Virginia Vallejo Books Novels & Stories

Her pictures when she was on the beach, drinking a whole bottle of champagne flashed on the screen. “—Valentine Valencia–Fajardo, the CEO William Fajardo’s wife, met her long-lost brother last night. A huge background story hid between the two siblings, whatever it was, it had caused a scene during her wedding reception. Our team contacted her brother, Vaughn Valencia, who insisted only to speak through the call.”

Valeria was a kingdom of breathtaking splendor-a land of rolling emerald hills, sparkling rivers, and a towering castle that pierced the sky like a shard of silver. It was also a kingdom ruled by fear and whispers, much of it attributed to its sharp-tongued, unrelenting, and ruthlessly ambitious princess, Lady Daphne Vasquez.

VALERIA I had spent the entire day buried in the library, flipping through books and notes about real estate management until my head felt heavy with information. I did not want to appear like a complete novice in front of Damián Ibarra Cruz, especially not when he was going to be my coach. The thought alone made me push myself harder, even when my concentration started to blur.

The conversation is parallel to the book, both happening simultaneously, which is very Clara. "He said that?" "He said you were like the sailors. You knew your stars." Valentina is very still for a moment. She thinks about the lecture hall — the fluorescent light, the notebook, the three words in the margin. She thinks about the list she has been carrying since she was twenty: the ROTC, New York, the commission, the file, Isabel, David, the Priorat, the Azores, Begur, Buenos Aires. She thinks about the people who became hers: Ethan, Clara, Rosa and Pep, Clàudia, Ferran and Laia and Júlia, Cristina, the Coles, Sofía, António, Montse, Álvaro, Inés, Camila.

Acid-free Preservation Folders, brittle logbooks, and centuries-old cargo manifests stood in neat, dusty rows. Valentina’s breath caught. I could almost hear her thoughts. This place was like a second home to her—the dust, the scent of forgotten ink, the thrill of secrets buried in parchment. She was already half-lost in it, fingertips brushing across labeled spines like she was greeting old lovers. I sighed and cleared my throat, needing to break the spell. “Valentina.” She didn’t even turn around. “Why can’t you look at me the way you look at these books? Should I summon a book fairy and have myself turned into a first edition? Maybe then you’d read every page with that much care.”

I said. “For now,” she agreed. “But when he has exhausted himself… then we take his bones and build something better.” Over my dead body, I thought. Her father’s journal burned like fire in my memory. The experiments. The curses. The obsession with Vlad’s blood. “Speaking of building,” Valentina said casually, “how did you enjoy the Archives?” My shoulders tightened. She was watching my reaction. Testing. Always testing. “They were… enlightening,” I said carefully. “They always are,” she replied. “So many stories. So much filth. So many chances to learn from other people’s stupidity.” She tilted her head. “Did you find anything… interesting?”

He asked, taking a notebook and pen in his hands. "It was so-so, good and bad both." Val says, and shrugged her shoulders. "Why good and why bad? Explain to me." James asked, writing down everything she said. "It was good because….I spent time with my family. And bad because…I fought with many people today." Val said, tapping on her chin. "Hmm, why do you fight with people?" James again questions, looking her into her eyes. "I killed some goons because they kidnapped, raped and killed girls." Valencia said, her eyes darkened as she mentioned them.

But I still found myself relying on Victor for almost everything. Maybe it was his quiet confidence, the way he seemed unshaken even in the face of chaos. Or maybe it was the way he treated me like more than just the "Valisteen Princess." To him, I was still Mia, the girl who used to smell like lavender and fall asleep to the hum of her mom’s sewing machine. In this world of glitter and shadows, Victor wasn’t just my protector. He was my reminder of who I used to be—and maybe who I could still become.

"This is a bad idea." "Probably. But it's the only idea I have." Valerie arrived first. She looked terrible. Her hair wasn't styled. Her makeup was smudged. She wore jeans and a wrinkled shirt. This was not the put-together woman from the funeral. "Show me," she said as soon as she walked in. I led her to Brock's study. I showed her the laptop. The accounts. The authorization documents. Her eyes got wide. Then they got hard. "You found this just now?"

the woman nodded before fixing her glasses, “Yes! That young handsome man asked me a moment ago before I got here, he was looking for the same book as well. He said that it was for his cousin.” Valencia wanted to scream all of her frustration simmering in her chest after wasting her time walking around in the maze-like store looking for the Non-fiction section only to know that a particular someone took it. “Ah, that’s too bad.” She replied dryly, standing motionless like a lifeless mannequin “Don’t worry dear, the store will have another batch of those books again.” Valencia’s dim and lifeless pair were now glimmering with hope, “You just have to wait for 3 months for the re-stock.” She bec