Adventures Of Isabel Novels & Stories

ISABELLA’S POV I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, exhaustion pressing down on me like a physical weight. But I hadn’t done anything. Not really. I had spent days locked away in this room, barely stepping out except when I absolutely had to. I had healed unnaturally fast. I had seen things—felt things—that didn’t make sense. And now, I was just… tired. My limbs ached like I had run a marathon, even though all I had done was sleep, pace, and battle the confusing thoughts in my mind.

And he was eager to find out what it was. Isabel's sobs slowly began to subside, replaced by ragged gasps for air. She looked up at Sebastian, her eyes blazing with a fierce anger, but also with a deep sadness, "I wished you'd died in that accident," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "I wished that you'd died and I've never met you." Everyone except Zachary were confused, as they stared at the both of them. The triplets were hungry from answers, while Madam Magdalene was trying to console Isabel.

“I know Maximilian, he is an extremely manipulative and cruel man. I wouldn't be surprised if he had threatened his own son, but that doesn't necessarily mean that Maximo will go through with the plan. A spark of hope ignited Isabella's heart. Despite the distrust, a small part of her, the one who was still in love with Maximus, began to doubt her fears. "Mrs. Collins, I must go..." Isabella broke free from Marian's grasp, her heart pounding. "Tonight, I'm going on a trip abroad..." "Are you leaving?" Marian looked at her puzzled. “And Maximo? "He already knows. I asked for his support to go to study; It was the quickest way I could find to escape his plans. Isabella explained calmly.

“This is Isabella’s real record. Four abortions, caught cheating in casinos seven times, and suspected of selling arms routes from three families. Her child, no matter whose, shouldn’t ever be born.” I looked at the file and suddenly laughed. “Silas, Father told me a consigliere shouldn’t interfere in family violence.” “That’s true,” he said, kissing my forehead. “But it’s a man’s duty to protect his fiancée.” Three days later, news came from Colombia. Isabella accidentally triggered a landmine on the farm. She was blown to pieces, along with her precious child. After kneeling at the blast site all night, Theo requested to return to Sicily the next day.

The voices from the room have seized now, making me realize they’ve heard me. “Isabel!” My father’s voice set my nerves on edge. I was done for. I tried to flee but Gabriel spread his arms out, trapping me in. Nothing like a good beating to end the already stressful night. With a smirk, Gabriel moved me to the side and opened the door, presenting me to father. I took a deep breath and stared at the floor, too scared to look at them. I stumbled when Gabriel pushed me not so gently inside the room but I didn’t dare utter a word.

She ignored him, running faster until her lungs burned, her breath coming in sharp, uneven pants. Isabel ran the whole way, her shoes slapping against the pavement, lungs burning. She didn’t care who saw her or what anyone thought. Her hands trembled as she reached Mercy’s door, pounding on it hard. “Mercy!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “Mercy, open the door!” The door flew open. Mercy blinked in shock, a towel still in her hand. “Isabel? What the hell is going on?” “I need them,” Isabel panted, brushing past her and heading straight for the children. Mia and Zack looked up from the floor where they had been playing. “Come on, we’re leaving,” she said quickly, grabbing their little hands.

“But I feel like I’m coming back from another life.” That is precisely what she is doing. The woman who left was Isabella Romano, captured and betrayed. The woman returning is Isabella Volkov, mother, wife, and sovereign of this new world. The scars are permanent, but the identity is new, unyielding, and whole.

I knocked and entered the room. Isla was laying unconscious on the bed. She was beautiful, with long black hair and bright green eyes (when they were open). Her petite frame, with perfect curves. Looking small and frail with her wounds and deathly pale, I silently wished for her recovery. She had a black eye and cut on her temple. Lacerations covered her back and stab wounds covered her torso. The tiny pin pricks covered her body from the Iron Maiden, already healed. I watched as Cumina stitched up her wounds.

**FLASHBACK** Isabella sat on one of the wet cartons on the bus. Still crying, she was feeling nauseous and stinking in her blood stained clothes, she cleaned the tears off her face from time to time but it still gushed down uncontrollably. No one could have thought that such a huge calamity could befall a happy pack like hers, not to talk of what happened on the day of her celebration. Her entire pack was murdered, her parents gone, two of her brothers brutally killed and her virginity was taken in the most cruel way and now she and some other kids were being abducted to only God knows where and what they were used for..

I breathed out a laugh and shook my head. “Thank you, Denzel, and ….” using my head, I gestured to the girl, who had just been standing there smiling softly at us. “Ah…” he pulled her to himself, “this is Cara, she is my adventure partner, but unlike me she travels for work as a photographer.” “Oh! Cara, Hi” I stretched my hand but she pulled me into a hug instead. “It's nice to meet you, Isabel. Denzel told me about you and it's nice to meet you.”