Veronica Seider Novels & Stories

But now? Now he was silent. Detached. And she hated it. Suddenly the doors opened, and Veronica Sinclair walked in. Tall. Elegant. Ridiculously beautiful. She was one of Black Enterprises’ long-time clients, a luxury investor from London who clearly had an interest in more than just business. And if the tabloids were to be believed, one of the many women who had once graced his bed. Veronica’s heels clicked against the marble floor as she approached Adrian, her red lips curving into a knowing smile. “Adrian,” she purred, extending a hand. “Always a pleasure.”

she sniffed. The way she spoke about Elara's family made my wolf bristle. "So you attacked a child to lure his mother here? That's your grand plan?" "I didn't attack anyone," Veronica snapped. "Though I'm not surprised Caleb would claim that. Silver-contaminated omegas are known liars." She looked me up and down, her lip curling. "He's probably contaminated this female too." Without warning, I swung my leg in a perfect roundhouse kick, catching her squarely in the chest. She flew backward, hitting the wall with a satisfying thud before sliding to the floor.

“You mean I look older.” “I mean you look like someone who’s survived,” Sandra corrected quietly. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unsaid things. Sandra gestured to the two leather chairs across from her desk. “Sit. Please.” Veronica sat. The chair was impossibly comfortable. She hated how small it made her feel. Sandra took the seat opposite, crossing long legs. “Why now? After all these years?” Veronica met her gaze. “Because I’m tired of waiting for my life to begin.”

But just let him try to make something of it, Veronica decided fiercely as, having had her shower, she changed into a long silky black jersey dress, brushing her hair and quickly re-doing her make-up before checking the time. Almost eight-thirty. Taking a deep breath, she checked her appearance in the mirror and then, holding her head high, headed for the bedroom door. Her jersey dress, plain black and unadorned, might not reveal the fact that it had cost her the best part of a month’s wages and carried the label of one of New York’s top designers, but it was showing her every delicious curve… No space for imagination. The way Sasha looked when Veronica saw him waiting for her at the bottom

It's always the shy ones you need to look out for. "Oh my god, how can she show her face?" Celestrina mutters. "Who? I ask, curious. "Veronica St Martin. That loner, sitting on her own over there. Rumour has it she tried to seduce Ryker Gibson, but his girlfriend Delilah walked in so posted her nudes around the school, and told everyone about her nasty case of vaginal warts. Nobody will go within ten feet of her." Celestrina shakes her head, and I feel slightly sorry for the girl. Cheating is never right, but to absolutely ruin someone's life is plain nasty.

Here he was: having just been in bed with a hot, drop-dead gorgeous woman who seemed quite smitten with him, but, instead of basking in the moment, he was whiling the night away fantasizing about his ex. Great. Just great. "Cracking job, Théo. This'll surely end well." A fairly raspy voice soon drew him out of his thoughts. He lifted his head and met a bleary pair of hazel eyes. "I think I'm about to have a psychotic break," Veronica mumbled. Her slim forearms rested on the desk where she'd placed her laptop. "Why?" Théo tilted back his laptop's screen to get rid of the glare. An oversized denim jacket, which she'd left unbuttoned, covered her tank top. Subtle curls thickened her hair that

"She is yet to wake up. But according to the marks on her body, she has been under abuse for a long time. Others were still fresh." "It's like she had been whipped for a good number **of** years." The doctor said. "Do your best to make sure that she wakes up as soon as possible," Ashton said. "Yes, Alpha. We will do our best." Ashton waved his hand and walked towards the study room. Theo was following him. "What did you find out from your investigation?" "The girl's name is Maya Brown. She was saved by Mark Syden, the now alpha of wind winders pack." "What did you say her name was?" Ashton asked. He felt like he was hearing things.

Her gaze moved from one face to the next. They were women. And men. Some young, some older. All familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place. Damien stepped beside her. "Veronica Hale’s real legacy isn’t power. It’s damage. These are survivors. Of her silencing. Her coercion. Her sabotage." One woman stood. Early thirties. Red hair pulled into a tight bun. "Celeste. I’m Nadia. I was a model. Veronica tanked my career because I said no to one of her partners. I watched everything I built vanish."

She leaned against him and even though It meant nothing to her as at then, it meant everything to him. That moment carved itself into his mind. Years later Adrian is no longer the quiet boy no one noticed. He’s rich, brilliant and not the same awkward kid anymore.. And most importantly he never stopped thinking about her. VERONICA’S PROFILE Veronica Hawthorne Our thirty eight years old milf, she’s an interior designer who’s just trying to get her bearings after her messy divorce. Veronica recently returned back to town after her humiliating divorce. Her husband left her for a younger woman and now she’s just trying to rebuild her life while dealing with gossip and judgment.

she responded. "So, is it you?" a sarcastic voice sounded in the background. Veronica felt uncomfortable by the voice and glanced at the right side and saw a woman in high heels walking towards them. Sheira has a fierce on her face as she stared closer at Sheira. She wasn't sure if Veronica was Blake's girlfriend but she already assumed it. Sheira stopped right in front of them and stared at Veronica from head to toe, scanning her looks and clothing style. She was upset for she felt like she was more than Veronica. She didn't find Veronica as beautiful as her.