Anne Sophie Novels & Stories

SOPHIA'S POV I'm Princess Sophia Monteverde, 15 years old. I’m now in third year high school. My parents are Paul and Sarah Mendez. I know it's weird that I have a different surname from my own parents but I can't do anything about it. Other people also got curious about why my surname was different from my surname. My parents said that the nurse just made a mistake. I said we should just fix it but they don't want to and I don’t even know why.

She proclaimed herself dead because she did not have the nerve to face anyone right now. "Uncle Eliphas, I just woke up not long ago," Ashton said. He was not embarrassed at all at Elipha's teasing. Looking at the little bump on the head, Ashton smiled dotingly and even his gaze was filled with the urge to spoil rotten the person hiding under the covers. "How do you feel? Are you having any discomfort anywhere?" Eliphas asked with a concerned voice. Although by the looks of things, he knew that he had nothing to worry about.

“Nathan Hale. An Investment Strategist. Very smart. Very sharp and Very annoying.” I blinked. “Annoying?” Sophie let out a small laugh. “Yes. He thought he could talk down to me just because I work at a cafe. So, Of course, I had to set him straight.” I couldn’t help but smile. “of course, you did.” Sophie and her weird taste in men. I thought she wanted to rant about the guy and now she souding like a small girl who has a crush. Then “But,” She added. “He’s something…but something seems off about him.”

Nothing was going to cut it. She was going to have to try another approach. Sophie removed her cardigan and top, revealing small breasts cradled in a simple white bra beneath. The pants came next, and she stooped over to pick them up and fold them, placing them in the hamper in her closet. A pair of white panties matched her bra, the back of it hugging the tight, round outlines of her ass. Sophie was a slender girl, but she had enough curves where they counted. Many girls had bigger breasts than she did, but what she had was cute and just enough to have fun with. Instead of mature, she was girlish. Innocent. Pure. To Sophie, her appearance added to the fantasy. The thought of giving her youn

"Trust me. Get your shoes." An hour later we were standing inside the boutique and Sophia was in absolute heaven. High ceilings and sleek white walls and racks of carefully chosen things arranged by color, soft music overhead and the whole place smelling like expensive perfume. She immediately started pulling things off the racks with the focused efficiency of someone who had been planning this mentally for the entire drive over. She held up a short red dress and I looked at it and looked at her. "Sophia. That's quite short." She rolled her eyes. "I'm eighteen, Annie. Not twelve."

As his mother said, she was not qualified to be his girlfriend, but Sophie was in a depressed mood and wanted to hear his voice. But no one answered the phone... Sophie slept soundly until Jane called her to have dinner at 7 o'clock in the evening. Sophie looked at the old lady in the middle of the table. She was always a little afraid of the old lady in her heart, and respectfully called, "Grandma." Lady Jones didn't even look at her, but just said lightly, "Let's eat." Sarah suddenly smiled kindly and said in an ambiguous way, "Sophie, you are 22 years old this year. Although it is important to work and make money, finding a suitable man to marry is the real thing."

The sun had begun to dip behind the skyline, spilling golden light into the living room and casting soft shadows across the floor. Nathan was finally drifting off for his afternoon nap in the nursery, and for a moment, there was quiet. A rare, precious kind of quiet. I sank onto the edge of the sofa, allowing myself a brief exhale. Then the knock came. A light rap on the front door followed by one of the staff peeking into the room. “Ma’am, a Miss Sophie is at the door. She says she has an appointment with Mr. Lysander.” Sophie. The name alone stiffened something in me.

Her chest tightened, a knot of old wounds and fresh resentment forming the moment she saw her. Sophia. She stood at the foot of the bed, a vision of carefully curated elegance. Clad in an elegant cream coat that seemed too formal for a hospital, her dark hair was perfectly coiffed, not a strand out of place. Her makeup was flawless, a mask of composed beauty that betrayed nothing of true emotion. In her perfectly manicured hand, she held a small, pristine bouquet of white tulips, their purity a stark contrast to the veiled intentions in her eyes.

Sophia asked, oblivious of how flustered I was. Sophia is in her early twenties with striking features. She has a straight nose, an oval-shaped face, fair skin, and a beauty mark on the right side of her nose, thick dark glossy hair pin straight cascading down her waist like a waterfall, she dyed the tip blonde to indicate a bet she lost to Theo. Her almond-shaped eyes and very dark brown eyes held confidence and shone with mischief, she always stood tall at 5'6. "With your parents." I managed to respond.

We wouldn’t change him for the world even if he is a little hell raiser. Then six months ago, Sophie gave birth to our daughter Anna, named after Sophie’s mom. She is such a beauty. She has the same hair colour as Junior and again my eyes. Another surprise. Sophie was convinced that I took Hound’s advice about hiding her birth control, but I didn’t. It is definitely destiny for her to be caught twice while on birth control. So Sophie decided there was no point in taking it anymore. Life has been hectic for us both. Sophie has been training and fighting, and she has made a damn good career out of it. The club has backed her all the way. I mean, of course we would. I am the president of the cl