Vanitas X Jeanne Novels & Stories

Tall, dark red stilettos. She’s wearing a sating dress that clings onto her body perfectly, complemented by the dazzling jewelry around her neck and wrists. Her hair, her smile, her eyes, she looks incredible. I soon realise that she is not the woman I met last night. Something has changed, and her aura has shifted into something dangerous. Tristan’s body is still turned to me, but his eyes are fixed on Bella, with his lips slightly parted in awe. Her scent fills the room. “Miss Ward, please have a seat.”

The infected we saw earlier on staggered after us throwing thier hands at us as they come. In no time we got to the spot where I saw them yesterday and Joe together with Wayne went to a Mini-van parked by the side of the road and I guess that's our get away vehicle. Joe opened the bonnet trying to fix it with Wayne behind the wheels starting it at Joe's instructions.

I watched from the couch, confused, my mug of tea untouched and cold in my hand. The Woman who stepped in looked like someone who belonged on the cover of a luxury Magazine. Clipboard. Pearls. Glossy red Lips that curved with effortless command. “Good Afternoon,Mrs Johnson. I'm Vanessa, service manager of the Vogue gallery”. Mrs Johnson. The name still sounded foreign, like someone else's fairytale. Like something I had borrowed, not earned. Before I could react, She gave a polite nod and turned slightly towards the door.

His fists, clenched on his knees, tightened even more as he sat on the chair. “She is an engineer,” Vanessa went on, her voice thick with the poisonous hate of her plan. “ She plans bridges, towers, skyscrapers that are meant to be the mark of her power.” Vanessa began to move, her silk robes flowing about, the sound of her footsteps echoing off the huge window before her. “Just think, Tyler. Tyler, think of the headlines if one of her towering structures discovers a crack,” Vanessa said as the curve of her wicked smile on her face became more clear. “The headlines if one of her works is destroyed.”

We had gotten to the mansion and I could see Kevin standing, one hand in one pocket, cigarette in the other hand. He was wearing a tight blue jean this time around, but it was rugged. He wore a gray t-shirt and a black jacket, with his neck chain and now I noticed that he had a stud earring in one ear. He had on black high boots that were a perfect fit for his entire dark charisma. As we stopped at the mansion he wasted no time in walking towards me and he held the car door open for me in less than a second. He moved as fast as lightning, well of course, he is a vampire after all.

Dulling sharp edges of morning anxiety. Jaxon closed his eyes. Shoulders dropping from their defensive hunch. To the room, she was a Saintess. To the room, she was the cure. She finished on a soaring, crystalline high note. Lingering in the resonance-stone like perfume. Curtsied. Eyes darting toward the back of the room where a single figure sat in the shadows. "Exquisite." Vane murmured. More tired than impressed. "Miss Selene has offered us the sun. Does anyone care to offer the moon?"

Becoming someone new. Or maybe just becoming someone better than who she was. On the train, she watches New York disappear. The city where she tried to take down a billionaire’s girlfriend and ended up taking down herself. Poetic. Pathetic. Fitting. She opens her phone. Deletes I*******m. T*****r. All of it. Vanessa Hart, influencer, is dead. Maybe Vanessa Hart, human, can survive. She doesn’t know. But she has eighteen months to figure it out.

“You need a distraction. For the past six months I’ve seen you sink deeper and deeper into depression over a man that Vincent never deserved half the attention you gave him. You need to get over him once and for all. When was the last time that you had a man that made you feel alive? I mean, really alive?” “Vincent made me feel alive.”Jeanne whimpered weakly. “That’s not what I meant. When is the last time you actually had real actual sex with something that didn’t require batteries?” Laëtitia pushed. “That’s none of your business,” Jeanne said, feeling the heat in her cheeks. She had probably gone a deep shade of red. She was going to need another drink if the conversation continued to delv

She did not recognise the woman before her, Jennifer, who now carried herself with an air of greatness. Jennifer paused for a moment. Fortunately, she did not reveal her personal vendetta. The identity she used—Jennifer, Julian’s artist—was merely a camouflage, a strategy she had copied from a greater media conflict. She chose to conceal the bitter truth about herself: that she was Cassandra Vance, Julian’s secret lover who had been destroyed by the intrigues of the Rose Family years ago.

Chapter Seventy-Two: Beneath the Surface Vanessa tapped her long, polished nails on the wooden table of the quaint café she'd chosen for her meeting with Clara. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filtered through the air, mingling with the soft hum of murmurs around her. Clara was already running five minutes behind, but Vanessa wasn't bothered. It gave her time to strategize. This wasn’t just a casual catch-up—it was a carefully crafted move to uncover the truth about Noah and Stephanie.