Idv Violetta Novels & Stories

Ziv skips the topic, "Come on, let's grab something to eat." Emily tugs on my sleeve, "Who is this?" "Oh, this is my mate, Ziv." I introduce. "What?! How can he be your mate!" Lola screams. "What are you suspecting? Miss? I heard your conversation just now, and I'm sorry to tell you that Violet doesn't need to work for two years to buy a car because this car ..." Ziv says, word for word, amidst Lola's gradually embarrassed face, "...belongs to Violet." Ziv purses his lips. His sexy lips are spitting out mean words now, "Also, I'm not interested in you at all. Nor am I interested in knowing your name."

I asked. She smiled at me. “Your little friend.” “Oh!” That was awkward, wasn’t her daughter’s name Lydia? “Queen Shalom-” “If it’s okay with you, please just call me Shalom.” “Right. Uhm… if you don’t mind me asking, did you ever find that imposter?” She dragged her breath and exhaled loudly. “That… that was not an imposter.” “But you said-” “Not in that way. That was one of the new gods, her name is Violet, and she has the power to change faces and become whoever she wants. She is the goddess of illusions.”

She says. “Okay...” I say, cautiously. I wonder why she doesn’t want me to pick her up.... “Okay. I have to go. And wear something violet if you want to match with my dress. I’m in a mood to wear violet. Bye!” Aviana says hurriedly before she ends the call. I chuckle at her antics before getting back to work.

His hand curiously pulls down my pyjama pants, spotting my matching panties. "I bought it online, I'd thought you'd like it." I reply, laughing along with him as he pries of my bra and panties, both covered in yellow ducks. "You're crazy, you know that right." He says, smiling down at me with a lust filled look in his blue eyes.

His ‘flex’ made every one else previously hopeful for a turn with her step back, leaving it between the McDougan and VonTassel douche bags. I admit, I’m not great at judging ‘muscle’. I’m more or less a titan sitting in on a high school boxing match. None of them have half a prayer of taking her from me powerwise. Just carelessness which they’ve proven to have in spades. “Good thing I am not yours then,” she hisses back. If only she’d started the trip with this kind of grit. There is a hard set to her naturally violet irises when she speaks again. Petals of veined purple shades seemingly internally lit in her iris. I find the defiance as unique as those mysterious eyes of hers as she struggl

At the end of the hall, she saw her lover, waiting for her with quiet understanding in his eyes. “Timmy…” she whispered, barely holding herself together. “Let’s go.” He took one look at her and moved closer. “What happened, love?” he asked gently. But Violet didn’t answer. Her eyes caught something small and unexpected. Just behind him, sitting calmly on the couch, was a little girl with a head of vivid red curls. She was watching them silently, hugging a stuffed fox to her chest. And she looked exactly like Scarlet, like a miniature version of her, just with different features.

Iris “Arms up, please, Miss Willford.” I raise my arms dutifully as Violetta, the most sought-after human designer in Ordan, circles me with pins held between her lips. Her assistant hovers nearby, clutching a pincushion and looking nervous, as if expecting me to suddenly collapse under the weight of the fabric that’s draped around my frame. I don’t blame her; this gown is fucking enormous. “A little higher, please,” Violetta murmurs around her pins. “I need to check the draping on the bodice.”

"Right...fiancée. M-my apologies. I mistook you for someone else." "No harm done." I respond quickly, then reach for Rhett and turn to the door. "We should leave." "Stay." Marko mutters, but we have already attracted enough attention. "Not to worry, your majesty, my fiancé shall stay in my place.” He gives me a look. I know he means to say something, so I rush my departure. I should confirm where Violet is; I need to go. ** Violet's car is rusty, purple, old, and noisy, the literal definition of a jalopy, perhaps her grandmother's.

Her right hands clinched to her left wrist as she looked at space. “Ursula Theodore”, Violet’s mother did have a long history of abusive men and psychologically why Violet, a beautiful, smart and modern woman would take a low life Jonathan as a lover. During my search for Violet I had employed a private investigator who had informed me who Jonathan was, A pathological gambler and a failed artist. The car engine dropped at the sight of the tacos signboard, The domineering light seemed to catch Violet’s attention as she gazed upon the light lustfully.

I stammer, heaving. Please don't, I am nothing special, just Violet, a suicidal woman, a sad pathetic mess, a lying mess, a stupid mess, a mess that is riddles in panic attacks, Celia doesn't have to carry the burden of carrying my name, she is innocent and I will taint her. "I am sorry, Lia, I have to go." I say, getting up, ending the call, then run, I run as fast as I can. I run faster in hopes that I will be able to outrun the fact that I do not want Celia and Blu having my name because I might not be there to watch them grow, it will really suck having a dead woman's name.