Vanitas X Jeanne Novels & Stories

He just glared at the screen, fists clenched. I traced his gaze to the screen, my stomach knotting into dread at the second name that followed. Sinclair V. “Vanessa?” I asked, my breath trembling. “No,” Xavier said quietly. “Vivien, her mother.” I blinked, all the more confused. “Isn’t she supposed to be dead, or something like that?” I asked, my voice not betraying my surprise. “She died when we were in college. Allegedly a stroke, but now – now I am not so sure.”

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.

The door slammed shut with metallic finality, muffling the distant music to a faint, mocking throb. Pain radiated through my hands and knees, but the real wound was the humiliation—burning, searing. Laughter drifted from the deeper shadows near the dumpsters. Vanessa emerged slowly, cigarette glowing between her manicured fingers, the tip flaring orange as she inhaled. She was dressed in sleek black that blended seamlessly with the night, her expression a perfect blend of amusement and cold contempt. “Rough night,” she said smoothly, exhaling a thin stream of smoke that curled in the chill air.

Arthur shouted all sorts of profanity against him, vowing to kick him out of Round Ten. “Is she worth it?” Vanessa asked him, her smudged mascara and foundation left black lines from her eyes to her chin. At that point, it was hard to take her seriously. Suddenly, Jin realized he had never seen Vanessa without thick makeup. He wondered if he would recognize her at all without the powder foundation, fake lashes and ruby red lips. “Excuse me?” he asked. “Julianne Sanders,” Vanessa said. “Is she worth losing your standing in Round Ten?”

He drove through the gates and followed the van to the steps leading up to the mansion door. He turned to his companion, "You know how I said I had something to do? Well, that something is burying a dead body. You're welcome to help me bury it or you can stay in the living room." He then got out of his car and approached the delivery van. He then signed for the coffin and had it placed on the steps. Afterward, he watched as they drove away. He turned back to his car to put away his purchases when he found someone beat him to it… That someone being Danielle, he smiled at her and unlocked the door to the mansion.

LADY BIANCA The cold morning air has a way of making me feel so good as I stood by the window, staring down at the courtyard. The sky was dull with clouds, mourning as if it, too, knew things were shifting inside this house. I watched as Tristan and that girl, Vanessa , stepped out of his office , side by side, heads low in quiet conversation. He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. The kind of gesture no man makes unless he’s already surrendered his heart.

His words punched me in the gut but I stood firm and unyielding. “You have been blinded by your emotions,” Vanessa interjected. “She’s manipulating you, Xander. Can’t you see it? She’s using the bond— whatever it is, to control you.” My jaw tightened as I turned to look at her. “The only person manipulating me— or trying to, is you Vanessa. You have been waiting for an opportunity like this to tear her apart, haven't you? But I won't let you succeed. Now now or ever.”

I followed the sound and saw a faded tent standing crookedly by the roadside. The canvas was worn and sun-bleached, the letters painted across it uneven and garish. “Mysterious Creatures of the Northern Night.” A traveling circus. I had no intention of stopping. But then, at the edge of the crowd, I saw Elara. She was dressed in a cheap stage costume, the fabric thin and overstretched, its dark colors dulled by constant exposure to sunlight. Her skin was unnaturally pale, hastily concealed beneath layers of heavy makeup that couldn’t quite hide the damage beneath.