Arabella Novel Novels & Stories

The interview was still live, and before Arabella could react, her name was already trending, accompanied by headlines that labeled her as an impostor, an ambiguous woman, playing both sides. "Arabella , damn it... what's wrong with Fernando?" Pandora murmured, nervous, looking around. A group of Eduard's female admirers, who until recently had been quietly enjoying their tea, stood up abruptly when they recognized her. "Arabella Hopkins !" one of them charged furiously. "Tell me, whose side are you on?" Arabella stood motionless, fighting to control her rage. "You're a whore! Having two men at the same time? If you mess with Eduard, you mess with us," another one snapped, raising her fis

Jasmine said. “The Alpha will know, and he will give me the ultimate punishment. I have to do it myself Jasmine,” Ariana paused. “I'll have to do it or he will take my son forever.” ***** BRAD This cannot be a coincidence, Arabella had never been to the Library lately, if she had, there's little chance she had chosen the book about the Monogroth. The painting staring back at me is more picturesque than the one in that book, almost as if it needs a breath to come to life.

Arabella sneers, “I suppose after a lifetime of being told you were sooo superior I’ll take any opportunity to disprove it.” “What are you talking about?” I hiss. “I don’t want to marry you, for you Bastien.” She announces sharply, “I want to marry you for your power: Nothing more.” “And you think this will make me agree?” I demand, brandishing the phone. “Why should I play into your hands when I could just kill you now?” “Because if you kill me, you’ll never find her.” Arabella grins, “I’m the only one who knows where she is. If I don’t go by to feed her and give her water, she and your unborn pup will die.”

That calmed me—at least there was no other trouble to worry about. Arabella, though… she floored me. Tall, her brown hair loose around her piercing grey eyes and wearing the most daring outfit I’d ever seen on her. A sheer embroidered top—no bra underneath—deep blue florals climbing across the fabric, paired with wide sweeping trousers and a fringed wrap. My jaw damn near hit the ground. “I’m a fashion designer, am I not?” she said, catching my stare. “Besides, soon I’ll be the size of an elephant, heavily pregnant. So I’m enjoying myself while I can.”

Cedric stood in the dim light of the suite, his gaze anchored on the woman who had just cracked open her soul and offered him a truth so raw, it left him winded. Arla-Rosa. Not Dr. Rosa. Not the distant miracle worker the world admired. Just Arla, his Arla-Rosa, the woman he had once broken without even knowing it. And yet, here she was, standing before him in soft moonlight, defiant even in her trembling.

Gregor replied and she smiled "Can I borrow one?" "It's not free anyway" Gregor said "Huh? How much?" Annabella asked "I'm not talking about money,you can take it now and I will tell you your price later" Gregor said "Thank you Mr Bells" Annabella said happily "Seems like you also love reading" Gregor said "Of course,I read anything...novels or anything" Annabella said "Then....have you read ROMEO&JULIET?" Gregor asked

“If you ever touch me like that again without my consent, I will destroy you. Team or no team. Season or no season.” “I know.” “And I still hate you.” “I know that too.” I heard him gather his coat. The soft sound of fabric. The quiet click of the door opening. His voice came one last time, low and final. “Sleep, Arabel. Tomorrow we skate. And the day after that. And every day until you decide whether you’re going to keep running or finally turn around and face what’s already yours.” The door closed. I stayed exactly where I was until the sound of his boots faded down the corridor. Then my legs gave out and I slid to the floor with my back against the desk, arms wrapped around my knees, fore

I poured myself a coffee and took a slow sip, letting the bitterness ground me. Women didn’t usually run from me. They stayed. They asked questions. They tried to use me, my name, my status, my influence to elevate themselves. They lingered, testing boundaries, seeing how much they could extract before they were asked to leave. Arabella hadn’t asked anything. She’d assumed the worst and still tried to make it right. Interesting. My phone buzzed less than twenty minutes later. “That was quick” I chuckled as I answered. “Arabella Hart”

"Mireya is his wife, and that is where the matter ends. You will not contact them to cause trouble again." A heavy silence descended on the room. Then, slowly, a malicious smile spread across Arabella’s lips. It wasn't a smile of acceptance or defeat. It was something entirely unhinged. "I don't think you understand me at all, Dad," she said softly. George’s expression hardened. "Then make me understand." Arabella tilted her head slightly, her grip tightening around her smartphone. "I am not done with her. Not yet." At that exact moment, her phone screen lit up the dim room with a bright flash. A new notification appeared. A message. She glanced down at the text, reading the brief update. An

She’s the reason and I feel excited to see her already. My plan on getting Arabella back hasn’t been the most effective these past few days, I was stuck in a place. I haven’t even gotten her to accept a proper gift from me and I wonder how long it would take for her to let us have a chat—I mean a real one where we talk about our relationship and what’s left of us. Though I haven’t made much progress from this that doesn’t mean I was backing out, Arabella isn’t like those women you can quickly give up on. She is a queen and a queen should be treated with respect even when she misbehaves.