Valentino Hazbin Hotel Novels & Stories

Standing at the hob was Zahara Luna. Valentin stopped to stare at her for a moment. Her long, straight red hair was as beautiful as ever, even wrapped up into the chignon she wore as she cooked. Her features had hardened with war and age. They were still softer than Victoria’s yet sharper at the jaw and nose than they’d been when they started the rebellion.

“No! Uncle Tino got me pizza and toys and candy and—” “Jesus,” I muttered, pulling back to check his face. Still him. Still loud. Still, my little storm. He ran to Selena next. She scooped him up like her arms were made of home. And then came him. Valentino. Leaning in the doorway like he owned the whole damn estate. Smirking. Reeking of smoke, liquor, and sex. And behind him? Two women. Strippers. Bleach-blonde, long legs, tight leather skirts, lip gloss shining like glass. One popped gum. The other winked.

I demanded. Valentina stepped closer, the faint click of her heels echoing in the empty hall. “This room,” she said, tapping a small remote in her hand, “is wired with explosives. One flick of my finger, and you both die… along with that little bastard who should’ve never been born.” Damian’s voice thundered, deep and furious. “You won’t dare call my daughter a bastard!” I turned to him, fury clawing up my throat. “Who gave you the right to call her your daughter?”

Camera shutters exploded like fireworks as the hotel suite door burst open, a sea of reporters charging into the room, microphones raised, phones recording, and expressions stretched in a mix of horror and delight. Cameron Knight lay sprawled across a velvet armchair, completely naked, his once-perfect hair a bird's nest of sweat and confusion. Around him, two of the girls from Velvet Heat were lazily picking their dresses off the floor, adjusting their heels, and smirking like cats who had swallowed the entire canary. "Sir, care to comment on what appears to be an orgy with escorts?" one reporter shouted, voice gleeful. "Did you drug them, Mr. Knight? Were they underage?"

On Valentine’s Day, Ethan Scott had a last-minute social engagement and left me home alone. Late at night, I received a message from him, telling me to meet him at a bar. Thinking he had finally remembered me, I rushed out the door, eager to see him. But when I came to the door of the private lounge, the scene before me froze me in place. Taylor Winston straddled Ethan’s lap, her silk camisole slipping from her shoulders, the straps barely clinging to her elbows.

My whole body shivered uncontrollably. Ian… How could he? Out there, with another woman? And so recklessly that it landed them in a hospital? The realization was like a blow to the gut. My breath hitched painfully, and I clung to the wall for support. Why did I have to find out like this—while carrying his child? Why did he have to betray me, especially today, of all days? Valentine's Day. Suddenly, a sharp, stabbing pain gripped my belly. I bent over, barely able to stay on my feet, while the voices around me continued unabated.

“And don’t think of it as a bad thing. The boss is a good-looking man. Like, really good-looking. You could do worse.” I open my mouth to respond, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs cuts me off. We all turn to see Valentine descending, his presence immediately commanding the room. Well, speak of the devil. He’s dressed in all black—a fitted shirt, tailored pants, and boots that make almost no sound as he walks. His golden eyes sweep over us, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. Mara and Finn are on their feet in an instant, their chairs scraping against the floor. “We’ll clean up,” Mara says quickly, grabbing her plate and heading for the kitchen.

The shadowy figure at the other end said. I moved closer expecting to be greeted by the face of a serial killer or a weird guy but I couldn’t be more wrong. He had a face fit for a Greek God, he looked like a Calvin Klein top model with his luscious blonde hair, charming blue eyes and enchanting smile which was further accentuated with two dimples on both cheeks. “Hi Valentina, I am Desmond Sandals and I have a job for you.” He said with the most amazing smile ever which further showed off his dimples.

I chuckle sadly. "Then p-please-… Please, don't hurt me," little Valerie begs. "I won't because you're going to meet a charismatic vampire and call him Charming. He's going to be your saviour, your brother. He's going to put you on a sugar rush, and you'll pretend you hate it, but deep down, you love it. You're going to see Eldora. The beauty behind the chaos. There's going to be a witch. She's going to take care of you and share her wisdom, heal your wounds."

The door was slightly ajar and loud, tensed voices drifted out. I should have kept walking. Instead, I stopped. “…brought a stray into the house,” a cold, authoritative voice said. “A divorced Rossi girl. Living under your roof and parading around Valentino Enterprises like she belongs there.” My stomach dropped. That was Victor Valentino. I pressed myself against the wall hidden just outside the doorway, heart hammering as I tried to eavesdrop. Kai’s voice answered, calm but firm. “Her name is Hazel. And she’s not a stray.”