Valentina Reading 소설 & 이야기

I smiled and said, "That could be arranged." Although the room was dimly lit and the curtains were drawn, I'm not sure if I saw her grin again. I took a seat on the armchair that was in one corner of her room. She entered the restroom after choosing a few items from her closet. I could hear the sound of water running. I started reading a book that was left on Valentina's nightstand and used the time to handle business on my phone. After a few moments, I heard the restroom door open. Valentina came out, and I couldn't help but notice how long her legs were. She wore a bum short and a loose sleeveless blouse. She took a hairdryer out of her closet and strolled about barefoot.

' He thought The men sent by Alexander immediately left for the farmhouse after some minutes, they got there. Valentina was sitting down reading a book, she was so into this book that she didn't sense that there are people wearing masks and black suits in the compound. Her thoughts were, it was the guards sent to protect her. She kept reading smiling sheepishly as she read through, thinking about what she and Ryan will do as couples, when they get married.

Valentina sat at her desk on the third day, staring at the same paragraph in Elena Petrova’s manuscript for the tenth time. The words refused to make sense, her mind kept drifting back to Kia. Every time he walked past her desk, her body reacted instantly. Her thighs clenched together under the desk, Her nipples hardened against the inside of her bra, and heat flooded between her legs until her panties grew damp. She shifted in her chair, pressing her thighs tighter. The movement only made her swollen clit rub against the soaked lace. A small shiver ran through her.

When I returned to the estate, the guards bowed, the staff scattered, and the air felt heavier. Valentina was in the atrium, alone, surrounded by the scent of jasmine and old vengeance. She sat with one leg folded beneath her, eyes closed like she was meditating. Or mourning. She didn’t look up when I entered. "You met him," she said softly. "Yes." "Did you kill him?" "Not yet." Her eyes opened slowly. They were tired. Not weak. Never weak. But full of the kind of exhaustion that came from loving men who only knew how to conquer.

His tone was neutral, like he was dismissing a servant. Valentina walked back to her room, her nightgown almost falling off her body like it irritated her. As soon as she entered her bathroom, she locked the door and sat on the floor, the tiles cold against her skin. The shower ran, but she didn’t move, she kept crying until her body felt heavy, her mind numb. Back in his room, Dante sprawled across his bed, thinking out loud out as he drifted into a deep, untroubled sleep.

Xanvier's pov I was met with emptiness when I tried to cuddle Sandra. I forced my eyes open as I turned back to see just her pillow. I sat up and saw her silhouette before tracing it to the window. There she stood, her petite frame trembling under the moon rays. "Why is she standing like that?" I wondered. Her eyes glued to the curtains as her grip threatens to rip it apart. "Sandra", I called but no reply. "Sandra". I called again, this time a little louder.

“Have a seat, Leilah.” Colby assisted me in the seat in front of this Blake guy while he took the seat beside him. There were folders on the table and Blake is drinking wine. “Leilah, this is my adoptive brother, Blake Valentino. Blake, this is my biological sister, Leilah Rivera.” Colby introduced us. Blake reached out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Rivera.” His voice is sultry and wispy. It sounded like sea waves crashing inside my ears.

The birds didn’t know someone was about to bleed. Olive didn’t speak at first. Just handed her the page. Val took it carefully, unfolded it, read. It was a leaked “sample” page from the in-development docuseries script. Not from Alecia’s hand—clearly some writer’s early draft. But the lines stung anyway. > “VALENTINA, late 20s, flawless, calculating, offers herself to the mafia heir not out of love, but strategy. Her eyes are sharp, unfeeling—she knows what marrying him means. Power. Safety. Escape. Betrayal disguised as sacrifice.”

Her eyes landed on Lena in Rafael’s oversized shirt. “Well,” she said. “That answers that.” Lena flushed but straightened her spine. “Hi. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” Valentina smirked. “You didn’t need to. We weren’t exactly whispering.” Behind her, Rafael appeared, looking tired and frustrated. “Valentina, don’t start.” “Oh, I’ve started,” she said sweetly. “Let’s see how far it goes.” She brushed past Lena on her way to the elevator, pausing only to throw over her shoulder, “Word of advice? Watch your back. Not everyone wants to see Rafael happy.”

“He always did like fire… until it threatened to consume him.” “Who are you?” Melissa demanded. “Someone who knew every version of him long before you ever existed,” Valentina answered smoothly. “Someone who survived the version he’s trying to hide from you.” The silence that followed was suffocating, Melissa’s eyes locked on mine. “Is that true?” “Melissa—” I started. “Answer me.” Valentina crossed her arms, watching the fracture widen with visible satisfaction. “I didn’t come to cause problems,” she lied softly. “I came to warn her. Men like Adriano don’t love. They possess. And when the possession cracks… people bleed.”