روايات وقصص ضمن Yelena Belova Pfp

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.

Offering a military salute by crossing their hands over their chest they stood facing her. Jelena Savage was not as old as one would expect from the leader of an entire race. She was only 17, even younger than Axel by a whole two years! Her hair was braided just above both her ears, her eyes watched coldly like a hawk and inside them, one could sense ruthlessness emanating from her whole being. Her voice was a bat match for her personality, she sounded nothing like who she was. This was a strong woman, who ruled with fear and an iron fist.

The beats from the music made her remember Damon. She danced harder, screaming again, “Come on! Louder!” She turned too quickly and crashed face-first into a stranger's warm, solid chest. “Shit—sorry!” she gasped, using her hands to balance herself after she hit the stranger. Her waist got caught by strong hands that belonged to a man with big hands and familiar hands. Elena slowly raised her gaze to him. Her heart thudded heavily against her chest. It was him. Damon Voss stood there in the VIP section, looking down at her with dark, burning eyes. His black shirt had the top buttons open, showing smooth, tanned skin and a hint of hard muscle.

She may have had a baby a year ago, but there's no sign of it. But it's her face that catches me off guard. Beautiful, yes, but... wrong, somehow. Too smooth, too symmetrical. The work is expensive— probably the best plastic surgeons money can buy— but I can see the subtle signs. The slight tightness around her eyes, the way her forehead doesn't move when she smiles. "Tamara! So wonderful to meet you in person. I'm Elena Vorobeva." She glides toward me with outstretched hands, her smile perfect and empty. "Please, sit. Can Mrs. Dubois bring you anything? Coffee? Sparkling water?"

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.

Geovanni was silent for a few seconds. Then, he suddenly said, "Do you have any personal grudge against Ms. Faraday?" "Why did you ask?" Chelsea paused, and she pursed her lips tightly. Geovanni enlarged the profile picture of the account. "The hand of this profile photo belongs to Ms. Faraday." The profile photo of the one who defamed her was a right hand holding a cup of coffee. However, Chelsea still did not understand. Most of the people who defamed her were fans of Yamilet. It was not strange at all that they used Yamilet's photo as the profile photo.

Lena never lost her composure, but right now, her hands were visibly shaking. "Bella," Lena said, her voice tight and strained. "You need to see this. Right now." I frowned, shifting Victor slightly in my arms. "What is it, Lena? Is it the Marchetti Group?" "No," Lena said, stepping forward. She tapped the screen of her tablet and set it down on the marble island. "It’s Nadina Volkova. She just went live on a major news outlet. It’s broadcasting everywhere." I leaned over the counter, my eyes scanning the screen.

she said with a grin, as if she’d just set a fuse to a bomb. Two posts. Same background, same hand, same glittering ring. No faces, no names. Just one line, "Said yes to the love of my life." It was a bait. A perfectly timed trap to make the internet spiral in confusion before the press conference. Speculation was already bubbling, and that’s exactly what Elena wanted. She quickly rushed and created a new account and posted with a caption " who noticed that Stefan Sterling and Mia Meyer uploaded the same thing, at the same time " A big mischievous smile was planted on her face.

He did all of this to protect me! Yelena glared at him, her nose flared and it was clear that his words were getting to her. “After years of working for you like the idiot that I was, I've been able to look into your mind and know what you would be capable of doing. I knew you would come here.” Yelena’s hands ran to her mouth to stifle her gasps. She was more concerned about the fact that everything going on was happening live. She was trying to morph back into her fake humanitarian persona that she has gotten good at perfecting, but for what? It's over!

After wiping the corners of my eyes, I unlocked my phone and opened the pack's intranet social feed. Yelena's latest post just happened to be right at the top. The photo showed her lying on the soft fur rug in Chad's main house, her face pale and tears stains still at the corners of her eyes. Besides her was a heap of get-well-soon gifts. Her caption read, "I had a really bad scare today. Thankfully, Chad and Max were with me, and with all the gifts they gave, I feel a little better. I wonder how Tessa is doing, though.