Beatrice Bartoni Novels & Stories

“Your father is still an ‘Untouchable’.” “But Thea and her family aren’t.” “What do you mean?” Manfredi asked again. “Papà, Thea’s real name is Beatrice… She is Luca Palladino’s eldest daughter,” Damiano said bluntly.

I was fully aware that Marcus would never have intervened with this level of volatile protection if Beatrice had been the sibling standing in this kitchen. Beatrice possessed a sharp, calculating social intellect; she operated with a strategic prowess that kept her entirely insulated from emotional devastation. She never invested herself in serious entanglements and maintained absolute mastery over her personal boundaries during social exploits. Members of the opposite sex invariably succumbed to her effortless allure, while simultaneously treating my existence as though my very presence on the planet was an annoying inconvenience.

“That’s fine, and I’m sorry. But I think you were very brave for taking responsibility.” “Thank you,” she said, rising back to her feet. I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was the reason behind why she was so guarded. I could dig deeper and find out, but out of respect for her privacy, I wouldn’t. Maybe one day she’d trust me enough to tell me herself. “What is next on my schedule?” “You have an appointment with Sir John in three hours, and after that, you have another with someone who calls herself The Baroness?” The Baroness, aka, Beatrice was a business associate of mine. Since the Callister’s fortune had been invested in numerous clean businesses, I’d been dealing with a lot more bu

She was simply surviving the war he started. ​Bettoni served him a glass of expensive wine laced with a paralytic herb which he accepted giddily. "You always loved the Alpha's wine, Bryant," Bettoni smiled as his eyes widened in terror. "Drink up."

And as Jamie sat, staring at her, puzzled by this change in topic, Bianca stretched her hand and said, “Barry’s old lady Sylvie makes the best Bistecca alla Fiorentina” And as Jamie opened her mouth to contest the claim, Bianca laughed and lifted her hands in surrender, “Yes, I know, I know! Not as good as your Mumma’s I’m sure. No one can come up to Proserpina Delano, is what I’ve heard.” Jamie nodded, bursting with pride as she realised how talented her Mumma was. She trooped behind Bianca, who was chattering away and soon, even before she realised it, Jamie was answering in enthusiasm.

Beatrice could not contain her irritation anymore, she stood up and slammed the table. "Look, owning a business is already an achievement, if you are a team manager, how can you belittle someone who owns a company?, another thing, I prefer character over money, don't ask as if I am after money!" She coldly said, it made everyone silent, but not Diego who became more furious, Beatrice just humiliated him just to defend Marcus!

“Fine! Mother. You know it is her that will be happy only. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself!” Beatrice went out of the cubicle and examined her face in the mirror. She had bruises on her cheeks and a bandage on her forehead. Even her lips were bruised. Though, she was confident that whoever that man will still want her. Beatrice has gray eyes that she takes from her mother. Her hair was a long and natural blonde. She also has freckles on her cheeks and on her nose bridge. Her skin was fair and had a slim body. She does have suitors but she never entertains anyone because of her stepmother. Plus, she was more focused on building her career than having a boyfriend.

Lord Niklaus said to have Beatrice nod. The Lord of Viscoria stood up and left the table, whispering some words with the Lord of Bathon. They seemed close. Beatrice thought as she ate her bread silently. Biting her bread in peace, she felt a pull on her dress, and then came a hit. Beatrice glared down at her sister's leg that was poking her down the table. The girl was a nuisance and a troublemaker. Just as Beatrice was about to raise the tea to her lips, another hit came making the tea pour on her dress.

Beatrice Thorne wore a black velvet gown with a high collar. Her silver hair was pinned into a flawless chignon. Around her neck hung what looked like a heavy diamond necklace, though not as heavy as the intimidating aura she exuded. She did not look at them right away; she was cutting a small piece of meat with terrifying precision. “Sit down, Mavric,” Beatrice’s voice sounded like grinding ice. “And you… Liora White. Sit far away from my son.” “I want to see your face clearly.” Mavric did not obey that order.

“This is the second time you’ve made a sexist comment. Do I need to explain to you how outdated your thinking is, or would that be too advanced for your intellect?” Her tone was calm, but the fire in her eyes was unmistakable. She crossed the room with deliberate confidence and perched on the arm of my chair without hesitation, completely ignoring me. Her focus was entirely on Nitta, who for once looked caught off guard. I leaned back, keeping my expression neutral, though I couldn’t deny the faint flicker of amusement. Watching Nitta—cocky, insufferable Nitta—squirm under Beatrice’s glare was unexpectedly satisfying. “What do you think women are? Shelf decorations?” she demanded, her words