Arabella Rose Novels & Stories

I’m about to send another response when I get a second text from her. ARABELLA: I have to go. Mrs. Darcy is now glaring at me. A small chuckle leaves my lips and I heart her message before I lock my phone and throw it back into my pocket. Arabella left Florida almost two weeks ago, and everything has been going well for us. She’s the sweetest and the most understanding person I’ve ever come across. I know she tells me many times not to think it, but I’ve never thought there could be a completely perfect person until Arabella—even her flaws are so perfect that they’re nonexistent to me. I can’t stop feeling lucky that I have her right next to me and it’s because of her that everything is alri

Is that why everyone assumes I'm Italian? I move on to the next one as fast as I could. 'Arabella Rossi grew up in Angel heart Orphan home in Florida.' They even managed to find out the Orphanage I grew up in? But I just told him yesterday. 'Arabella was seen most of the time with a girl name Amelia Jones; An Australian-' “What do you think you're doing?” A voice says causing me to look up.

Is it a coincident? ''With their warm, vibrant tones, orange roses symbolise enthusiasm and desire. If someone is looking for a way to express admiration and attraction—with an underlying message of passion and excitement, they'll send you a bouquet filled with these fiery blooms.'' She breathes out, smiling as she eyes each of the orange roses, ''I haven't seen him for quite some time, I'm not so sure if his interest has changed.'' ''I'm pretty sure they remain the same,'' I reply. She turns to me, ''It's beautiful how your name is Rose. Have you met my son, Elia?''

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.”

He gripped the edge of his desk tightly. No, It was not possible. Arabella was no longer there. She had allegedly gone on a private retreat, according to her family. For years, her phone was turned off, which made the press become disinterested. She had faded into quiet shame, everyone thought. Yet here she was on the first page. She had returned with more power and obviously became wealthy. Roman stood, twitching his fingers. He said, "I need her address." "Mister?" "I would like to know where she is staying with whom she is collaborating”. He replied with his voice calmed. “Everything”.

The dresser lets go of Arabella's hair to fetch a bottle of shampoo and seeing no one coming to her aid, the kid takes it as an opportunity to run. “Arabella Venus!” Mariella yells. Nova sighs, “Don’t yell at her, I told you to expose her to more stylists, now look how she acts with new people.” “Stop running,” Mariella tells her, rising from her seat along with Nova. Rose follows too, and I have to observe her triggers in this moment, she looks just about ready to cry over Mariella's daughter. “My eyes!” Arabella wails, still running from not only the hairdresser but also Nova and Rose.

“Which brings me to my favorite part of tonight.” “And that is?” “What we’re going to do about it.” Arabella didn’t answer immediately. Instead she stirred the olive in her martini with the little stick. Cressida watched her. “Oh don’t tell me you’re feeling generous.” Arabella lifted one brow. “Do I look generous?” “No. You look homicidal.” “Good. Honestly I thought we have succeeded in getting helping the universe make her disappear.” Cressida went very still clearly catching on to what Arabella meant.

But, on the second day, they took time off and went to a nightclub. Arabella wore a bloodthirsty red dress, with a generous neckline and opening on the sides. She was the personification of sensuality, or debauchery; that depended on the mind of whoever saw it. She had very little left to the imagination, as every line of her body was on display.

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.

He knew my sister’s wrath was inevitable, and there wasn’t much he could do to change that. Not this time. Finally, the bell rang, and Arabella shrieked in delight, her little hands clasping mine. “Please, please let me open it!” she begged, her eyes wide with excitement. I chuckled and nodded. "Go ahead, baby." Arabella flung the door open with such enthusiasm that I thought she might tear it off its hinges. Standing there was my sister, Rose, looking as stunning as ever. At 5'8", with light brown hair that cascaded down her back in waves and a glowing, athletic build, she could have passed for a model. But instead of being intimidating, her warmth radiated as she leaned down to greet Arabe