Valerie Bertinelli Novels & Stories

The slight nervousness that overcame Valerie made her tone a brick. The flight attendant turned on the LCD screens attached to the front of the seats in each business class seat. Valerie's eyes focused on the woman who became the display model of the airline advertisement she was now riding, Veronica, her mother. Valerie's hand immediately gripped the fork in her hand tightly; fortunately, it was only an advertisement that quickly changed to a romance movie that she did not know the title of.

--- 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.

My younger sister Lia is dead. Everyone is convinced that I was an accomplice who helped her murderer take her life. Because I was the only person who knew the killer’s identity. Yet I chose to protect that person, keeping the truth buried and refusing to reveal it. My mother knelt at my feet, crying and begging me to tell her the killer’s name. But I merely turned my face away, expressionless, and refused to say a single word. The members of the family called me a sinner. They smashed down the iron door of my cell and stormed inside, intending to punish me themselves. Later, I was locked in the underground prison. Day after day of interrogation, torture, and confinement slowly consumed my b

Tall, dark red stilettos. She’s wearing a sating dress that clings onto her body perfectly, complemented by the dazzling jewelry around her neck and wrists. Her hair, her smile, her eyes, she looks incredible. I soon realise that she is not the woman I met last night. Something has changed, and her aura has shifted into something dangerous. Tristan’s body is still turned to me, but his eyes are fixed on Bella, with his lips slightly parted in awe. Her scent fills the room. “Miss Ward, please have a seat.”

Valerie zipped me into the emerald dress like she was preparing a weapon for battle. “Lipstick?” she asked. “Red,” I whispered. “Atta girl.” Sky poked his head in. “Camera crew’s here. Esther is making them all nervous.” “Good,” Valerie said. “They should be nervous. She’s got a gun in her purse and a taser in her bra.” I raised a brow. “How do you know that?” “I helped her pick the bra.” I laughed for the first time all morning. Valerie smiled, satisfied. “Brielle,” she said, adjusting a stray curl behind my ear, “you look like you could run the world.”

Who the hell was she really? By the time the night started winding down, Jerry was back. He tossed a folder on the table in front of me. “Basic info,” he said. “Name’s Valerie Quinn. Age twenty-eight. A lawyer—badass one, too. Recently won a high-profile case. Sent the ex-president’s son to jail for fraud and assault. Got the guy twenty years behind bars. She’s making headlines in the legal world.”

She no longer exists. Under the last line was a name he had never seen me write. [Elena Valenti] For a moment, Julian didn’t understand. Then the name hit him like a fist. Valenti. Anyone in New York knew the name. Old money whispered it. Politicians feared it. Cops pretended not to see it. It belonged to armored gates, private docks, and men who smiled before pulling the trigger. He sank into a chair, his face draining of color. He called my old number.

When I finally met her, I understood why Miles was so protective. Valeria was twenty-two, heartbreakingly beautiful in that delicate, ethereal way that made people want to shield her from the world. She had long dark hair that fell in natural waves past her shoulders, porcelain skin that looked like she'd never seen the sun, and these wide, innocent hazel eyes that seemed perpetually on the verge of tears. She was petite, almost fragile-looking, the kind of woman who made men instinctively want to protect her. She was also, I would later learn, a master manipulator who'd spent years perfecting the art of playing the victim.

She held her phone tight in her hand, scrolling until she landed on a contact she hadn’t called in nearly a decade: “Valeria Knox”. Once a best friend, then a distant memory. They had shared dreams, heartbreaks, and noodles in a cramped dorm during their fashion school days. But Valeria had veered off course — intentionally. She married a tech mogul, divorced him without scandal, and built a shadow empire that touched surveillance, cyber security, and elite-level crisis containment. She hadn’t designed a dress in years. But she could dismantle a man’s life with a keystroke. Juliette hesitated for only a second before tapping Call.

he asked to which Valerie replied with a simple nod. He could tell that she was nervous so instead of saying anything else, he pulled her into a hug and caressed her hair. It has been eight years since they last saw Shantala in Clanera City since they were sure that she moved to Estermouth City. But now that she was back, Chiavelli had to know the reason behind her return. "You should not worry, Valerie. You are on longer Tricia Vexmore, okay? You are now Valerie Wilburn, my wife and the love of my life. Nobody will recognize you except me," he whispered to her.