Victoria: A Novel Novels & Stories

And with it, the fragile possibility of healing, for both of us, lay somewhere in the desolate landscape of what remained. It wasn't just about Earnest, not entirely. The full scope of Victoria's obsession unfurled with a chilling clarity, revealing a tapestry woven with threads of possessiveness, a deep-seated insecurity, and a twisted sense of entitlement that had been festering for years. The photograph, the one of a younger Earnest beaming, trophy in hand, with Victoria’s arm possessively slung around him, was more than just a relic of their childhood friendship. It was a snapshot of a perceived victory, a moment she had etched into her memory as the beginning of her claim. She saw Earne

She moved to stand beside Camille, tall and straight as always, but with a softness in her eyes few ever witnessed. "Twenty two months ago," Victoria began, "I found a young woman who had lost everything. Her marriage. Her family. Her sense of self." The room grew utterly still. Victoria rarely spoke of that night, of how she and Camille had come together. "What struck me then was not her pain, though it was considerable. Not her loss, though it was great." Victoria's gaze swept the room before returning to Camille's face. "What struck me was her fire. Her refusal to be extinguished."

‎But now someone more dangerous was coming for her. ‎And there was nothing she could do to stop it. ‎"Do you get it?" Victoria asked. She knelt down right in front of me. "while she was busy getting revenge on us, she walked straight into a trap?" ‎"Yes," I whispered. ‎Victoria kissed me then and it was wild and hungry like she was feeding on the satisfaction of knowing that Sarah's victory was about to crumble to dust. ‎I kissed her back hard. We stood up and moved to the bedroom, tearing at each other's clothes.

I sighed holding her closer to my body and before I knew it, I ended up falling asleep as well. *** A small whine woke me up, I looked at Victoria, checking her temperature and to my surprise, she was burning up, her body was so hot, hotter than a heater. What the--- why was she burning up when I'm here with her? A loud scream erupted from her mouth and a sound of breaking bones echoed through the room. she's shifting! Fuck fuck she's shifting! "Ahhh!" she screamed again and without wasting time, I picked her up rushing her down stairs, her room wasn't big and she needed to shift on wide open space preferably outside.

She leaned toward the nightstand, stubbed the cigarette out against the ashtray with a slow, deliberate twist, then let her hand rest there. I could feel her eyes on me without looking. Steady, sharp, following every movement as I fastened my clothes, as if she were weighing each breath, waiting for the moment my guard slipped. “Melany managed to win even you over, Dominic,” Victoria said at last. Her voice was calm, almost idle, but her fingers traced slow patterns on the sheets as she spoke. “I remember how pathetic you looked when you tried to stop them from burning her. She rejected you as a mate, remember?”

Victoria Langford. A slim black trench coat, blonde hair pinched in, and a face made of solidified ice as she stepped into the dimness of stifled dock lights. Juniper ingested the terror that was gripping her throat.'". “You sent the note.”. Victoria smirked. “You came alone. How noble.”. Juniper leaned back. "You have to give me something to say.". With her heels racing against the stump, Victoria circled around. Aren't you the hero of this tale, too?

Damian stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in his study, watching the city drown itself in the late afternoon haze. The light softened the edges of the skyline, and for a moment he allowed himself to breathe like someone who had been under water and finally found air. But the calm lasted only a heartbeat—contracts, council demands, and hospital holds hovered like a storm front just beyond the glass. Victoria entered without announcing herself, the soft click of her heels a familiar punctuation. She moved with the effortless confidence of someone who knew how to read rooms and to place herself exactly where influence would settle.

Chapter 10: Ghosts in the Sheets The afterglow lingered like smoke in the air. Damien’s heavy body still covered mine on the wide sectional, his cock softening inside me while his cum slowly leaked out onto the leather beneath us. My fingers traced lazy patterns over the hard ridges of his abs, both of us breathing in sync. For a moment it felt almost peaceful. But the peace never lasted long with us. I tilted my head up, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You told me about Victoria… but I know there was someone after her. I heard rumors at the gallery once. A woman named Maya.”

Forty-eight hours from now, walking through the same streets, breathing the same air, staying in the same hotel where I carried an unconscious woman down three flights of stairs six hours ago. Victoria is many things. Careless is not one of them. She reads rooms the way I read contracts. One off-schedule car ride. One name she doesn't recognize on a receipt. One shift in my breathing when we pass a neighborhood I have no business knowing. That's all it would take. She'd pull the thread, and she'd pull it all the way. And behind Victoria, always, is Conrad. I lean against the railing. The metal is freezing through my sleeves. Below, Seattle's streetlights blur into the snowfall, soft and indi

"This isn't about money or shares. This is about control. One last play." Victoria's eyes met mine, a flicker of respect visible. "It's about protection. The world isn't kind to women without power. I learned that the hard way." She glanced at Catherine. "We both did." For the first time, I saw beyond Victoria's polished veneer to the scared young woman who'd married into wealth to escape poverty, who'd protected that security with ruthless determination. Not forgivable, perhaps, but suddenly comprehensible. Before I could respond, a sharp pain lanced through my abdomen, stealing my breath. I gasped, clutching my belly.