Vanna Grace Novels & Stories

Grace asked, masking her true behaviour in front of her husband. “ She will. The school will teach her so many lessons and lessen her pride.” Gamma Levi said and stormed off to Nicki's room. Grace's lips curved into an evil smirk and her eyes glittered with mischievousness. “ This is just the beginning, Nicki Bernardo. I will make your life miserable.” She clicked her tongue and sat down on the cushion, watching her favourite TV series. Nicki began to take off her clothes in front of her dressing mirror. Her fair skin was covered in bruises and red marks due to her father's excessive beating.

Mrs Angela said, smiling gleefully. Tracy Molly turned, her radiant smile beaming as she showcased an effortless grace. Her poised demeanour was matched only by her stunning appearance. Her dress flowed elegantly around her, accentuating her feminine assets. Wade's eyes widened slightly in surprise as Tracy approached the table, her gaze meeting his. His mother, Mrs Angela, looked triumphant, clearly pleased with Tracy's grand entrance. "Isn't she beautiful, Wade?" Mrs Angela asked, her voice tinged with an air of assurance.

But she was a much better daughter than Ayana ever was! Grace's resentment towards her sister Ayana had roots that ran deep, stemming from a childhood overshadowed by familial expectations and sibling rivalry. While Ayana had always been the rebellious one, pursuing her passion for art and painting despite their family's hopes for her to join the business empire, Grace had taken a different path. She had studied business, not out of genuine interest but as a means to prove herself worthy in the eyes of their parents. For Grace, business acumen was her ticket to validation, her way of demonstrating her commitment to the family legacy and securing her place within the De’Mario empire.

“Ten seconds.” Grace opened her eyes. The red light blinked on. “Good evening,” the anchor began smoothly, turning to face the camera. “Tonight, we speak with Grace Hayes—businesswoman, shareholder in the Hayes Group, and daughter of the late executive Mara Lin, whose legacy has recently come under public scrutiny.” Grace inhaled once—slow, deliberate—and then spoke. “My mother was not late,” she said calmly. “She was silenced.” The words landed like a stone dropped into still water.

Liam was strumming a guitar, playing something quiet and folk-like. And Grace. Grace was nineteen. She was the youngest, the surprise, the miracle born after the war was supposedly over. She stood up. She was wearing a simple white dress, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She held a glass of sparkling water. "One more toast," Grace said. Her voice was soft, but it carried the same quiet authority that Aria had developed over decades. "We're out of cider," Theo noted sleepily from his chair. "I don't need cider," Grace said. "I just need you to listen."

All except one. A face that glared at me with a conceited smile. She had waited for this moment, she had waited to look me in the eyes with a calculative stare. Shania, drapes in a red polkadot gown and a black cashmere trenchcoat hanging over her shoulders. She let her ginger hair fall over shoulder with a braid at the two ends of her frontal. “Finally, we thought you were gonna have to cancel this meeting,” She smiled as though our argument yesterday never happened, like this was the first time we were speaking in months.

My assistant’s name appeared on the screen. Nina: Morning, boss. Reminder: 10:30 call with Gracie Marie’s team. Wedding inquiry. Nina: Big budget. Very big. Like, “make vendors cry happy tears” big. I stared at the message while drinking my coffee. Gracie Marie. Model. Viral. Blonde. Beautiful in a way that made skincare brands sound like religion. I had seen her face on billboards along Sunset Boulevard, in perfume campaigns, at parties I did not want to attend but had to.

Ananya pov. I was dressed up in a pink gown with my hair tied up in a low bun, a few strands of hair brushing my face that were left intentionally. The gown was floor length and it was a half meter extra long from behind clearly sweeping the floor. The top hugged my body beautifully it was a tight fit that made my curves visible, and the straps were a little thin so my tattoo was clearly visible. A bracelet adorned my wrist and I fiddled my pendant, it was actually the letter A. And no I was not one of those girls who were obssessed with their names, the A stood for Anahita, my birth mom. I knew she would have been so happy if she was here, but at least I could have something that made me f

It was good because no one would find out who she was soon. Grace worked so hard all her life as an editor, crawling all the way to the top as the chief editor of a glossy magazine firm. She had appeared in the magazine herself a lot of times, but she doubted anyone here w would engross their time in reading magazines like that. Even if a few of them did, they wouldn't recognize her with her hair dyed jet back from the natural blonde color she had, and from wavy to straight.

I sit on the bed next to her and she wraps her arms around my waist in a tight hug. “Grace, I know this is hard, but you need to be brave now. Can you tell us what happened?” Adrian asks gently as he sits down on Grace’s other side. Sitting between us, safe in her bed, Grace takes a breath as though fortifying herself. Then so softly I almost don’t hear it, she says, “The blonde lady from the pack, the mean one, Vanessa, she took me away.” Why am I not surprised? That woman knows no shame. I clutched Grace a little tighter.