Vanessa Blank Novels & Stories

“You handled it well.” She nodded, though her thoughts were racing. Miranda didn’t hate her. Miranda didn’t blame her. Miranda simply protected her son. And in a strange way… Vanessa respected her even more for it. That evening, Vanessa sat in the living room with her phone mounted on a stand. No filters. No glam makeup. No expensive backdrops. Just the truth. She hit the record icon. The camera blinked to life. And she began. “Hello everyone… This is Vanessa. I want to address the circulating photos and clear the air.”

You cry and cry until you're numb, until your eyes don't have anything to give. Then comes the blaming, you find something to blame because it makes you feel better, you blame the person for dying, you blame the person responsible or the sickness responsible. You blame the universe and everyone. What hurts the most is self-blame. You blame yourself for not looking carefully, for not defending, and for not being there or being strong enough. Self Blame is a bitch. So yeah, I understand where Jackson is coming from. “Ashanti?" My eyes snap up to his, he's waiting for my answer. His eyes are full of concern. Fuck that.

“All I ask is one thing, let me protect you” ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ It’s pretty obvious that Vanessa is not the gentle, meek type. She can be blunt when she wants to be gentle at some other times too.

Evelyn telepathed. "I'm not running, but flying. Besides, when have I been an angel?" Vanessa laughed and also took the time to enjoy the view before her. It was just so beautiful and overwhelming. She could fly and enjoy such a good view with the wind caressing her skin. Evelyn also enjoyed the beautiful view below them before recalling her mission. That man (Jack Reynolds) wasn't a paper tiger. She didn't want any harm to come to her friend all in the name of saving Lisa. Besides, Vanessa chose the Art class back in high school and knew nothing about medicine. So, what was this anxiousness to save Lisa, when top medical experts were there? She just couldn't understand.

“What is going on? It's been more than a month and I don't remember anything, time is passing and I'm left behind wondering when next I will open my eyes and see myself a week away from now” He waved his hands in the air. “It's okay, step into my office,” he said as he led me towards his office.” “What is happening?” I asked as I sat before him. “Something incredible, your body, you are sharing it with a woman, Vannessa” My brow furrowed. “What do you mean ‘Share?’” He leaned forward. “Vannessa Blake had an accident two months ago that almost claimed her life, fortunately for her she woke back up, but….in your body”

’ ‘Who—’ He glanced up, and the glee vanished. Vanessa stepped through the entrance, wearing an all-white suit that made her look like a ghost. Her blonde hair was scraped back, her skin pale enough to make an undertaker proud, and—because subtlety was never her strong suit—there was a bloodstained bandage wrapped around her left wrist. Well. That answered the question of whether my social media post had worked. ‘Christ,’ Cary muttered beside me. His entire body stiffened. ‘What the hell is she doing here?’

She was in Rome. And I was standing in a gala looking at a woman who wasn’t her and feeling, in the clarifying aftermath of that mistaken recognition, the specific quality of something that had finished. Not painfully. Just completely. I turned back to the room. Vanessa found me forty minutes later. The actual Vanessa, who appeared on my phone at ten fifty with a message that told me she’d seen the coverage from Rome and had something she needed to say. I stepped outside. She called immediately. “I saw it,” she said. “The thread. Ryan Blake.”

The tears kept coming, and she felt her shoulders shaking with sobs. Chantelle took a few more deep breaths, trying to steady herself. She knew she had to keep going, had to get through this day and then figure out a way to escape from this place. She turned on the vacuum cleaner and started working on the living room, trying to lose herself in the repetitive motions. But the work only seemed to make her more upset, and she had to stop several times to wipe away the tears that kept coming. Finally, she was done vacuuming, and she moved on to mopping the kitchen floor. It was slow, tedious work, and it seemed to take forever. But at last she was done with everything including cooking. She loo

"Welcome back to Chicago. We’re thrilled to have you here for the gala." "Thank you," Vanessa said, her gaze drilling into mine, entirely unbothered by Marcus and Olivia watching us. Her mind was clearly working at a furious pace. She wasn't just surprised to see me, she looked deeply unsettled that I was working this close to the franchise. This close to Aaron. "I must admit, Marcus, I was surprised to hear you hired from outside the sports market. But I’m sure Ms. Hayes brings a... unique perspective to the Blizzard." "She’s a powerhouse, Vanessa," Marcus said, entirely oblivious to the subtext.

The butler appeared almost immediately, his face carefully blank despite the scene. “Get tea,” I said. “And something warm to eat.” “Yes, sir.” Vanessa sat on the edge of the sofa like she expected someone to drag her away from it. Her hands were trembling. Her coat was soaked through. I took it from her shoulders and draped it over a nearby chair. “Tell me what happened.” She tried to speak, but another sob came out first. I gave her time. Vanessa Reed had once been one of the sharpest people I had ever known. Back in college, she had wanted to be a journalist. Not the glamorous kind who asked celebrities about skincare, but the dangerous kind who chased corruption and exposed powerful men.