Valerie Bertinelli Novels & Stories

Nobody backs down as we both glare at each other. But suddenly I get distracted by someone calling him from behind. "Sir, your morning coffee." Rita says cheerfully, with a ten-megawatt smile on her face. I look at her black stilettos, tight pencil skirt, fitting blouse with the first two buttons undone for ventilation. Then I look up to her face, again her lipstick is out of her lips. "Oh, Hi Ethan. How was your first day?" She asks me sweetly while cutely batting her fake eyelashes at me.

The call came through again, but I hesitated for a while before looking over the screen to see that my caller is no other person than my best friend, Nelly. "Hello, princess!". I heard her usual high-pitched melodious voice, that would have brought a smile on my face if not for the current situation. I manage to control my laboured breaths. "Hello, amor!' I replied with a fake Italian accent. We both giggled at my poor attempt. Mine, a little bit forceful "How's our famous model doing?". "I am doing well, heading over there to sign the contract". I beamed when I saw a busy road ahead, not too far from where I was driving.

The dimly lit room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with tension. “I know you. Valerie! Wife of billionaire Chris Malvins who was sent to prison ten years ago. You were in prison too, yourself. I know. What I don’t know is what exactly brings a stunning, sexy beauty like you to my domain …?” he asked, his voice low and measured.

"What kind of consultant?" Margaret's expression remained perfectly neutral. "Etiquette." Valeria nearly choked. "What?" "Etiquette training." The words sounded absurd. She stared at Margaret. Margaret stared back. Neither spoke. Finally, Valeria pointed at herself. "You're serious." "Very." Twenty minutes later, she found herself sitting across from a woman named Celeste Montgomery. Celeste looked like she had been born judging table manners. Everything about her was immaculate. Hair. Clothing.

The woman by my side was dark skinned and in a robe similar to mine, but hers had the name Valeria on the back of it, which I saw clearly as she bent forward to take a piece of chocolate cake from the tray. "Hi, Valeria, right? I'm guessing that's your name from the inscription on the back of your robe," I said, smiling politely at her. She turned to me, returning mine with a polite, dazzling smile of her own as she nodded, saying. "Yes, and you are" "Sabine Vitiello, I'm here on vacation." " Vitiello? You would not happen to be the wife of Dominic Vitiello, would you?" she asked, making my eyebrows shoot up.

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

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.”

Melissa what are you doing in there, I heard the princess Luciana calling out to me and I immediately swam out of the room. "Am sorry my princess I'm just arranging the room" I said to her and she rolled her eyes sitting down and ordering me to fix her hair. My name is Melissa and I'm a blued tail mermaid slave. I work in the palace as the princess Luciana's maid. I was taken in as a palace slave when my mother committed a crime. She fell in love with a human and got pregnant for the human an act which is a crime in Atlantica.

Every small movement against the ruined sheets sent sparks shooting through her overstimulated body. She should have locked the door. She should have cast every protective ward she knew. Instead, she picked up her phone with trembling fingers and sent another message. This time to Valeria. Valeria was different from Lena, taller, colder, a renowned rope artist and sadist who ran exclusive private sessions for the city’s most powerful women. She and Giselle had clashed many times, always with Giselle coming out on top. Valeria had never hidden her desire to one day see the arrogant witch on her knees.

Nia raised a glass “to girls who lived when everyone bet on us breaking.” Dima mumbled something about “terrible decisions that somehow worked out” and pretended dust got in his eye when Aria played a montage of embarrassingly early‑war Kael footage on a screen. Rivals lingered at the edges, faces carefully blank. Valeria—one of Kael’s earlier would‑be political matches—attended in a dress that could have cut glass. She caught Lys’s eye once across the room, raised her glass in a small, ironic salute, and turned away.