Yelena Belova Comic Novels & Stories

I scrambled back, my legs skidding on the floor as I looked at the heavy bronze decoration I'd dropped during the time I hid behind the sofa. “The tape is gone because of you! I'll find that aide! And I'll kill him too! I kill everyone until the truth stays and remains buried!” “Nothing stays hidden for too long, child,” Yelena says, in that ‘oh poor, Rhea’ voice i hated so much she pulled herself up with her trembling, frail arms.

And then something unexpected happened. Yelena leaned in, and kissed her. Not soft. Not sweet. But like a challenge. Like a spark daring to become a wildfire. Nova pulled back, stunned. “What the hell was that?” Yelena smiled. “I wanted to taste the flame.” And then she jumped, off the roof. Nova screamed, but by the time she looked down, Yelena was gone. Vanished. Into the night. Back in the ballroom, Irena toasted her guests. But in her eyes, there was fury.

Straight to the center. Straight to Volkov. My blood turned to ice. She stopped ten feet from him. Looked at Anya first. Eyes softened for a second. Then to Volkov. “I’m here,” she said. Voice steady. Loud enough to carry. Volkov smiled. Slow. Cruel. “Elena Kovaleva. The true heir. Come to save the spare.” “Let her go.” He laughed once. Sharp. “You think it works like that? You walk in. I let her walk out. Then what? You think I let either of you live?”

Oksana said, “but those meetings always run long.” “They don’t need to admit it. We’ve both learned how to wait.” A small laugh. A quiet understanding passing between them—the unspoken art of living in orbit around dangerous men. They stood side by side under the garden lanterns as the sky deepened to purple-black. ✘ ✘ ✘ Four-year-old Vasiliya Rostova—perpetually disheveled blond hair, shoes always on the wrong feet—found Elena. She collided with Elena’s knees without warning. Looked up with a face of perfect innocence. In her small palm sat a plastic seashell liberated from a decorative vase.

I was ready to fight for my love. The door to my room creaked open and I saw Viola standing by the post. Her eye widened with a smile with a smile which never got to her eyes. “Elena, sister,” she called with surprise and excitement. “We’ve all been searching for you. Are you alrifh?” She asked as she walked into my room. Her purple eyes flicked from me to the doctor, then back to me. I gave doctor Tancredi a sign to leave, then forced a smile, just like Viola did. “I am fine, Viola. Why’s everyone worried? Aren’t you the Luna now?” I responded, instinctively taking my hands off my stomach.

It bit back. Elena exhaled slowly and opened her laptop, more out of habit than necessity. She scanned market updates, legal commentary, social feeds. Speculation bloomed everywhere. Names were whispered. Accusations sharpened. Then a chair scraped softly across from her. “You look like someone who forgot how to blink.” Elena startled, then relaxed as Bella Voss smiled at her, scarf half-unwound, eyes bright with concern and something like pride. “Bella,” Elena said, relief threading her voice. “How did you—”