Voss Novels & Stories

Before leaving, I changed the passcode to the villa. Agnes had no shortage of places to stay. She had no need of this house. But no sooner had I gone than she staggered up to the villa's door, reeking of alcohol. Her steps were unsteady—she had clearly drunk far too much. Again and again, she punched numbers into the keypad. Each time, the lock flashed back the same response: incorrect password. "Did I… remember it wrong? I've tried every code I could think of…"

He put his arm around my body, pulling me against him, setting off calm and sparks throughout my body. The waiter brought out bread for us. Then a different waiter came out with a charcuterie board. He placed it in front of us and said, “Compliments of the chef. Here we have some parmesan flown in from Italy this morning, aged twenty-four months, our most popular imported salami, prosciutto di San Daniele, and our house-made mozzarella.” He pointed out each item as he spoke. After our main course was served, a tall man dressed in a suit came over to our table. As soon as I inhaled his scent, I instantly recognized that he was a werewolf from our neighboring pack that owned the pharmaceutical

Kimora was walking with Clara behind the couple and they kept looking at each other. For Clara, the atmosphere was more than tensed for them. While for Kimora, she wondered if Violet was just in the family to ruin their happiness. However, Connor was the least bothered by the atmosphere and kept walking ahead of the couple till they arrived their final destination where he took a turn to the right. When Violet looked at the direction he took, it was a continuation of the stairs she was just from climbing, but when she turned to her left, she saw another continuation and groaned.

Skyla's pov The car pulled up to a towering building in the heart of Barcelona. The sleek, modern structure rose high above the bustling city, its gleaming glass windows reflecting the afternoon sun. The name Ignacio Enterprises was displayed in gleaming silver letters above the entrance, a symbol of power and wealth that seemed to mock my every hesitation. The driver, a man in a dark suit, stepped out and opened my door with practiced precision. "This way, Miss Parker," he said, his tone clipped and impersonal.

“Lucius Voss, alpha of Devon Pack. I own the largest real estate company in Washington, the Voss Landscapes.” A billionaire and alpha. Sounds appealing enough for an ally. “Fine. I’ll work with you,” I said after a moment of silence.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Serena Alcott had come to the Voss house at nine years old. Her mother had been a close friend of Aldric's, the kind of friendship that came with obligations, and one of those obligations had been a girl who needed stability after a difficult year. The patriarch had provided it without drama, the way he provided most things: efficiently, without sentiment, as a transaction he considered worthwhile.

Noah hated how easy it was to walk into this place, as though the house had been expecting him long before he ever decided to come. As though it already knew he would eventually end up here. Because where else could he go? The gates of the Voss villa opened without resistance, the driveway stretched ahead of him, lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and expensive lamps that glowed softly in the evening darkness. The villa itself sat at the end like a monument. Too large, too clean, and too expensive. Nothing about it looked lived in, rather, it looked maintained like every piece of furniture and every blade of grass existed exactly where Adrian

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“My wife.” “She is not part of our brotherhood, and she doesn't have the bloodlines or connections to help our family expand,” Vittorio muttered, his voice dropping into a whisper, a vicious bite behind his words. “Why on earth would you discard the alliance I arranged for you for a common stripper whore?” My vision went instantly narrow. A violent impulse flared in my chest, and my knuckles itched to slam directly into his arrogant face. Instead, I slowly curled my fist flat against my thigh, my eyes darkening as I locked gazes with him.

He: "The corporate name." She: "H. Voss Consulting. Three letters and a surname. The kind of corporate name that could be anyone." She paused. "The payment was made from a fund managed by a holding company that traces back to Reede's foundational structure. I established that thread at two seventeen this morning."

“What happened?” “My mother is insane.” “Love that for her.” Before I could respond, the office elevator opened. A few employees straightened automatically. I looked up instinctively. Voss stepped out wearing a dark charcoal suit, sleeves rolled slightly, phone in one hand. His eyes moved through the office once before stopping briefly on me. Then he continued walking toward his office. Normal. Except halfway there, he stopped. Turned. And walked back. Directly toward my desk. Tessa whispered dramatically, “Here we go.”