Vanitas No Carte Characters Novels & Stories

Faced with this palm, Vivian Arnold sneered, didn't care at all, waiting for Brenna Abhaya's hand to fall on her head, suddenly, his grandfather's shock resounded, visible to the naked eye, a white light flower appeared, which was filled with the aura of endless Void Kill civilization, directly destroying the power of Brenna Abhaya. "Ha ha, Brenna, this Vivian Arnold is one of the important gambling cards I deal with Tadhg Walter, you can't move." A faint voice resounded, it was the voice of the Void Kill Emperor, which made Brenna Abhaya also change her face, and the next moment she quickly bowed to salute. "Yes, Void Kill Senior, it's me. emotion." "It's okay, next time it's fine if you do

Slowly… One name began writing itself across the page in shimmering silver ink. Charlotte Hartwell The man watched calmly. Then another. James Ashford Then… Darrien Vale He smiled. “So…” “They’ve accepted the bond.” The ink stopped. Four empty spaces remained. His smile slowly disappeared. Because beneath the three names… New words appeared. Words that had never been written before. The Broken Circle has chosen its vessel. The temperature in the chamber dropped instantly. For the first time in many years…

“You think tonight was your victory.” Her lips curled into a dark smile. “But this is only the beginning.” She picked up her phone and dialed a number. A rough voice answered. “Yes?” Vanessa’s voice turned cold. “I have a job for you.” There was a pause. “What kind of job?” Vanessa’s smile widened. “Someone needs to disappear.” Silence filled the line. Then the man asked quietly, “Who?” Vanessa’s eyes darkened. “Sylvie Hart.” And far below the mansion… In the quiet garden… Two glowing eyes were still watching the house. Waiting.

“But you’re certainly the plainest.” Calla didn’t flinch. “Still managed to steal your spotlight, though.” Vanessa’s jaw twitched. “Whatever game you think you’re playing, you won’t last,” she hissed. “You’re temporary. A distraction. A toy.” Calla stepped forward, closing the space between them. Her voice was quiet. Dangerous. “Funny. That’s exactly what Killian said about you.” Vanessa froze. Calla smiled, slow and deliberate. “Good evening, Vanessa.”

The wasteland twisted, reshaping underneath her feet. She becomes combating them in their very own language. And for the primary time—the Architects hesitated. One of them—a towering mass of liquid metallic and transferring equations—spoke. “Entity identified: Carter-Vanessa.” “Designation: Error. Correction required.” Vanessa’s eyes flashed. “Come and try.” The Architects Strike Back The international scene was blurred. Not like movement. Like the whole lot being rewritten at once. Rachel staggered. “I—I can’t—” Her face flickered.

"Let's pay our respect and greet the unwanted guest. It's only fair they know who we are firsthand." Vanessa walked ahead of the group and smirked as everyone made way for them like royalty. Still, she couldn't help but overhear a group of women talking at one of the tables. Scanning the room, she found the culprits, the Phantom Killers. Natalia Azar, Mel Brooks, Chanel Echo, and Soraya Summer. A four-member assassin group specializing in hocus-pocus attacks. Sleight of hand tricks. They've mastered manipulating and deceiving their enemies with the slightest influence. But, as simple as it may sound, it is tough to do. "I wonder who those girls are, especially the girl on the arm of our dear

“I’m so happy for you!” Matlena came next, placing a weathered hand on either side of Vanessa’s face. “Your path will not be easy, but your mate will be your strength when times are dark.” Vanessa couldn’t shake the feeling that Matlena knew more than she was saying. She turned to Brona, who quickly looked away. A knock on the door made them all turn. It was Nick . He looked dangerously handsome in a charcoal suit and tightly fitted white shirt. He smiled at Vanessa, then nodded to Matlena who came over to place her hands over his. “I am always right,” she stated without further explanation.

“I chose you. All the actions, all the deceptions, were to protect you. I pull away, and my voice is trembling. “No, Dante. You have decided that you would rather be guilty than trust me. He extends his hand to me, and I recede. “Carina—” “Don’t touch me.” The words are bitter like blood and remorse. The lightning strikes again and his face is white. He looks haunted. I believed she was going to go away forever, he mumbles. “But Vanessa doesn’t die. She multiplies. She waits.”

Smoke drifted from the turrets cigar smoke, not cannon fire and the faint echo of laughter carried across the dark sea. Inside, the hall smelled of rust, rum, and blood too old to be remembered. Men in silk suits and women with diamond daggers in their hair played at civility. Everyone here had killed someone to get a seat. Matteo’s hand brushed the small of her back as they entered, both wearing black no insignia, no crest, no trace of the Romanos. They were ghosts tonight. The Crimson Cartel’s leader, Don Javier del Sol, waited at the head of a long table carved from a single shipwreck plank. His smile was a slash of gold teeth. “Ah. The ghosts arrive. Tell me, do ghosts bleed?”

Vanessa’s POV Across the city, Vanessa Hart paced her apartment, anger simmering like acid. Her phone screen still glowed with the name: Evelyn Carter. She’d done her research. A waitress. A nobody. Drowning in debt. And now, thanks to Gregory Blackwood’s scheming, she was living in the mansion? About to carry Damian’s heir? Vanessa’s nails dug into her palms. No. That was supposed to be her. She was supposed to be in that position. She had worked too hard for that. She glanced at her vanity mirror, at the flawless reflection she had built like armor. She had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to be replaced by a girl who didn’t even know how to play the game.