Violet Thorn の小説・ストーリー

I grab my pillow and sob quietly into it, pretending it was my brother. A knock makes me gasp for air but I don't move from my spot, hugging the pillow tighter as my tears refuse to stop. If Hestia was back with the cookies, I'd gladly take some. Another knock on the door makes me look up at it at the same time it opens, Anthony's face peeking around it. His expression turns alarmed as he processes my fetal position and tear soaked pillow. "Violet," He says, a sense of urgency in his voice as he closes the door behind him, "What's going on? Why are you crying?"

It began in a shadow-draped alley behind the gutted cathedral of Vienna—once a center of Hollow experiments, now a ruin surrounded by silence. Bain and Vulture stood side by side, dressed in black, the sigils of the Thorned Circle engraved beneath their coats. Across from them, a woman emerged—pale, veiled, lips stitched shut. Her name was Mother Throe, a defected priestess of the Hollow cult. She held a small scroll bound in scarlet twine.

Her right hands clinched to her left wrist as she looked at space. “Ursula Theodore”, Violet’s mother did have a long history of abusive men and psychologically why Violet, a beautiful, smart and modern woman would take a low life Jonathan as a lover. During my search for Violet I had employed a private investigator who had informed me who Jonathan was, A pathological gambler and a failed artist. The car engine dropped at the sight of the tacos signboard, The domineering light seemed to catch Violet’s attention as she gazed upon the light lustfully.

It was Violet. Dressed in a flowing gown that mirrored the moonlit sky, her ebony hair cascaded like a waterfall, framing her delicate features and illuminating eyes the color of twilight. In her presence, a sense of both vulnerability and fierce determination resonated—an echo of her turbulent past and her unwavering spirit.

I tell Violet. The words leave before I can stop them. The crowd gasps. “What?” she breathes. “Say you belong to me,” I say. “And I’ll stop.” Zoella groans beneath me. Violet’s hands tremble. “I will never belong to you.” Something inside me cracks. I shove Zoella again. Violet stands. She scans the ground. Finds a stone. She doesn’t hesitate. She throws it. The stone cuts through the air and hits my left eye.

"Violet Carter is the strongest person I know. She survived betrayal, rebuilt her career, and faced her abuser in court. My feelings for her don't diminish that. They're just proof that she's capable of being loved the way she deserves." Bennett's cross was predictable. Tried to paint Liam as opportunistic. As taking advantage of a vulnerable woman. But Liam shut it down calmly. "I invested in Violet's company because it's a sound business decision. I fell in love with her because she's extraordinary. Those are two separate facts that happen to coexist." When he stepped down, he paused at our table. Squeezed my shoulder. Kept walking. Marcus rested his case. All evidence presented. All witne

The last thing I needed was to appear vulnerable in front of my colleagues after the scene Sylvan had caused. As I rounded the corner toward my office, I froze. Elizabeth Thorne stood in the corridor, her elegant figure unmistakable even from behind. Sylvan's mother. The Luna of Thorn Pack. For a moment, I considered turning around, but she'd already seen me. Her eyes, the same ice-blue as Sylvan's, assessed me coolly. "Vivian," she said, her voice perfectly modulated as always. I hesitated, debating how to address her. Though I'd been Sylvan's mate for years, I'd never felt comfortable calling her "mother." Our relationship had always been polite but distant.

Giving the boy her attention, Rose introduced herself; “thank you for helping me get a better view young sir, I do love watching! My name is Rose Duncaster, heiress to this manor.” “Pleasure miss, my pa is about to compete in the sword play. We just moved here from Wales, my name is Percival but everyone just calls me Percy.” Shaking his hand as her da taught her to, not too firm but not soft and flimsy either… she caught herself gazing into his gorgeous eyes, they were the brightest blue she’d ever seen, and her ma’s eyes were pretty spectacularly blue as well. Then the spell was broken with the clanging of metal and the entertainment had begun.

Holly snapped out of her daze, mustering a weak smile for Yoel, "I'm fine, really. Don't worry about me." Yoel sighed, "You know, it's okay to be vulnerable with me. I'm here for you." However, Holly shook her head, "No, it's not about that. I just know that if I want to stop people like Cecilia from pushing me around, I've got to be my own hero." Yoel could not help but smile. He was not mocking her. He was smiling because he knew he had found someone truly special. Yoel gently gripped Holly's hand, reassuring her with every touch.