Novel & Cerita Vanessa Redgrave And Franco Nero

“You always say that.” “Because it’s always true.” We move through the crowd together giving polite smiles, shallow conversations, the rhythm of business wrapped in champagne. For once, the whispers that follow us don’t sound cruel. Until her voice cuts through the air. “Well, isn’t this domestic bliss at its finest?” I freeze. Damian turns before I do. Vanessa stands a few feet away, dressed in red, the kind of red that means war. Her hair gleams under the chandelier, smile sharp enough to cut glass.

She knows. Damian is losing his grip. “Interesting, isn’t it?” Celeste murmurs beside me, her phone glowing with fresh intel. “She’s pushing him now, pressing where it hurts. He doesn’t even realize how fragile he is.” I glance at Celeste’s screen. A bank transaction, hidden under layers of offshore accounts. The recipient’s name makes my stomach twist. “Are you sure this is her?” I ask, my voice low. “Positive,” Celeste replies. “Vanessa has been moving money to someone who used to work under Damian. And not just anyone.” She taps the screen. “Meet Elias Grant.”

“Because you deserve the world, Grace.” Adrian and Grace were oblivious to the shadow that loomed over their paradise. Vanessa, unrepentant and consumed by bitterness, had tracked them to Diani. Her twisted plan was set in motion: she would drug Adrian, fake a night of intimacy with him, and leak the scandalous footage to the public. It was her desperate attempt to ruin his life and reclaim what she believed was hers. Vanessa checked into a nearby resort, blending seamlessly with other tourists. She had spent weeks planning her move, meticulously crafting every detail. Armed with a potent sedative and the latest camera equipment, she waited for the perfect moment to strike.

"Camera is not good for new born babies... Tell him to call after eighteen years..." He said. Grace slapped his arm. "Don't be mean..." She pushed him aside and showed her babies to Vlad. Vlad smiled looking at the babies. "They are so cute, Grace." Vera exclaimed. "Aren't they?... I am in love with them." Grace chuckled. "Finally Russian blood mixed with Italian... What you gonna do about it, Marino..." Vlad mocked Dominick. "Who told you Grace is Russian?" Dom replied with arrogance. "Yeah, okay guys... I need to rest. I'll call you later Vera..."

My cold mask was locked so tight my jaw ached. The stairs lowered, and there she was. Vanessa Romanov didn’t just walk, she colonized the space around her. She was draped in a cream colored power suit that screamed of old money and new blood. Her platinum hair was pulled back into a bun so tight it looked painful, highlighting the predatory sharpness of her cheekbones.

Murmurs rippled through the group. "He's telling the truth," Kyle said quietly beside Natzy. She turned to him. "What?" "He's a genius," Kyle said, his gaze fixed on Naro. "He sees patterns most people don't." "A game?" Natzy repeated, skeptical. "VEDRAH is a trial ground," Kyle said. "We're judged here. Hunted by what we've done. The worst of what we are." Natzy's chest tightened. 'Hunted by my crimes.' The words echoed in her mind.

"I've already forgiven you, Vanessa. So, why don't we let bygones be bygones?" I gazed at her in silence, recalling what had happened a year ago. The Giovanni family had hosted a charity banquet that night. Vivianne had gone onstage to play the piano while I stood by Matteo. He had then publicly announced that he was going to fund Vivianne's art project. When Matteo personally put that pink diamond necklace on Vivanne's neck, the media journalists had taken countless pictures. It made headlines with the title "Is Vivianne Sadler Seducing Her Own Future-Brother-In-Law?".

He looked like an accountant for the fucking afterlife. "Vane," I rasped, my throat bone – dry. "The Queen herself," Vane murmured, stepping into the harsh light. He held a small, silver remote control in his hand. "Franco is a pathetic sentimentalist. He fell in love with your little 'evolution.' He saw a woman breaking his game and thought it was beautiful. I see it as a structural failure. A game that can be mastered is a game that is broken."

But beneath that softness lived the same man who once burned his own wedding contract. “You’re quiet,” he said. “Just watching them.” “You always do when something’s about to change.” Before I could answer, Vanessa appeared, radiant in a white pantsuit that clashed beautifully with her signature dark lipstick. She grabbed the mic from the DJ and tapped it twice. “Alright, people! Before we all go back to eating enough sugar to kill a cow,” she grinned, “I have an announcement!” Adrian groaned. I smirked. “I said yes!” Vanessa yelled, flashing a diamond the size of a grape.