Silence Natasha Preston Novels & Stories

I explain to Sia as this is the first time she is witnessing the process. “Natasha Shore. Daughter of the decorated Beta of pack Silver Cresent pack, please step into the spotlight to claim your mate” Benjamin announces. Damn! Why did he have to call her out first? I should have told him to call Sia’s name first. Natasha steps into the spotlight, looking gorgeous with her beautiful dress and immaculate makeup. Not that she needs any of it. She is a natural beauty like her mother. Natasha’s piercing gaze shoots up towards me and I try to look away feeling uneasy. All eyes on the room are on me now and I start feeling hot under my clothes. Sia squeezes my hand trying to calm me down. I don’t m

Natasha responds to the other person in a low voice, looking around as she spoke. “Proceed to next movement, we have to do it when she’s happy to the fullest” the other person informs Natasha for the next move before going silent. “Got it” Natasha responds before hanging up the call, turning her head to the closed door. Staring at the sleeping Tanya before walking away. --- 6 pm

Reaching out to the president of the mafia society like a man who had a plan and was assembling the pieces of it quietly and from multiple directions simultaneously. He stood there and breathed. ************************************************* Natasha had not moved. She was pressed against the wall at the curve of the staircase, one hand flat against the plaster, the bracelet she had been carrying down to give him held loosely in her other hand. She had heard everything from the moment the president began speaking. She had not meant to. She had been coming downstairs and the voices had started and something in the quality of the tension had stopped her feet before her brain had made the dec

"What's left?" The table had gone very quiet. Patricia was nodding slowly, satisfied, watching Maxwell the way a cat watches a cornered mouse. Natasha's jaw tightened. She had been patient all evening. Patient through the seating arrangement, through her mother's interrogation, through Tristan's endless posturing. But this?She was done being patient. "Tristan." Her voice came out low and controlled, which somehow made it more dangerous than if she had shouted. "You need to stop." Tristan turned to her slowly, like a man who had all the time in the world. "I'm simply asking questions, Natasha."

He turned toward the direction of the shot that had just struck his shoulder. “Damn it! Where did that come from?!” he cursed, clutching his arm as blood began to pour out. What was truly unsettling— Natasya did not scream. She did not show even the slightest trace of fear on her beautiful face. Instead, she sat upright… A faint smile curling on her lips—cold, dangerous, and utterly terrifying in the face of death. “I may have stayed silent… but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what you’ve been planning behind my back,” Natasya whispered to herself.

Inside the small private sitting room, Svetlana was waiting for her, seated elegantly in a burgundy velvet armchair. “Ma’am,” Svetlana inclined her head respectfully. Natália entered without haste, closing the door behind her. She walked to the opposite armchair and sat down with all the grace that blood and tradition demanded, crossing her legs impeccably. For a few moments, she remained silent, staring at the unlit fireplace in front of her. Then she spoke in the soft, polished voice that was her signature: “The elixir has become useless.” Svetlana lowered her eyes, in a rare display of discomfort.

If it weren’t for her clenched jaw and flushed face, I would’ve thought I imagined it. I held my breath and counted to thirty. “You’re the one that told my father to keep me away from Lilac. What else have you meddled in? How the fuck does sabotaging our lives help destroy the Eye?” Hakeem pulled me back as Natasha crossed the room, headed for one of the leather couches. She lowered herself into the seat and brushed her hair from her face. Everything about her, from her expression to the way she carried herself, screamed poised and collected. Here she was seconds away from being mauled to death and she couldn’t even muster a tendril of fear.

Charles, visibly agitated, paced the room like a storm confined within four walls. “You called me, Sir?” she said, in what seemed a confident tone or facade that she pulled. He turned sharply as Natasha approached, and the silence spoke volumes. "Natasha," he thundered, "do you realize what you've done? Terminating a major project without consulting anyone—"

They even looked at each other, laughing, and were also whispering as they looked at her still. She swallowed the lump on her throat, but just as she usually did, she chose not to mind the meaningful looks that they were giving her. It's now or never, Tasyang! Natasha wanted the ground to eat her because from where she was standing, she could hear them talking about her. The only thing that she could do was to hold her envelope tightly against her chest. She took her earphones out from her bag before putting them in her ears. She also maxed the volume of the music that she was listening to.

They reached the elevator, and Sila carefully placed the suitcase down, his gaze fixed on Natasha. "May I have the honor of helping you out, my lady?" Sila asked, extending his arm towards the open elevator. Natasha looked at him and smiled," Stop it, you haven't stopped being crazy," she said as she pushed his hand away. She then nodded, her face full of excitement. She gracefully took Sila's arm, allowing him to lead her into the elevator. Sila pressed the button for the ground floor, his touch gentle and loving. As the elevator went down, he leaned closer to Natasha, his voice filled with warmth.