Vox X Valentino Novels & Stories

"You came back to your owner's arms." Valentino was getting ready to return to the factory that same morning. He was wearing an elegant black suit, without a tie, only a white shirt under the jacket with three loose buttons at the top. He checked the time on his watch, which indicated that it was already getting late. Although many might think he was enjoying his honeymoon, the reality was completely different. He had no need to hide it, since it was Athena who decided to return earlier than planned.

Get in, and we'll talk. "I have a car," replied Valentina. "You have a car" Jacob looked around. "Where is it?" "Behind yours." Jacob turned around to look and laughed out loud, "Is that a scooter?" "Yes," Valentina replied in a muffled voice, her face flushed for an embarrassing moment. "Come on, I'll give you a ride back" Jacob flashed her a smile and, regardless of Valentina's response, walked a few steps and put the little Scooter in the trunk of his car.

I pressed my hip into his, my glare sending her scurrying. Dante grinned down at me. “My fierce principessa.” The night dragged, bids whispered, egos stroked. Nico wrapped with the BMW X5 Protection VR6: “3.0L inline-6, 335 hp, armored core, top speed 130 mph.” Clients buzzed, wallets itching, but we held firm, no prices yet. Let them stew. As the last VIPs filed out, Dante pulled me into a shadowed corner by the Nissan Patrol Y63, his mouth claiming mine.

*Chapter one* " I am not a virgin anymore!" repeated Valeria Thompson for the umpteenth time. Her tear-stained cheeks became wet again. She had done something truly scandalous. Unconsciously, she banged her head on the steering wheel bringing about it to hoot loudly. " Do you want to get me caught? This is not my car" she reprimanded the car pointing sternly at the steering wheel pouting her lips. Valeria was a sunset brunette. Her hair was shoulder length and mostly curly at the edges and a bit black at the roots. Her lips had a forever touch of shiny lip gloss naturally red. She was incredibly beautiful.

Luca flashed a quick, mischievous grin. We sat down. Vincenzo took the head of the table, and I settled beside him, painfully aware of every small movement. The ache between my thighs flared gently whenever I shifted, sending shy heat crawling up my neck. Valentina didn’t waste time. She turned straight to her brother. “I want to change my driver. The last one was stupid enough to try releasing information to the paparazzi without my knowledge or approval. He thought he could make a quick name for himself.”

~ALINA’S POV~ I slipped into the car, the door closing softly behind me as Valentino rounded the hood and climbed into the driver’s seat. He didn’t speak at first. He just started the engine, and the MC20 purred to life like a beast. Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me to the Moon” hummed low through the speakers. It was dark out, the kind of soft, hazy Toronto night where the streetlights looked like gold dust smeared across black silk.

Ava’s brow furrowed as doubt clouded her mind. How had Valentina known she would be at Maison Marseille tonight? And hadn’t Valentina been unwell? Why had she been discharged from the hospital so quickly? Outside the towering building, Valentina leaned against a sleek Lamborghini worth five million dollars—one that her father, Alfonso, had bought for her. The sports car gleamed under the city lights, a statement of wealth and indulgence. Alfonso had repeatedly told Valentina not to drive alone and had even offered to assign her a driver. But Valentina often ignored his advice, opting to discreetly track a man she was infatuated with, as though her persistence would one day earn his attention

Valentino was lying on the rooftop of the packhouse in a long-sleeved white shirt and a white thong, drowning himself in one hundred percent alcohol. It has been two weeks since the incident and he was still not over what happened to him. “Valentino?” someone called out to him. Turning his head to the right, he said, “Fuck off, Grayson, what more do you want from me?” Grayson sat down beside Valentino. With a sheepish smile he said, “You should not be drinking such strong wine, you will die.”

"Look at it closely." Valerie bent over and looked at it. "Oh okay, so there's a 'V' on top and a 'W' at the bottom. Is that supposed to mean something?" Julian asked in exasperation, "Do you not know what car this is?" Valerie nodded. "I see lots of people driving this around. It probably isn't that expensive." "Remember this, Valerie. This is a Volkswagen Phaeton." Valerie nodded. "Is this more expensive than my husband's Black Badge?"

"It's fine. We'll just have another one. A healthy one this time." His hand pressed harder, sending a sharp wave of pain through my still-raw body. I stared at him, every fiber of me seething with hatred, but my body was too weak to resist. I could only glare, unable to suppress the revulsion crawling across my skin. My gaze wandered to the car—this car. The same one he bragged about using to drive for Uber, the same one he used to meet countless other women. The bile rose in my throat as I turned away, gagging violently.