Valerie Cossette の小説・ストーリー

Before either of them could speak, the sharp, secure chime of the private elevator echoed through the penthouse foyer. Adrien didn't turn around. He simply narrowed his eyes, watching the private lift doors slide open to reveal a figure stepping out into the dim light someone unexpected, carrying a sealed manila folder and wearing an expression of cold, calculated ambition. It was a new face in the high stakes game: Valerie Cross, a brilliant, ruthless forensic accountant who had spent the last five years auditing corporate fraud in Geneva before quietly relocating back to the city with a personal vendetta against the Vance family. Valerie stepped out of the elevator, her sharp heels clickin

"Aunt Valerie, if I may speak, you shouldn't doubt yourself. My Uncle and grandmother both know your true talent. Vance Jewels only managed to pull off their launch because they built it on your back. It is time you claim what is yours." Valerie felt a faint warmth bloom in her chest. "Thank you, Philip... I never even got the chance to properly thank you for speaking up for me back there in the penthouse last night." She paused, a small crease forming on her brow as she looked back at Killian. "Though... I was meaning to ask. Isn't Victoria your sister-in-law? Why was she acting as if Madam Genevieve was her own mother at the table?"

I climbed onto the rock and stood beside her, following her gaze across the valley below. What if you don’t have to fight? You know Cato is his mother’s son right? On the surface of it, he’s a lot like Alpha Loren, but deep down, he has the Luna’s values. Things will improve after December 20th. She set her marvellous amber eyes on mine. Can you promise that?

It was a very huge store, with a million dresses, it smelt of fresh roses and pastry. “good day ladies” a tall lady greeted us the moment we walked into the store, she wore a suit and had a pair of spectacles hanging off her nose. “Miss Romero” she added with a smile. “and you must be miss Santiago, Romans fiance”. I smiled at her. It was funny though that her store was named after my fathers name.

Anything to take the emphasis away from my sheer embarrassment. "I'm Genie". I can't even look him in the eye, let alone believe that he's sitting next to me and talking to me. "Nice name - what's it short for?". "It's Genevieve". I mumble. "Wow, not a name you hear often. I like it! So now we're acquainted can I buy you a drink?". He asks. Reluctantly I agree " Ok, a Guinness would be good. But just to clarify, It's not normally something I would do".

Valerie looked down at her feet, not having an answer to it. “You don't get to talk to my pack members this way, Scarlet,” I said. She really needs to be put in her place. I ran my eyes over her look. She was wearing a spaghetti black dress with a very deep neckline that did nothing to hide her breast and left very little to imagination. A slit ran along the mid of her thigh to the end of the dress and she tied the look up with matching heels. She definitely wanted attention today. And I would hate to say it, but she definitely would get it. “I just came to witness Xavier's mistake. I wanted to know over what piece of trash was he ready to give up on real gold.” Valerie gasped at her harsh w

Alexis said still smiling. “It is so easy for me to spot you, no matter your facade.” Jude said once again. Alexis was dressed in a sundress gown, the sundress had the pattern of flower, and the background was white, she also wore a sunhat on her head too, on her lips were black, she clearly had painted black, a little touch of mascara was also on her eyelids too, her eyelashes were also black too, she must have use a black lead on them.

Her handshake is warm, slightly damp—the touch of someone who still believes in the light of smiles. Camille Victoire Laurent. Twenty-five years old. Design assistant. Spoiled only daughter. Diamond piercing on her right nipple. Secret account where she posts artistic photos. The habit of showing up at after-parties wearing Maison pieces... and nothing underneath. The dossier Yakov gave me is complete—photos, schedules, even her cat's name (Marco, a white Persian). The badge hanging around her neck is merely confirmation. Of course my brothers provided me with complete dossiers on every Maison employee, from the interns to the CEO himself.

The excess hair, which is never seen down but is kept for the sake of her womanhood, hangs in a ponytail down to the centre of her back. She is not an unattractive woman; she just looks harsh, her hair dyed peroxide blonde (she is supposed to be a brunette but the dyeing has been done so well that an observer would never know for sure) and the dark suit she wears – not like the kind that David and his two visitors wear but that power suit that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the bitch role in a television show.

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?"