Valerie Bertinelli Book Mga Nobela at Kwento

Everyone was celebrating the happy couple. And then the front door burst open. A woman stepped inside. She was tall and elegant, dressed in a sharp navy pantsuit. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Her eyes were sharp and focused. She carried a leather briefcase in one hand. The room went completely silent. Gabriella's smile vanished instantly. Her face went pale. Her hands started trembling. "Valerie," she breathed. "What are you doing here?" Valerie Rossi smiled coldly. "Hello, Gabriella. It's been a long time. Last I saw you, you were trying to destroy my career. Remember?"

By now, my voice is rising, but I don't give a shit. None of them gives me an answer, which infuriates me almost more than reading the article. "How am I supposed to believe that whoever this person is, they seem to know every deal we are interested in, even when the deals are secret?" "That's the problem," Vincent says. "I've been trying to check from my end where this can be happening, but there is nothing."

Her gaze remained steady. One day those women would hear her name on television, in newspapers, in conversations they were never meant to join. And they would remember this corridor. They would remember exactly how wrong they had been. Valerie intended to make sure of it. She adjusted her lipstick, smoothed her dress, and returned to dinner. The evening ended shortly after nine. The drive home was silent for three minutes. Then Anthony finally spoke. "What was that?" "Dinner," Valerie answered pleasantly. "You told my father about the land before you told me."

Everyone except the one she had asked to stay. Valeria walked in without knocking, the door clicking shut behind her like the closing of a trap. She wore the regulation black leotard and pale pink tights, but the fabric looked different on her body, stretched too tight across full breasts, clinging to the flare of her hips, the long sweep of her thighs. Her hair was twisted up in a careless knot, damp wisps already escaping at her nape. She carried nothing. No bag, no water bottle, no pretense of innocence. Elena did not speak at first. She let the silence stretch until Valeria’s pulse was visible at the base of her throat. Then, quietly, “Center floor. From the variation. I want to see it a

Valerie didn't spare her parents a second glance as she walked past them into her office. She moved straight to her desk, her expression blank and composed. "Send them in," she told Melissa once she was settled behind her desk. "And have security on standby." As Gilbert and Bertha entered her sanctuary, Valerie studied them with cold detachment. Time had not been kind to either of them. Gilbert looked withered, probably due to too much drinking. His skin was sagged and loose around the neck. Bertha had aged even worse - her dyed blonde hair scanty and thinning, her face lined with deep creases and wrinkles.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC SEXUAL VIOLENCE, RAPE, ASSAULT, MURDER, TRAUMA, STRONG LANGUAGE, AND REVENGE THEMES. READER DISCRETION ADVISED. VALERIA As a little girl, I dreamed big—actress, a pop star, designer maybe or a model... basically anything that would slap my face on Vogue and of course lots of paparazzi attention. Well, here I am... margarita in one hand, phone in the other, scrolling—when I see a picture of me and Dante on the Daily Mail. My lips curl at the headline; Blue Cyber CEO spotted with new lover. New lover, alright.

The old woman asked and Valerie shook her head in refusal. "I like this one, let's go" she didn't care of which clothes she goes out with, she only needed to take a walk. When they were ready, she left with grandma Riri. In the BT cartel, Martin was sitting in his office and working on his computer when his phone beeped. He looked to see a picture of Valerie in her thick sweater outside. He began starting at how pretty looked even though her smile in the picture was really fake, she looked so pleasant to admire.

Benita and the other roommates said in unism. Valerie swallowed hard. “I knew it, that bitch!” Juliet blurted out before she could stop herself, the billionaire gave her a glance and she quickly shut her mouth. “Valerie Malvern.” Romero called making Valarie trembled the more, she had to hold on to the ground to support herself. “If I remembered correctly, I had your issues before me sometimes ago but it seems you never listen, well not anymore I hope.” “Please,” Valerie cried, she crawled to Romero's feet, holding one of his feet, she cried all the more “Please, don't ruin my life, I am nothing without all I have, please sir.”

--- The crash began quietly, an echo of heels on marble. Arielle straightened as the footsteps approached, confident and slow like a verdict being delivered. Then she entered. Tall, Gorgeous, Sharp cheekbones, A dress that dripped wealth and spite in equal measure, walked in like she own the place. Valeria Moretti. Damian’s ex.

She’s angry that Donovan has suddenly lost interest in sleeping with her, it didn’t come as a surprise to Valerie that she might have been the one that started the rumors about her sleeping with Donovan, to get the privilege of being his personal assistant. The girls here are crazy and totally out of their minds. The guts of her to think that if there’s anything that Donovan think of her, it’s just the part about her being another body for him on her bed. The man is engaged yet a big man whore, Valerie felt for the fiancée without knowing who she was. But she already knew whoever she is, she had to know that she isn’t the only one sharing her man.