Olga Romanov Novels & Stories

I say I am convinced that Helga is telling the truth. "I know Vladimir will have no mercy on her soul if he gets a hold of her. Does Vladimir know that she has helped us? What if he does not know and takes it back as his sister, and she betrays us? Our children have betrayed us for a very long time. The only one that stood up for us was Johanna. And she always stood up for us. She was the oldest of all our children. And it is such a shame that she is the one that is dead. I would have preferred having her around and not Helga. I know I could trust her, but I am not sure we can trust Helga," Olga says, irritating me.

After the system recognized my credentials, I launched the call to Vasha. “Francine, why so soon?” I recognized Olya’s bitchy voice before the video clearly showcased her arrogant face. I’d tried avoiding her at all costs, but I finally had to get a good look at Vasha’s EX girlfriend. Her platinum hair was thinner than mine, but ran straight to almost the middle of her back. She was immaculately dressed in a baby pink silk tube top and short pleated black skirt. Her flawless porcelain skin was possibly a shade lighter than Vasha's and probably felt like velvet. Amber eyes slathered in dark shadow and liner narrowed at me egotistically. I hated to admit it, but she was absolutely gorgeous. Th

His plan was a perfect alibi to avoid raising suspicion. “Okay, count me in then” I casually said, extending the phone back to Olga. As the call ended, I didn't waste time asking. "Olga, how do you know Keith?" Her eyes are still cold and sharp like always, "I met him… years ago. On one of my… short trips. He mentioned a plan, something about a change in the monarchy," I raised a brow, “Like a new era?” Olga's lips curved into a thin smile, “Yes, Madame”

She didn’t argue. Olga walked inn, draped in black, her veil trailing the dusty stones like smoke. She walked with a bowl of herbs. Sacrifices for the dead. Offerings to cleanse the air of spilled blood. My stomach coiled with unease. I watched her drift toward Isabella’s quarters and caught her near the western corridor, just as she dismissed her helpers. “Olga,” I said softly. She turned. I approached her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your rites. I just—”

He was referring to her by her first name. "Elena Romanov, the former queen of Lunaria, is the woman who gave birth to me and Mikhail, of course." He replied. A smile crossed his lips. His eyes sparkled with amusement. "But honestly I wasn't expecting you to be here," he mused. Then I laughed out loud. "That bastard almost killed me because of you. Unknown to him, his little lover was kidnapped by his mother." Mikhail was searching for me. My eyes sparkled with hope. I almost grinned.

Olga walked into the council room with a stern expression on her face. Olga was arguably the most beautiful woman in the pack, perhaps across several packs even. But still, she was not Maisie. She could not make my heart flutter as Maisie did. I gulped. “Why is that wife?” I asked, keeping my tone calm and ignoring my wolf’s insistence on tearing apart Olga for making such a suggestion about my mate. “She has committed treason, dear,” replied Olga gravely. “Treason?” I frowned. “Did she try to hurt you?” I asked with fake concern.

‎I’m in the vegetable aisle, weighing avocados like my life depends on it, when a familiar voice floats over the lettuce. ‎“Nora, darling!” ‎I freeze. ‎Turn slowly. ‎Olga Romanov stands there in cream slacks and a silk blouse, looking like she stepped out of a magazine titled Elegance for Women Over Seventy. ‎A maid hovers behind her with a cart. ‎Olga beams and envelops me in a cloud of vanilla perfume and grandmotherly warmth. ‎“You look radiant!” she declares, holding me at arm’s length. “Come, you must have lunch with me. I’m all alone in that big house and starving for decent company.”

"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."

Rather who was right and who wasn’t. “Dahlia went out of control. She kidnapped me. This was one thing Olga never expected. And one other thing that shocked her was the fact that you called my parents that night,” he said. He stroked my hair and kissed me on the crown of my head. Resting his cheek on my head, he looked at our son who was sleeping peacefully. “Olga knew that if you died, the empire would come crumbling down. She protected you by hiding you in the garage on the day when my father came crashing down on Dahlia. Olga ran away with her son and stayed hidden for a month before surfacing. By that time, you were gone. She started revamping Ivan’s empire to take control, but another u

A tall, imposing figure with a cruel grin caught her attention. Vladimir Petrov, a notorious Russian oligarch known for his ruthless tactics.