Valerie Bertinelli Novels & Stories

Although I was used to being around classy people like this, it didn't mean I enjoyed the stiff atmosphere and boring business conversations. “You must be Belva Moguel.” I stiffened. She didn't seem surprised at my reaction. Instead, she just smiled deeper. I tilted my head, trying to remain calm. “And who are you?” She held out a hand. “Valeria Mikhailova.” I shook her hand hesitantly. “You know me?” Valeria took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, though she only held it without actually drinking it. “I've been working at Romanov International since ten years ago.”

“Zara, right?” I stand up, keeping my tone professional. “Yes, Miss Harington. Good morning.” She studies me openly, her gaze sliding from my simple black blouse down to my pencil skirt and back up again. There’s nothing rude about it, but I feel stripped bare. “Valerio mentioned he hired someone new,” she says, tilting her head slightly. “He usually goes through at least five candidates before settling. You must be quite… capable.” The subtle dig lands perfectly, the implication clear: What makes you so special?

Lina reclined on the delivery bed, her eyes filled with triumph. The old Don of the Valentino Family gripped his cane, smiling wider than ever before. His voice rang out louder than usual. "The Valentino family has an heir! I hereby declare that he will become the successor of our family!" He pointed proudly at the newborn. Everyone cheered, celebrating with delight, yet not a single person mentioned me. Watching it all, I dug my nails into my palm. Then suddenly, Renato's assistant rushed in, panting. "Don… Madre… she's still in the storage room, waiting to give birth."

Ass-lickers the both of them. “Doesn’t Valentina have connections to the elite in New York?” Cynthia asks, and I nod my head when it hits me. Son of a bitch! I stand and move to the desk to grab my laptop. I open the lid and type away, and find pictures of Valentina with various socialites in New York, one being Curtis Black. I look at the time stamp and that picture was taken and posted eighteen months ago. That was when Cass was still with him. Surely Cass would have known who she was. She would have met her before. But then again, in this picture, Valentina had dark hair. She was a little bigger and wasn’t as tanned as she was now. It is like she has changed her style to grab my attention

His face grew a bit older with worried… or is it angry frown lines. I looked up to the stage watched Valentina walk up to the pole in the barest most sexy outfit I have ever seen on a woman before and that is saying a lot because not to brag but I have been living amongst sexy women since I was born. My mom used to work the pole, she was literally the Valentina of her own time… no wonder I have a bit of a soft spot for that bitch Valentina. “She is good, just sit back, relax and watch my friend.” I said to Diego with what I curated to be a harmless chuckle.

"Kieran, you can't do this. My dad saved your life. Don't you remember? I've liked you for 15 years. How can you treat me like that?" Valerie raised her hand and slapped Helen's already swollen face again. The gentlewoman, who had just been crying in her husband's arms, suddenly transformed into a different person. She said domineeringly, "Whether your father is a savior or an enemy to my husband, that's another story. If you dare to set your eyes on my man again, I'll gouge them out." Valerie became famous after attending the banquet. The first thing that came into people's minds when they mentioned Valerie was that she was the business tycoon's wife. Then, they would be reminded of her ter

Margret ended the call before the minute mark. Margret was one of the few people that knew her past. She understood Valery more than Jennifer or anyone else. Since preschool, they have been best friends, soulmates, partners in crime, and forever sisters. She was the only one who could paint out Valery's characteristics and nature with her eyes closed. 'Marge', as Valery liked to call her, lived alone in a self-compound with her black Maltese, Mimi. When work stole her friend, Valery found her way to Marge's wanted list. Having Valery at home after months made her a little nuts.

Yep, so now it should be easily distinguishable," I said flicking through pages looking for a sign of red. It wasn't until another hour later that I spotted the next red name. A girl named Elizabeth from the 1700s. I put my slight disappointment that it wasn't Milly aside and continued to search for another thirty minutes. "Max..." I said to my eldest cousin who had sloped back to the sofa. "I think I found her. Her full name is Millia right?" He nodded as he leant over my shoulder and looking to where I was pointing. "Millia Benedetta?" Max said reading the words on the page. "Her birthday, April 17th, 2007 AD, is right but why Benedetta and where is the rest of us?" "That's not your Dad,"

I said. "Why?" Maxwell asked. I wasn't expecting him to ask. I was expecting Clay to ask that question. I guess the whole warming thing had softened him. "That bitch is too much work. She is rude, arrogant and impossible to deal with. I can't deal with her shit. She also has a sense of entitlement. She didn't even say thank you for the stuff I got her. She is a grade-A bitch." I complained, and Clay began to laugh. "She is a Valkin Alpha's child, Lucian. What did you expect?" Maxwell said.

My rage at her betrayal fueled me—she’d learn what happened when you crossed Dante Moretti. Valeria walked in, with her eyes down, wearing a plain dress that hugged her curves. I stood, towering over her, letting my anger show. “You’re a filthy traitor,” I snapped, my voice cold and cutting. “You thought you could sneak around with Eduardo’s little toys, betray me?” Her eyes flashed with rage, but I didn’t let her speak. “Your vineyard, Valeria Vines—it’s yours again,” I said, watching her face twist in shock, her mouth dropping open.