprehensive, but her boldness was enormous, as well as her jealousy. "Yes, it was I who told him. Your men sure know how to do their job, don't they? You followed me." Leonel didn't change his expression; he didn't expect her to confess so quickly; he was prepared for a battle with that woman. "You can ask me all the questions you want, but you'll have to answer me one. Who is Sofia Sullivan?" She brought her face close to his. "No, let's change that question because I already know who she is. She's Gael's ex, the mother of his child, isn't she? So

The Fontaine Autumn Gala was already overflowing with celebrities, executives, royalty, and international press when Elena arrived beside Raphael. The entire entrance froze. Camera flashes exploded across the red carpet. “Elena! Over here!” “Miss Whitmore!” “Raphael, are the rumors true?” “Elena, who designed your dress?” She almost stopped walking. Not because of the cameras. Because six months ago nobody looked at her this way. Back then she attended events as Damian Lancaster’s quiet wife. Beautiful, yes. But overlooked. Forgettable. Now every gaze in the room followed her. Raphael leaned closer as reporters surged forward.

she says in a quiet voice. “Good, we are getting somewhere. Now where was I – oh yes, I was the toughest and bravest warrior Golden Moon Pack had. And one day I met my beautiful mate, Maria. She was stunning Kate and kind, so kind to everyone. And after a year we had a pup – a little girl named Ella. She was as beautiful as her mother,” I say losing myself for a moment down memory lane. Shaking myself, I realize I can’t afford to get too caught up in the past, I have revenge on my mind.

As soon as he stepped into the penthouse, Ary opened the email fully and began reading: Elena Ava Nolan, born December 25, 1997 to Jon Patrick and Gina Marie Nolan, both of Essex, Massachusetts. Mother, deceased. Personal Details: - Age: 23 - Nationality: American - Marital Status: Married (Bradley “Brad” Hawkins) Residence and Employment: - Last confirmed residence: Shared condo with Bradley Hawkins in Lawrence, MA. - Last known employment: Junior Chef at Scavos Eatery, Essex, MA, from where she resigned, citing “personal reasons”