Novel & Cerita Night Of Destiny Novel Anastasia

Her blood boiled, jealousy twisting her features into a mask of fury. As the echo of their footsteps faded down the stairs, Anastasia darted forward, her gown's train snagging briefly on the carpet. She burst into the room uninvited, eyes wild, scanning the vanity. The ashtray smoldered, flames still licking the edges of the half-burned file—salvageable, if she acted fast. "No," she hissed through clenched teeth, lunging for the crystal dish. Her manicured fingers plunged into the ash, ignoring the sting of heat as she snatched the charred remnants. Pages blackened but intact in the center fluttered free: key clauses, signatures, dates—enough to unravel everything.

It weighs more than my broken pointe shoes because dreams are heavy when they die. How did we get here? I am Anastasia Volkov. Anya to the few who still care. Daughter of Dimitri Volkov, once the king of oil and steel. Before the crash, our name opened every door in Moscow. Papa’s parties filled three floors. Crystal chandeliers, Caviar Mountains, women in diamonds that hurt to look at. I wore silk dresses that cost more than cars, soft against my skin, bright like candy. I smiled for the cameras, teeth perfect, chin high. “The Volkov princess,” they called me in magazines and at parties. I hated the name; it sounded weak, like a doll.

I press on, "You see, Dwight, we both have our doubts, our insecurities. And perhaps, in acknowledging them, we can find a way to ensure that our mates remain loyal to us, no matter what." Dwight's gaze drop to the ground as he tucks in his hands inside his coat’s pockets. As the weight of our words poised on the precipice of revelation, the stillness of the night is shattered by the sound of footsteps approaching. Anastasia emerges from the mansion's entrance, her presence casting a sudden spell of interruption over the scene. Carrying a thick folder cradled in her arms, Anastasia makes her way toward us, her gaze downward. She only lifts her gaze when she talks to me."Yvanna, I'll be borro

I whispered, casting a spell to ensure that not even the faintest sound would escape the confines of my chamber. … As the sun painted the sky with hues of gold, Anastasia defied her instinct to escape and instead sought solace in my embrace. With a mischievous grin adorning her face, she playfully etched her thoughts onto my chest, her delicate fingers leaving a trail of secrets. "Darling," she whispered. I coughed, caught off guard by her sudden boldness. "What?!" Anastasia pouted, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Easy there," I cautioned.

Anastasia’s Pov. I remember that night clearly like it was just yesterday. A week ago wasn't that far, but it was still as clear as yesterday The night that acted as the starting gear to this whole nonsense. "Did you also have an idea of who I was before starting the bet?” Stone nodded and I felt my stomach ache. For clarification I asked, "What exactly did you know?” "That you work for the Anti Mafia organisation, Anastasia Mikhailova, Organisation name, Tequila, which is a lovely pick by the way, and you are specially in charge of handling the ISG."

MUST READ* As of this stage in the book, Anastasiya has fully accepted her role and her new life as Valencia. Anastasiya Van Houten is dead, and as that, I will no longer be writing in her point of view. She will now be addressed as Valencia as I continue with this book. Forever. I hope this clears the air, and you won't be confused when you read the next chapter, and it's in Valencia Nightingale's point of view. I love you all, and thank you for reading my book. Don't forget to give me a review and tell me your honest thoughts. With much love. Rahma♡

Still challenging me and refusing to let fear decide what she did next. For the first time, I saw her differently. Not as Clara’s daughter or as the woman I had promised to protect. Not as the innocent kindergarten teacher who had been dragged into a world she never asked for. I saw Anastasia. She was afraid but she wasn’t weak.There was a difference. You should have stayed in the room," I murmured, my voice very calm. "And you should stop acting like I'm helpless," she whispered back, her lower lip trembling slightly. She was right. God help me, she was right. My desperation to protect her was choking her.

That doesn’t happen much less ones that have full pledged responsibility already. The light and the darkness. Lux and Crocell are the embodiment of both. “I will always find you no matter what happens. I will choose you every single day my love—always.” Lux said as he clung unto his lover. He loves the man…more than life itself. He can’t see this ending. No. --- Ashley’s POV A sharp gasp escaped my mouth as I was waken up from another dream—dream? Was that even a dream? It’s borderline nightmare already! What the fuck was that even about?

Eyes bloodshot with purpose, Dev had vowed to restore his mother’s lost honor, in terms of enticing one of Alastair’s beloved daughters to have a bargaining power. The daughter had to be of eligible age, on Anastasia’s twentieth birthday, his long-awaited endurance finally paid off when his detective had informed him of a clandestine holiday in Italy. It had been the perfect setting to woo the unsuspecting daughter and hold all the right cards until he would face his sworn enemy.

“No, I am asking for you to loosen up for one night. Give yourself to the fun of what you’ll be seeing, experiencing maybe, the men and women you’ll be speaking to, the conversations, everything…” Anastasia was quiet for a few seconds, and I knew that it was because she was mostly worried about what she was going to see. I didn’t blame her. The woman didn’t know what to expect, and if anything, I think she expected finding herself in some dark room filled with girls who were being raped time and time for pleasure. Though some of these events did contain such things, I wasn’t as stupid as to bring her to one when all she wanted was to prove us wrong. She would be surprised to see that it was