Mrs Vines Dark Winds Novels & Stories

"No. There's a lot to do. Tell Secretary Lottie to bring in the contracts that need to be signed. Oh, and how's the acquisition process of Sharp Wings airlines going?" "Flawlessly well." "And I suppose the media is being controlled well." "Yes, boss." *** "Did you find out who she is?" Oliver asked. "Yes sir. She isn't the vice president of RN group but...she's President Jayden's wife. Erin Reynolds." The female secretary replied. "What? Now that's surprising. He doesn't deserve her. I wonder how she agreed to marry a jerk like him. Find out why she had to impersonate the vice president."

The night crawling toward dawn left an incredibly heavy silence inside the master suite room. The remnants of the fierce storm from the treachery of the three men of the Vance clan still left a dense trace in the air, but on top of that mahogany wooden bed, time seemed to move slower with a steady rhythm. Inside the wrap of the thick white silk blanket, Vivienne was still weeping and sobbing, hiding her chubby face in the nook of Tristan's broad neck which was stained with spots of dried blood completely tonight.

The darkness swallowed him whole. Vincent's claws scraped against nothing. His roar echoed, but the void smothered it, choking the sound back into his chest. His golden eyes cut through the darkness as he called out, “Camela!” There was no reply. Just silence. Then—soft footsteps. They were not hers. A thin figure emerged from the darkness—a woman in plain clothes, her white apron stained, and her face hidden in the dark. A maid. Vincent froze in place, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he asked, “Who are you?”

The storm rolled in fully by morning, soaking the cliffs in grey and blurring the horizon until sky and sea became one indistinct veil. Sloane stood at her window, arms folded tight across her chest, watching the waves crash violently against the rocks below. The wind hit heavy against the glass, and the mansion groaned in answer, timbers shifting like old bones.

They held my funeral on a drizzly day. Francis stood by the grave, decked out in a black suit, black umbrella in hand, his face a mask of nothing. The casket was sealed tight. After a fall from the 18th floor, there was not much left to show, and not even the mortician could work miracles. Nora was at his side in a black dress, her sobs barely a whisper. Bernard loomed nearby, his expression dark as storm clouds. The rest of the clans had shown up, pretending to grieve, but really, they were all watching to see if the Davis family would crumble, if Francis would break.

She loved the colour of it, the texture and just how beautiful it looked when it covered the earthy plane. The wind started to pick up, and she lifted her head to welcome it. It felt refreshing after all the horrible images her mind made her see. Opening her eyes, she gasped at the sight of a man leaning against a tree with a smug look on his face. Harlow thought it was her imagination, but when she blinked several times and he remained there, she couldn't help but scream.

A sigh escapes my lips as dread washes over me, realising I didn't have a coat or an umbrella. Absolutely brilliant. Way to go, Rose. I place my hand on the glass door, knowing that soon I will be drenched. I turn to face the old librarian as she approaches the door, "Goodbye." I say softly, then walk out into the freezing cold rain, the wind whipping at my skin and causing my ebony hair to stick to my face.

Raymond once again halted Ravi's steps when he tried to open the front door. "I have to go; don't hold me back this time." As Ravi opened the door, in a swift motion, he was pulled back by Raymond, and his eyes widened as Raymond's wings emerged and immediately enveloped Ravi in a tight embrace. For a brief moment, Ravi could see Adrian there, brandishing his sword high, and everything went dark.

Chapter 5: Stormy Night Claiming The tropical storm descended on Voss Island without mercy just after sunset. Winds howled through the palms like angry spirits. Rain lashed the floor-to-ceiling windows of the villa in violent sheets. Thunder cracked so loudly the glass vibrated. Power flickered once, then died completely, plunging the entire island into darkness broken only by the brilliant flashes of lightning. Elena paced her suite, nerves frayed. The storm mirrored the chaos inside her — the constant push and pull between defiance and the growing, terrifying need for the man who ruled every inch of this paradise.

"She's fine. The gown is designed with a thermal resistor that regulates heat, so she is fairly warm in it, isn't that right, Vinca?" Vinca smiled and nodded, causing streaks of anger to course through Shanice's veins. "This bitch, just wait till I find a way of dealing with you" she was seething! "Frost, it's so good to see you. How have you been?" He turned at the voice to see Mr. V and next to him, the last person on earth that he wanted to meet, his aura turning cold suddenly. Vinca found her hand harshly squeezed and almost winced in pain.