Yelena Romanoff Novels & Stories

"How unfortunate that your vision only extends as far as your own twisted ego allows. I am Nadia Romanova...and I have come to restore order in the wake of your depravity." Dmitry stiffened, shooting a wary glance towards Abeni who returned it with her own confused frown. The name Romanova was notorious throughout Moscow's seedy underbelly, but little more than a whisper on the darkest streets. If this woman was truly who she claimed...her unexpected allegiance could tilt the balance of power in unpredictable ways.

Almost. But not for long. He stopped a few feet away. She didn’t look up. “What happened?” she asked softly. Rafael studied her. Her shoulders were tense, her spine rigid despite the calm setting. She knew. She always did. “She called me.” Sophia slowly lifted her eyes. “Who?” “Elena.” Sophia frowned. “Elena who?” He exhaled and sat beside her, elbows resting on his knees. “Elena Volkova. A former intelligence agent. Russian. She... we worked together. Years ago. Before I became who I am now.”

"The same person who's been telling him everything. About the empire. About the money. About the bodies." "Reyes?" "Reyes doesn't know who. But she's scared." --- The phone rang at nine. Elena answered. "Ms. Hart." Reyes's voice. Tired. Old. "I'm sorry to call so early." "You're not sorry. You're scared." "Yes." "Tell me about Yuri." "He's thirty-four. Trained in Russia. Worked as an enforcer for his father for years. He's dangerous." "So were Alexei. So was Sergei. So was Volodya."

Metropolitan Police Amber Chase………………………………………… Ex-Wife of Robbie Chase Lewis Barfield………………………………………… Moscow Based Private Detective General Ozdoyev……………………………………… Russian Deputy Prosecutor Elmira…………………………………………………. General Ozdoyev’s Escort Elena Koshka…………………………………………... Ex-Wife of Igor Akinfeev’s Kayla Zelenyy…………………………………………. Ex-wife of Alexi Zelenyy Ingrid Kuzyaev………………………………………… Wife of Daler Kuzyaev

What comes next? Roman tapped his tablet and leaned forward. While we were at Volkov's gala, I managed to intercept another message. "Nyasha" was mentioned several times. She is renowned in the criminal underworld as a top-tier mercenary broker and strategist. Elena said, looking through the files, "She's a ghost." "Just a reputation for being ten steps ahead of her enemies, no photos, no verified nationality." "Do we have a place?" Xander's tone was stern as he asked.

"But I have people watching Lorenzo's known properties. Eventually he'll surface." "Or he'll stay hidden until he thinks I've given up." "Will you?" I smiled. "What do you think?" "I think you're obsessed. I think you've spent fifteen years planning this and you're not stopping until Jovan is destroyed or dead. Preferably both." "See? You get me." She didn't smile back. Elena was a former Spetsnaz, part of the Russian military intelligence that had killed more people than I could count and felt nothing. But she had this annoying habit of being honest when I didn't want honesty.

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.

She clicked on Focus Media and read the first few lines. “Elizabeth Potter has returned to her role as head of department after a one-week suspension. Sources within the company say it was a misunderstanding.” She paused. Elvis grabbed his beard and stroked it gently while staring at the ceiling. Mr. Freeman looked down at the floor. Montgomery kept her eyes on both of them. Mr. Freeman finally lifted his face and locked eyes with Montgomery. “Yelena Starkov. She's the shadow,” he affirmed. After the office confrontation, Yelena dashed to the castle where Mrs. Walter chose to spend her days. The older woman spent her time caring for her flowers and enjoying the fresh air from the surrounding

Then she curled onto her side, tears burning hot trails down her cheeks. Donatella Lombardi. Daughter of a traitor. Born into betrayal. The ceiling above her blurred, the walls felt too close, and somewhere deep in her bones she knew—her life had just been split into before and after. SAINT PETERSBURG, RUSSIA (THE BRATVA'S EMPIRE)

Patterson said over a loudspeaker. Elena returned to humanity, naked before military forces and news cameras, because survival was more important. "My name is Elena Volkov," she said. We don't threaten anyone. We're trying to stop Dmitri Volkov's war designed to force this confrontation." “You have two minutes left,” Patterson said. Elena answered a strange number on instinct despite the timing. Dmitri spoke clearly and happily. Hello, daughter. I'm watching your performance, but I've detonated bombs in Boston, Miami, and Portland while you negotiate. They'll detonate in five minutes unless Patterson withdraws his forces."