Yelena Belova Icons นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“Varce Bosta you-” While she was still talking, different guards stormed in with their leader. Katerina Ivok. Before Yelena’s guard would react, they had all been sent to the ground with bullets. Katerina looked nothing like the fighter from earlier that was hit as she stood tall. Yelena’s eyes grew wide with shock. Her men were down and she was all alone with Boris and Malcolm, who of course would get shot down if they dare move. It was incredible. “You!” She growled. She felt, what? Betrayed? The fuck? She really thought Katerina was still on her side? She wasn't informed?

He's not kidding. I nod. "Dinner's ready." *** 4am. The cabin door rattles with three loud bangs, followed by another three, and then another. It makes me wonder who the hell would come here this early in the morning and why they’re being so demanding. I rush downstairs to find Oliver behind the door and when he opens it, two large men stand glaring at him. “The doorbell is just as effective, you know,” he says sarcastically. “We’re looking for a lady named Bella,” one of them says ignoring his tone, while the other peaks into the house over Oliver’s shoulder. My heart skips as his eyes land on me.

Then, curiosity in her tone, “Interesting. And what exactly do you need?” Elena took a steady breath. “Help.” The next evening, they met at a quiet lounge downtown. Victoria sipped her martini, watching Elena with an amused glint in her eye. “So. You finally decided to take my advice?” Elena nodded. “You said creating an illusion of demand was necessary. I need to make sure my work gets noticed.” I had to step up my game especially after Mia mentioned Elias Vance and other famous artists would be present. Victoria leaned back, smiling. “Smart girl.”

Gabriella asked as she helped Elena up to the seat before pouring her a glass of water. Elena drank the water and smiled, " it's nothing darling. I just fell and hurt my knee. That's why I was crying" she lied. " Come, I'll help you get up" Gabriella said as she helped Elena up. CENTENARY ANNIVERSARY....... Nikita stared at Elena with hatred in her eyes as she watched as Elena arranged everything with ease and elegance. " So this is the woman who thinks she can take everything away from me? I'll never let it happen because today is going to be your last day on this earth " she said before snapping her fingers and a man who was clad in a suit appeared.

"Can everyone stop saying 'couple-like'?" Her tone carried genuine frustration. "Who even invented that phrase?" Sofia laughed. "Apparently everyone except you loves it." Elena simply took another bite of her toast. After a moment, Sofia leaned back in her chair. "I have to admit, Sophia Vale is incredibly talented." She nodded thoughtfully. "That woman knows fashion." "With all the publicity she's getting, I wouldn't be surprised if SV Studios is fully booked for months." Elena smiled faintly. "You're welcome."

Elena, seated in an armchair near the window, smiled as she watched Valkiria give orders to servants, seamstresses, and clan members as if she were commanding an army. "I’m starting to think she was born for this," she murmured. Vlad, beside her, simply raised an eyebrow. "Valkiria was born to command." Elena chuckled softly. The preparations lasted all week. The inner garden would be illuminated by hundreds of candles protected in crystal domes. The grand hall looked like something out of an ancient dream. On the fifth day, Valkiria appeared with the dress, leaving Elena speechless the moment she saw it—it was breathtaking.

Elena picks up her phone and makes a call she’s been warned never to make. “I want undercover,” she says when the line connects. A sigh. “You know what you’re asking.” “I want inside his world,” Elena says. “The slow way.” Silence. “You’ll disappear,” the voice says. “No backup. No badge.” “I already have,” Elena replies. ⸻ Three months later, Elena Vale no longer exists. In her place is Elena Riva. Twenty-six. Recently moved. Questionable references. Clean enough to pass, messy enough to feel real. She dyes her hair darker, softens her posture, learns how to hold a tray instead of a weapon.

Eliana said. She was sitting on the beige sofa, a makeup artist hovering over her, dusting powder onto her nose. She looked impeccable. She was wearing a midnight blue dress—a nod to the engagement party—that was modest but sharp. Armor. “I’m not pacing,” I lied. “I’m strategizing.” “You’re thinking about how many ways you can legally strangle Elena Costa on live television,” she corrected. “Elena Costa is a vulture,” I muttered. “She made a career out of tearing women down under the guise of ‘journalism.’ If she comes for you, Eliana…”

No one asks me what I want for my birthday. Elena gasps, eyes shining. “I want a doll !” She talks so fast she might as well need subtitles. “ The one I saw on the shelf at Target, the one you said you’d get me! It has long blonde hair, really long legs, and it’s dressed like a superhero ! It’s the coolest doll ever! ” I open my mouth, ready to suggest my own birthday gift. I want a small sports car, the kind that makes sounds and has blinking lights. But before I can get the words out, Elena is already taking a breath.

A female voice told Ellaine. She was beaten and tired, more dead than alive. Her breath was just a thin thread. But she was determined to win this, once and for all. She wouldn’t dare give up. Because her hands were tied, she struggled to reach the Hristoax with her mouth. To distract Ánië, she said “You will not be able to beat me now.” “Really? Why?” She turned to Ellaine just in time to see her eat the pearl in her necklace—the Hristoax.