Victorious Miranda Sings Novels & Stories

“You’ve got nothing to discuss here, get out. Leave now.” Miranda tilted her head, eyes sharp, like a predator sizing up her prey. “I’m not leaving until I’ve made my point clear,” she said, voice low and dangerous. Izzy’s breath caught in her throat. She looked between Maya and Miranda, panic and determination warring inside her. “I suspected this the moment I heard about your little hospital trip,” Miranda said, stepping closer, eyes narrowed and cold. “When I got the call to confirm my suspicion… I laughed. Truly, Ms. Hart… what a whore you are.”

“Nadia, we need to talk.” Nadia raised an eyebrow, setting her cup down. “What’s this about?” Miranda strode over, placing her tablet on the table and tapping the screen. A series of documents appeared, neatly organized, each bearing Nadia’s name. “It’s about our next step. Victor still has doubts about you.” Nadia tensed, her heart sinking. “Of course, he does. I’m not actually who he thinks I am.”

“As we die, both you and I. With my head in my hands, I sit and cry,” When Mira opens her eyes, she looks up at me while she sings the next verse; her eyes glisten with unshed tears, “You and me, I can see us dying, aren’t we?” Her voice quivers ever so slightly while she fights back her emotions. I fist my hands at my side, my jaw clenched tight while I hold her gaze. “Don’t speak. I know what you’re thinking. I don’t need your reasons, don’t tell me cause it hurts.” Finally, she finishes and releases a slow quivering breath as she lowers her gaze to her trembling fingers still resting on the piano.

when the time is right, I’ll be worthy of Miranda too.

It's better to let them think I'd let what they did to me slide and do something awfully terrible to them later. Miranda is infront wearing a black vintage shirt, white denim shorts, black boots and dark shades. Her long black straight hair was blew by the breeze. Boys collide into each other, few whistled, slam their lockers shut with a loud thud, while the rest where ogling as she confidently catwalk pass them.

He laughed and pounded the glass again with his bare hand. The window shattered. I screamed and lunged toward the passenger side. Teddy smirked, thrust his arm through the broken window, and unlocked the door. He wrenched it open and grabbed my shoulders, his fingers digging in like claws. "Get the hell out of there, you little bitch!" he snarled. I screamed and clutched at anything within reach as he dragged me out. It was useless. Teddy was far stronger than I was. I had no chance of resisting him.

It felt amazing to be back in his arms. A low groan pulled us out of our romantic scene. Fredrick set me back down on the ground then pushed me behind him. I hugged one of his arms tightly. I was no longer afraid. It felt like hugging him somehow gave me strength. Him being around me made me feel braver and stronger. "You can not win. Not this time. I will not let anyone ruin my plan this time. I will take what truly belongs to me. Sierra is gone. But Mira is mine. No one can take her away from me. Not you, not that bitch, not the Grand Masters and not even the angels." Matt yelled loudly at us both. I frowned when I heard what he said. It reminded me of the mantras Sierra used to repeat in

“Derek said you asked about singing. I don’t know anything about that. My guess? You have more than one enemy. And that one sounds… unwell. If I were you, I’d be more worried about that than my show.” My blood went cold. She was right. The singing was the real scary thing. Miranda was just a lady with a notebook. The singer was a ghost. Miranda stood up. “I’ll think about your offer. I’ll call your people.” She walked out. In the car, I felt tired. “She’ll do it,” Louis said. “She knows a redemption story sells more ads than an attack piece.” “But she reminded us,” I whispered. “The singer is still out there. And we have no idea who it is.”

The quiet, steady breath against her neck. But these weren’t tears of heartbreak. They were tears of victory. “I did it,” Mira whispered, voice thick. “I walked away. I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. I didn’t let him make me feel small.” Sophia held her tighter. “I know.” “I told him I didn’t want to see him again,” Mira said. “And I meant it. I didn’t second-guess. I didn’t wonder if I was being too harsh. I just… knew.”

He easily overcame Damien’s right-hand man and decapitated him. Winston wiped the blood and rushed to Mira to resume his work. Her wounds healed as soon as he took each of the needles out but with so much blood loss, Mira could barely clench her own hand. Hooking his arm around her waist while his other hand was freeing her body from the strap, Mira fell into his embrace, unable to command her own legs to support her weight.