Arabella Ship Novels & Stories

PRESENT * Arabella tried her best not to cry in front of him after learning that he was getting married to that model. She was already getting frustrated with the coincidence that she observed after drawing a 3D star. She wanted to destroy his whole room in anger, but instead, she walked out only to hear his parents discussing when to tell Wylder about his marriage with Tiara. The next thing she knew, she ran back to the room and destroyed every single thing that she felt would be useless or could be fixed.

Shadow for the first time ever began to whisper in my mind, urging me to uncover the truth. Without hesitation, I stepped forward, my question aimed at my mate, but my eyes locked on her mysterious ‘friend’. "Arabella," I called out, my words catching her off guard. "What is happening here? Who is this?" I demanded to know as my hand wrapped around her wrist. Arabella's eyes met mine, terror and relief flickering within them. Confusion hit me until I found the man kneeling before her. I have to," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You have to trust me. This... this has to be done."

Mother trails off, memories of seven years ago racing through her as she blinks back the tears threatening to flow down her eyes. “I'm so sorry to hear that…” “It's fine,” Mother interrupts. “What's the name?” “Bella. Bella Portillo.” “Japanese?” “American.” “Are you married?” She demands, and I shift uncomfortably, hoping she reads the message. Arabel let out a light smile before replying. “No, I am not.” Silence ensues as they both watch each other. I am about to break the awkward silence when she suddenly says. “My birthday is in two days, I would like to invite you. Will you come?”

Arabella: Javier Ramirez was the kind of man you didn't want showing up at your doorstep because when he did, it meant trouble. I was in trouble. I'd taken money from him. It was a desperate, reckless decision that kept me afloat. If he was here now, it meant a year had already passed and he was here to get back his money. "Won't you let me in, amor?" He asked smoothly, his thick Spanish accent unmistakable. His voice was laced with something that sent a shiver down my spine.

Shame filled her, but still her gaze returned to the male at the table. The man was beautiful he had dark hair, sculpted features, perfectly shaped lips that any woman would have killed for, yet on him they were sinfully masculine. He was beyond handsome. Arabella had met many handsome men in her life, but her body had never reacted like this. Moisture pooled between her thighs, dampening her panties. Her nipples hardened, rasping the cotton of her camisole. Her mouth watered. She swallowed. Control yourself! She said to herself, What are you doing?

She looked around to make sure that no one is watching them. Arabella tried to run away but she grabbed her arm and yanked her back. She thrashed in the hold. "Mom, please leave me... Please!" She cried but her little heart screamed horrified when she was thrown down from the heel. Arabella fell into deep water and struggled, her tiny lungs started burning in salty water. Her struggles died down as blackness took over. Egon took a deep breath like he was trying to control his anger. "How did you ended up with Rancho?"

“Believe what you want, Lucas. It’s not my problem.” “I do not believe you,” Lucas growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. Antonio shrugged and tossed a tablet onto the table between them. “Believe what you will. I don’t care.” Lucas’s hand trembled as he picked it up. Grainy footage began to play. There she was. Arabella. Her long hair had been cut short, but he would recognize her anywhere. She stood trembling, appearing to plead for her life. A gunshot rang out. Her body jerked violently before she went overboard, disappearing into the dark sea.

(Italian Translation: You are a masterpiece. “Arabella is my new personal assistant. Arabella, this is my cousin, Aurora.” He introduces. “Nice to meet you.” I say trying to get my face back. “Oh, sorry Arabella.” “Aren't you supposed to be in Los Angeles?” He asks, pushing her out of his office and leaving me there. From the conversation, I understood Mr. Varallo's female employees are not actually female employees. They are easy ways for him to get a hook up which explains why he won't stop giving me attention. I wonder what happens to them afterwards. He probably just uses them for the mean time.

Arabella merely pursed her lips, barely noticeable to Marco. "It seems she's not that foolish after all," Arabella mumbled under her breath. "Did you say something?" Marco asked, causing Arabella to shake her head. "No, you'd better instruct your servants and men to search for Letta. You wouldn't want anything to happen to that woman, especially with the baby she's carrying," Arabella said, prompting Marco to nod.

No husband. No child. No home. Just a burden once again being delivered back to her parents like unwanted luggage. The carriage finally slowed before the grand Hamilton townhouse. Tall iron gates stood open while servants hurried through the rain carrying umbrellas. Arabella stared at the familiar home with quiet dread. She had once dreamed of escaping this place. Instead, she had returned more humiliated than before. The footman opened the carriage door carefully. “My lady.” Arabella stepped down slowly, lifting the dark skirts of her mourning gown to avoid the puddles beneath her feet.