Yelena Belova Icons นิยาย & เรื่องราว

She doesn’t find me, her shoulders loosen just a fraction before she turns away. Enzo notices. Of course he does. He leans in, “She searched.” “I know,” I say, swirling my glass of vodka. Iron Fist rolls her neck across the ring. She’s thick, well built, and confident. She’s won more fights than she’s lost. She likes breaking smaller opponents. Vitale squints. “That’s Belva?” “Yes,” Baranov says. “The masked one.” “I’ve heard of her,” Fournier adds. “Never actually seen her fight.”

It turned out that enjoying something alone brought more happiness than sharing it. At 10:00 pm, I took the drug on time and set the divorce papers on the coffee table. That night, I slept without dreams. Unexpectedly, Fabian didn't come back for three days straight. He sent a message saying his experiment had entered a critical stage, and he needed to work overtime for a few days. However, Yelena's Instagram was unusually active. In one of the photos, she was by an island's shore. The wind lifted her long skirt, and beside her, part of a man's arm was shown. I spotted a birthmark I knew all too well on that arm.

Instead, she whispered, “I just need you. Not as my shield. Not as my fixer. Just you.” For the briefest flicker of a second, Elena’s eyes softened. And then she turned away, her voice tight. “You’ll always have me.” But Valeria wasn’t sure she believed it anymore. ******** The next day, Elena proved her loyalty in public. She stood by Valeria’s side as cameras flashed, her hand firm on Valeria’s arm. She spoke to the press with calculated words, tearing down rumors with a sharpness that left journalists scrambling. She looked every bit the loyal confidante, the friend-turned-guardian.

She was days from delivery, propped up on pillows, scrolling her phone while he fed her orange slices, her cravings in full swing. “Mmm, these are perfect,” she said, chewing lavishly, her free hand on her belly. He smiled faintly, focused on peeling a pear next, his mind elsewhere—Elena’s trip, his promises on the plane. Sophia glanced at him, then back to her screen. A post popped up: photos of Elena and Damien at the launch, dancing close, another of him helping with her heels, and them entering the hotel. The caption screamed: “CEO of Vanguard Gallery Auction House and Lady Boss of Rossi Designs Seen Acting All Lovey-Dovey. Is This a Sign of a Possible Heaven-Made Match?”

Viktor “Viktor,” I turn upon hearing my name and I keep a neutral look on my face when Yelena approaches me. There is a soft smile on her face as she walks towards me. She’s wearing a blue dress that stops just above her knee and her straightened brunette hair stops right above her shoulders. There's heavy makeup on her face and I must say, Yelena exudes an aura wherever she goes. She is Vladimir’s daughter.

Lena's POV. “You are nothing but a clown I raised. You will die worthless and nobody will think you ever existed, not me, not even Dominic,” Elaine fumed at me with a knife in her hand. I pulled back breathing rapidly. She launched at me, screaming furiously, and I ran in any direction, my heart throbbed and my hands trembled. She was a few inches from thrusting the weapon at me when I tripped on my feet and fell to the ground.

Bella blinked softly like she hadn’t expected that sound from me. Honestly? Neither had I. The tension between us shifted slightly after that, it became softer. Bella pulled her cloak tighter against the wind. “I found out the truth in Valoria,” she admitted quietly. My jaw locked tight in an instant. So she really knew. “Elena got drunk,” Bella continued. “Started bragging to her friends.” Her expression darkened faintly. “I’ve got Beta Kylian wrapped around my little finger.” I rolled my eyes instantly. “Insufferable woman.”

Elia is quite famous after tying up contracts with several big brands and wearing their products during campaigns or magazine shoots. The Russian woman had been on the rooftop fifteen minutes earlier, and she was satisfied to see that the design and interior of the outdoor space rented for dinner were luxurious and elegant, just as Elia had expected. The woman was wearing a red dress with an open back, Elia's collarbone looked very beautiful, and her makeup was quite bold and sexy, like the persona she always showed in every photo shoot. The elevator door on the rooftop opened. Elia immediately moved when she saw Oriaga appear, and this was like a reverse moment of a princess picking up the