The Secret Beneath Her Name Novels & Stories

The hidden life growing inside her was a silent anchor, a profound secret that kept her completely grounded while the entire world around her prepared for a new regime. She dressed with efficient, quiet movements, sliding into a thick charcoal wool sweater and a long black skirt. Her bandaged arm throbbed slightly beneath her sleeve, but she systematically ignored the pain. She had exactly twenty-four days left to play the part of the compliant, invisible ghost, and she was determined to execute her exit with flawless precision.

“You’ll have a break from your studies soon, right? Visit this place and find out more.” Vero’s gaze shifted from Etana’s slender fingers with red painted nails to the piece of paper that looked like a business card. Her hand lifted and touched the paper, carefully reading the address written there, and she gasped when she realized the name of the place written on it. The Queen’s Secret Palace. The nightclub she had been visiting all this time. She went there based on her parents’ recommendation, as they said it was safe. It turned out to be part of a plan.

Disclaimer This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, organizations, and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. She's A Secret Agent By Kiths L. Napao A secret agent, FBI's stunningly gorgeous, seemingly innocent Secret Agent Violet. Call her spooks. Sleuths. Femme fatale. Few figures are as compelling as a female spy.

was the last thing he said before I decided to drop the call. Why did I even bother asking my father for something I knew he wouldn't do? My father is a powerful man and yes, I decided to leave his wing and live as a normal person because of Theo Delfin. Theo did not come from a wealthy family and I have no problems with that. Back then, I liked him too much and I knew he would not even dare look at me if he knew who I am. In order for him to notice me, I pretended to be someone else. In this world, I am not Saskia Smithsonia. I am Valerie Damer -- using my mother's maiden name. To Theo, I am someone who is exactly like him.

I snapped, my voice cutting through the noise from downstairs. “Obviously,” she replied, her voice dripping with contempt. But she was already moving, surprisingly agile for her age. She pressed a hidden switch under the lip of her desk. A section of the bookshelf behind her swung inward with a soft hiss, revealing a dark passageway. “This way. Unless you’d prefer to be a martyr.” I didn’t hesitate. I followed her into the darkness, the secret door swinging shut behind us just as the study door burst open. Muffled shouts and the beam of a flashlight cut through the gap for a second before we were sealed in utter blackness.

To avoid drawing attention from whoever was watching through the cameras, I pretended to be doing a deep cleaning, trying to figure out where the cameras were. Sure enough, I found a few more, and even found one under the bed that was broken. I put the new camera in a hidden spot and took the broken one away. Sitting on the couch, I reflected on everything that had happened in the past few days. Then Nydia approached from behind, her breath warm against my ear. "Honey, Ms. Wright plans to promote me, but I need to land a big deal first. I'm a little tight on cash at the moment, and I was hoping you could help me out."

Her mind flashed back to the file she had seen on the Mother Superior’s desk. The Order of The Seraphim was boldly written on it. What if the Mother Superior was actually a villain? Arya’s heart pounded frantically against her chest as the realization dawned on her. Nah, Isabel is grumpy, yes, not evil. She tried to step closer, hoping to listen more intently, but the thick wall protecting what was inside was high. As her shoulder leaned on the wall, a brick shifted from its place, revealing a secret entrance with stairs that led underground. The last time she had seen something like this was when she discovered her father’s involvement in human trafficking. What was it with the people in he

"What does he want?" she asked. "Bring you to him. He asked me to smother you and take you there. But I can't; I can't hurt you, who are innocent at all," he sobbed. "What's your name? Come on, get up!" Angela shouted, helping the woman stand up from her embrace. "My name is Diana. I beg you to help and save my daughter, Hizz." "You know Alexa?" "Yes, back when she was a model, I was the makeup artist," Diana exclaimed.

In the shadows of the underground hideout, the wheels of their grand scheme continued to turn, bringing them one step closer to their ultimate goal. Isolde, shrouded in the secrecy of her clandestine meeting, had no inkling that she was being observed. In the dark recesses of the underground hideout, where the air was thick with conspiratorial whispers, a pair of young eyes followed her every move. Felicity, a teenage witch with a penchant for eavesdropping, had been lurking in the shadows, her curiosity piqued.

I did not have breath left to ask further questions, another contraction tearing through me with brutal force just as Ruth pulled the car to a stop beside a rusted, overgrown structure that looked, to any ordinary passerby, like nothing more than abandoned industrial ruin. She helped me down a narrow, hidden stairway, torch in one hand, my full weight leaning heavily against her steady shoulder, and we descended into darkness that smelled of old stone and standing water and decades of careful, deliberate secrecy. The chamber she led me to sat deep beneath the city's forgotten infrastructure, dry despite its underground location, clearly maintained across years of quiet, patient preparation.