Fifty Shades Darker Anastasia Novels & Stories

"Thank you, Karla." Natalie and Luciano hovered supportively, diffusing with easy charm. "Eliot, Karla—join us at the VIP table." Natalie suggested brightly, steering them inside. A sleek black Rolls-Royce purred to a stop, its door opening to reveal Anastasia. She stepped out like a storm in human form, her emerald gown—deceptively similar to Natalie's—clinging scandalously low, slit high on one thigh to reveal a toned leg. Blonde waves cascaded artfully, red lips curved in a predatory smile, but her eyes blazed with hidden fury. She scanned the carpet, locking on Howard and Charlotte, jealousy twisting her features into a fleeting snarl before she schooled it into sultry poise.

All she wanted to do was strangle Camilla, for taking Damon's attention away from her. "Just let me be Anastasia" Damon said and rushed upstairs. Anastasia was very cross, she has been embarrassed so many times because of Camilla and now, she's losing Damon for good. She allowed her anger to get the better of her, and decided to do something drastic. "Hello, Ajay" "Yes Ana!" "Find Camilla, find her now and tell me where she is" "Yes ma'am. I'll get back to you in a few minutes" Anastasia grinned and left to her room. Ajay has been her puppet for a long time, he would do anything to please her because of how much he loved her. Anastasia had no atom of feelings for him but uses him to get her

Smiling faintly, I reached out to take it. My hand had barely touched it when someone snatched it right out of my grasp. “I’ll take this,” a familiar voice said smoothly, filled with venom. I turned slightly, and there she was—Anastasia. She stood before me in a tight red dress and high heels, her lips curling into a mocking smile as she observed the shirt. “Mom, this will look good on James, right?” Anastasia said sweetly, turning to the elderly woman beside her. She didn’t even care that she’d just snatched it from my hand.

Dylan asked Lucas and Lucas shook his head. Dylan was brimming with anger, Lucas pressed the bell button and a few seconds later, Marcus opened the door. “Where's Anastasia?” Dylan asked Marcus. “She's in the room.” Marcus told him, and Dylan headed straight for the room where he could hear Kate shouting; he stepped in, and his eyes landed on his wife; at first look, he saw that she was fine, which made him relieved. “Are you ok Anastasia?” Dylan asked as he walked over to her side and she nodded her head. The closer he got to her he could see that her hands were trembling, but she did her best and put on a brave face.

' Richard shook his head, shifting his sight to the curtain-down window. "Your hands seem rough, giving me no reason to doubt your statements," Anastasia murmured as she leaned back in the chair and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. She continued again with lost eyes as if she was contemplating a matter deeply, "I once caused someone to bleed horribly—I smashed his head, but fortunately he survived,” at the end of her words her eyes became gloomy. Anastasia talked about Jerry. She still had vivid memories of the night. “Is the intended impression being sent to me that you cannot be intimidated?” With wide amused eyes, Richard questioned with curiosity, thinking that she had undoubte

His veins popped as he spoke, and his eyes darkened, indicating his anger. “Oh, Jacob. No one would have believed me a year ago. Who would believe a poor and powerless girl? No one would.” Anna replied, and her eyes suddenly lit up. “But, I am no longer that poor and powerless girl, Jacob. I am now Anastasia Reyes, wife to the richest man in Australia. Who wouldn’t believe me now?” She laughed at the terrified look on Jacob’s face when he realized she was right. “Does this mean that Tristian knows?” He asked, and Anna shook her head.

“Ahhhh, fuck!..“ I stopped mid-step, then began looking around. The door beside me, slightly ajar, flickered with candlelight and shadows. Then another moan followed—sharper this time, feminine and demanding. “Gimme!, yess!..“ I knew that voice—Alana. I leaned closer, just enough to peek through the gap between the door and the frame. The room was dim, styled like some ancient Venetian confession booth with gold walls and a mirror angled toward the ceiling. And there they were—Lucas Motilfaco and Alana, tangled together on the edge of a chaise lounge. Her robe had fallen open completely, silk wrapped around her elbows like loose chains. She straddled him, hands tangled in his hair, hips grin

DOMINIC Twenty minutes into the flight. I rubbed my hand against the back of my neck. I glanced at Anastasia. She leaned against her seat, eyes closed shut. Her cheek rested against the armrest, squished on the hard leather, lips parted slightly. Her coat was buttoned to the very last one, like she was afraid her clothes would slip again. They did have a habit of falling off her. My eyes dropped to her chest. I could still picture them from earlier. I’d always had a photographic memory, but that worked against me in cases like this.

They were here because they feared me, and fear was a far more reliable currency than love. My attention drifted toward the grand staircase. That was where Tristan would appear... radiant, untouchable. The thought steadied me, and for a moment I could almost breathe again. “Relax,” came Anastasia’s voice from beside me. She was a vision in emerald silk, her eyes bright with the kind of manic energy that could burn down cities. “You look like you’re about to face a firing squad, not get engaged.” “Sometimes those are the same thing,” I murmured.

Lyndon barked. “Just buy me some time!” I yelled back. “I’ll try to break the barrier!” I pressed my palm to the ground, summoning light energy. It flared weakly, flickering against the pressure around us. It wasn’t enough. Whatever was fueling this darkness was stronger than before. Anastasia was laughing again, blood on her cheek, her eyes glowing white. “Come on, you bastards! I’m not done yet!” Wendell swore under his breath. “She’s going to get herself killed.”