Vanessa Pens Novels & Stories

she whispered. Win raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” Vanessa leaned in closer, her voice turning low and seductive. “You always liked Victoria, right? I’ll let you sleep with her. In return, you delete every single video and image you have of me.” Win stared at her for a moment, then laughed. “That’s a good deal. But how do I know you’re not bluffing?” Vanessa reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. She held it up in front of his face.

After taking a shower Penelope was drying her hair with the towel. She had made chicken salad for dinner. She logged in to her I*******m and started scrolling while eating food. Her friend from Washington, Vanessa, had texted her. She used to work with her in the coffee shop back there. She replied to her and all the other pending text messages. After dinner, she put the bowl in the dishwasher and called her, and told her about the job. Vanessa had got a job too, in Washington. She was a major in English Literature. She had gotten a job as a writer in some publication company. She promised her that she would come and meet her as soon as possible.

"I am Veronica Vane. I am your one and only true Queen and Herald. No impostor can bring me down to the ground." I flew in front of Elspeth and whispered to her ear, "Even you, Elspeth… don’t have the capability to overpower me."

She knew she would jump into his bed with just a snap of his fingers. Castelo knew very well what she was thinking. Shuddering in disgust, he sped past her to his car. Of course, Ana, who thought she was irresistible to all men, didn't understand why Castelo wasn't falling at her feet. Damont sniffed the air. The smell, a sea breeze, wafted through the air, bringing relaxation to the nerves. Vinca had painstakingly created this fragrance and it was for her personal use and refused to produce it for sale.

“It’s not that simple. Connections take time, and I’m still—” Vanessa tossed up her hands. “Still figuring yourself out?” Her voice was sharp presently, filled with pent-up feeling. “How long are you going to keep ‘figuring things out,’ Haven? Months? A long time? I’ve contributed so much of myself to us, but I can’t keep doing this speculating amusement where I’m never sure where I stand.”

“Come on. You can tell me on the way how its going to piss him off. We are doing this but doing it my way.” She already felt light headed, fluttering excitement in her belly at being effective on holding out her own against Noah Abel, the big dark wolf who crushed her and freed her with one touch. “Stop thinking about him. And focus.” If anyone could feel the acid in Evan’s voice right now, they’d rehash their beliefs about him. But all Vanessa did was murmur a quick apology. “How do you know I was thinking about him?” Was Evan's mind linking to her without her knowing.

Pedro ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “You think hurting people will make the pain disappear?” “No,” Vanessa answered honestly. “It will simply make them suffer with me.” The calmness in her voice unsettled him. This wasn’t anger anymore. It was something darker. Something colder. Vanessa slowly wheeled toward the small drawer beside the bed and opened it. Inside rested: fake passports, cash, a gun, and several documents. Pedro froze. “You’ve been planning this for a while.” Vanessa picked up the passport carefully.

She gasped, showing them the vail. “That is not possible I gave them to him myself!”. Enzo murmured, staring at the portion in Vanessa's hand. “Fuck!”. She murmured frustratedly, running her hands through her hair. “This is bad!”. She added.

★。＼｜／。★ VANESSA DAVIS ★。／｜＼。★ I barely flinched at Alina’s venom. Her words tried to claw beneath my skin, but I didn’t let them. I kept writing, scribbling lies wrapped in truth as she unraveled herself across the living room. Her voice had become sharper, brittle and cutting, like a thread stretched too thin.

Vanessa’s POV The penthouse looked almost cinematic under the dim evening light. Everything looked perfect, and controlled. Exactly how she wanted it. Vanessa had changed into a soft cream coloured nightgown that draped elegantly over her curves. She unpinned her hair so that it fell naturally over her shoulders, and her makeup was minimal, just enough to look fragile, flushed, and human. She sat on the couch, one arm wrapped protectively around her belly, the other clutching a glass of water. Every few seconds, she drew a shallow breath, eyes half-closed as if in pain.