Kristina Romanova Age Novels & Stories

We collapsed together, whispering promises of protection and eternal sin. —--------- The new heir, a 24-year-old woman named Celeste, demanded a meeting in the city. She had stunning, dark hair, curves like Elena’s, and the same hungry eyes. The "discussion" in the penthouse suite turned sexual within minutes. Elena orchestrated it, kissing Celeste passionately while I watched.

Katerina Two taps, and then the bedroom door swings open to reveal a woman older than my mother. Her short hair is streaked white and gray, like a birch tree in winter. She's wearing a stiff dress the color of mud that covers her from her wrists to her ankles. The only color on her is the twin sapphire studs in her ears. They match the discerning eyes that follow my hand as I shove my phone under a pillow. "Dobriy vecher," she says. "You must be Katerina. I'm Ulyana Nazarova, the head of the household staff."

MEANWHILE in Russia… "Tamara, why are you here?" Tamara Kromatov, the only living female descendant of the original Kromatova family that long lived since Russia existed. Maxim Kromatova's niece. Vanluke Kromatova's precious cousin. Tamara has a special condition of mild intellectual disability. Despite her age, twenty-nine, she remains to face hardships of social difficulty, reading and writing, and sense of responsibility just to name a few. She's the darling of the Kromatova family, highly protected within the main mansion in Russia. Her innocence about everything is what got Yulia Petrov attracted to her in spite of her limited confidence.

"Why is it so important to you?" Valerina glared at me with those big blue eyes. "I'm leaving," she said and began to get up, but I pulled her back by the wrist. "Alright if you must," I said and turned to look at her directly. "I am the youngest daughter of Czar Nicolas Romanov. My name is Anastasiya Nikolaevna Romanova, and I am a Grand Duchess and Imperial Princess of Russia."

Isabella flinched. "Why?" "Because someone should remember them. Someone should say their names out loud. Someone should make sure they're not forgotten." She was silent for a long moment. Then she began to speak. --- Oksana. Fifteen. From Odessa. She wanted to be a dancer. Natasha. Seventeen. From Minsk. She had a younger brother she never stopped talking about. Yelena. Fourteen. From Kyiv. She looked just like me. Irina. Sixteen. From Moscow. She fought the hardest. She screamed the loudest. She was the one who made my mother stop.

ROSALINA (Presently 23 years old) After applying the last coat of mascara over my long brown lashes, I checked myself in the mirror to make sure everything was perfect. I had an ick for imperfections when it came to my appearance. I slightly adjusted my black miniskirt to reveal my midsection, which was accentuated by a pink, off-shoulder crop top. I ran a brush through my hair again, as I noticed it was slightly disheveled.

I’m not even surprised. Before I could reach the last page, I came to a halt on one picture. Tilting my head, I examined the picture before looking at her information. Something about her seemed different than the rest. Ekaterina Petrov. 20 years old. 5’3. Russian. I couldn’t put my finger on what about her made me stop, but I didn’t have time for it right now. I slammed the folder closed, looking up to find Edgardo still flicking through the pages.

Christin looked at Natasha with a serious expression suddenly. "Aren't you 30 already?" Natasha's face was full of shock. Could it be that she had remembered it wrongly? "That is not right! I am 29 years old! And, I haven't celebrated my 29th birthday yet! My 29th birthday is in October this year!" Christin emphasized his exact age seriously. "Shall we get married? At least let me have the chance to become a father at the age of thirty. Otherwise, when my hair turns white, my child won't call me father anymore." Christin looked aggrieved.

In her frequent photos on the society pages, the matriarch always had an untouchable aura about her, but there was none of her usual glamour now. " Are you alright? " - Yuri " Of course. " - Kristina voice was bland as she knowingly added to her sins. 'Forgive me, Yuri Daniel Athanas.' Kristina had deliberately witheld the truth of her medical condition from the younger man, fearing his refusal if he realized that he might have only months left before fate demanded him to tie himself irrevocably to a stranger. After accepting the keys from the valet, Yuri faced Kristina again. " Is there anything else you would like to discuss? " - Yuri

I whispered, under my breath, "Of course, I wouldn't tell you about it, until you ask me to, do you want me to tell you the kind of woman you are? Your type of woman, huh?" I nodded, "Words, Kristen!" "Yes, Damien, tell me," I.urged and he smiled cycling around me, that mock grin still planted on his face, "Kristen Stewart, age 26 a strong independent woman who was able to help her mother settle in the city after she suffered from constant abuse from her father, she made sure to help her mother get a divorce and did so many types of jobs just to enable her mother to be comfortable. Never Been in a serious relationship, but had a few things here and there. She is ambitious and very money-driv