Elena Coats Novels & Stories

I look at the man I helped and it occurred to me apart from being my mate, I know nothing about him. Just like Kyle predicted we met standing out of the secret room but this time Eleanor was glowing out of ordinary. I was scared because I have never seen her being scared of her own self especially when she touched each and every guard and they all became whole again. "She has a taste to undergo inorder to save her mate." Kyle whispered to me. The next was seeing Eleanor collapsing before us and she was caught by Max who carried her in a bridal style. If not for Luna 's mate, everyone would have thought they were an item.

She continued, her tone soft and low. Leo didn't say anything further, he simply tried to calm his nerves, the events of that night constantly playing in his head. How on earth is going to kill Martinez if he can't even hold a gun to him? *** Eleonora was returning from Pablo's room after giving him his midnight dosage when she saw Sly walking in with Frederico. They didn't notice her as they had stopped to talk in the corridor. She didn't have any plans to eavesdrop on their conversation, not until she heard who the discussion was about.

The threshold between the hallway and the penthouse felt like a no-man’s-land—one that neither Sebastian nor Scarlett wanted to step into, but neither was willing to retreat from. Elena stood there, untouched by time in a way that was almost unnatural. Her hair, the same glossy chestnut waves, framed a face that had once been beautiful in a way that was dangerous still was. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and her eyes didn’t hide the satisfaction in seeing them both.

She was always in the headlines for something. I stood still, glass in hand, and listened. “Elena Scarlet has solved the death case previously ruled a suicide,” the reporter announced. “She has finally exposed the real killer — Rosa, a close friend of the late Gloria. Elena is currently unconscious but stable at the hospital.” “That’s not possible,” I muttered, frowning in disbelief. I grabbed my phone and dialed Kade. He picked up, “Hey man, what’s up?” he mumbled sleepily. “Did you see the news?” I asked.

The faint, flickering light cast long, dancing shadows against the rough-hewn stone walls as the small party moved in absolute silence through the forgotten veins of the capital. Elena walked in the center of the formation, her boots wrapped in thick, noise-dampening leather strips. Her dark-teal uniform was hidden beneath a heavy, fur-lined black travel cloak, but her hand remained rested firmly over her silver utility belt, ensuring the insulated glass transport tubes didn't clink together.

To Elena, the woman who polished the silver and ironed the Egyptian cotton, it was a stage. For months, Elena had moved through the rooms like a ghost. She was the invisible observer, a piece of living furniture that kept their lives frictionless. Evelyn was a woman of ice, a CEO who looked through Elena as if she were made of air. Elias, however, was different. He was a man of high-octane appetites, restless and simmering with a tactile energy that his wife's frigidity never quite met.

She zoomed in. The man in the coat was looking directly at the camera. It was Mark. The blackmailer. He had never been arrested. He had never gone to prison. Alexander had paid him to disappear. And he had. Until now. Elena set the phone down. Slowly. Carefully. She stood. Walked to the study. Opened Alexander’s desk drawer. The key was still there. She took it. Then she opened the small safe behind the bookshelf. Inside was another envelope.

Enough to keep her standing. The front hall was too bright after the hidden nursery, all chandelier light and polished marble, with rain blowing in through the open doors behind the officers. Cold air touched Elena’s damp skin. She knew what she must look like: pale, shaken, blouse creased, hair loose from running through a house full of secrets. Exactly how Vivienne wanted her. Celia looked perfect. Cream coat. Scarlet lipstick. Dark hair pinned neatly at the nape of her neck. Her folder was tucked against her chest like a blade.

Antonio’s face was serious, “She wants everyone watching.” And suddenly, I understood this wasn’t a social event, it was a battlefield. Only this time, there would be no guns, no weapons, no soldiers, just words. And in our world, words could destroy kingdoms. ELENA Elena stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her earrings. Everything about her appearance was perfect, her dress, her hair, and her smile. The image of someone who had never lost, but behind the reflection was a woman burning with anger. On the television screen in front of her, a news report played, Rachel Raphael, standing beside Matthew Kane. She hated the way people looked at Rachel with respect and admiration. Everything E