Valeria Garza Novels & Stories

Opening the door, Christiana stood in front of her. "I forgot my handbag and umbrella at your house." "So sorry for the inconvenience." Her voice was laced with remorse. Staring at her, Daisy Hunter said," What, No, it's really okay…I too forget my stuff in people's homes." Daisy Hunter said, smiling gleefully, exposing her perfect dentition. Stepping into the dimly lit room, Christiana spotted her handbag and umbrella, grabbing it, she thanked Daisy and stepped out immediately.

Her head whipped so fast and she looked at me like I was some kind of an alien. "You're kidding right?" She looked at me with doubt. I nervously smiled and shook my head. "I am not. I never had a boyfriend." I cleared out. "What?" Sarah looked like she couldn't process what I said. Was it a crime to not have a boyfriend or not have a Hickie? "Arabella—" before she could say another word, the professor walked in and everyone quietened down. "This is not over." She warned me playfully before concentrating on the front where the professor stood handing out sheets of our essays.

Gallagher, I hope this message reaches you in good spirits. My name is Catriona Agreste, and I am a newly admitted attorney working in corporate strategy. Your legal thrillers have become an absolute lifeline for me during long, grueling nights preparing briefs and navigating the complicated power dynamics of high-stakes environments. The way you portray the emotional and professional toll on women who dare to challenge entrenched systems is breathtakingly authentic and deeply resonant.

"And nobody, nobody at all will do anything about it.” “Oh, really Mr. Rodgruiez?” her voice taunting, “I think you must have hit your head somewhere tonight. You seem to have forgotten exactly who I am.” She teased and my smirk faltered a bit. “I am Valerie, yes, but not the one you used to know. I am Valerie Ann Maria Hernandez, granddaughter of Henry Hernandez and I run this city. Let that stick to your brains!” she spat confidently.

Marcos extended his welcome to the woman who had sent him to hell. All Valeria could see in front of her was the vivid image of Marcos Muriel. The woman beside him wasn’t really recognizable. But maybe just for her, because Zein and Antonio had seen the resemblance with the dead wife of Zein and the resemblance with the woman who was carrying the child of Antonio in the past. For a moment, Valeria felt like collapsing any second, but soon she remembered she was the great lady of the people in that town, she was the one who showed how powerful she was, never weak, never vulnerable.

I finally said that I would and now we were on our way to Paris, to meet up with her at her condo. She was my grandfather's sister, Eliza Brinx, she was a fashion icon and the most adnired family member in the Brinx line of work, she was the prettiest woman I've ever seen in all my life, even at the age of fifty, Eliza was a remarkable being, she was a model and also an entrepreneur. She was my favorite person in the entire world. "Why do I allow you to take me out of the US?" Elijah asks, scanning the busy streets once we got out of the car, outside of Eliza's condo building.

The photograph felt like a live wire in my hands. Lanc, so young, his face unlined by the bitterness and obsession that would later consume him. And her. Valeria Sable. Not a historian, but a ghost from his past, with a laugh that seemed to mock the tragedy that followed. V.S. The initials were a brand, searing a new, unknown chapter into a story I thought was complete.

Which was very sweet of him. I heard a light knock on my door before he opened the door and peeped. “Hey.” He said with an innocent smile. “Karl, hi. Any news?” “Well, Zara is involved now.” “Zara? That obnoxious girl I met who was being racist?” “Exactly, she's involved. I'm keeping a close eye on her. She was the one who gave Valeria a ride to the city, but she claims that after she dropped her off, she didn't see her again.