Beatrice Bartoni Novels & Stories

“Are you going to the S.I.N. as well?” “Oh, hey, Paolo. Yes, we are.” I answer, making Beatrice and Eleonora look at me questioningly. Pointing towards him, I flash them an awkward smile. “I work with him.” “Oh, so you are from Vespasiani territory?” Beatrice asks, crossing her arms as she steps closer to him. He nods proudly, and gestures to us. “Do you need a ride?” “Oh, hell yes!” Beatrice shouts, walking straight to the door.

In response to interested inquiries, the women began to describe some of their misadventures over the years and the table was noisy with conversation and laughter, but through his lens Luke didn't miss the moment when Bella waved off the wine and quietly asked for a glass of water instead. Bella turning down wine? She really must not be feeling well, he thought. "Beatrice is quite an artist," Ann continued. "Photography is her specialty. She had quite a show six months ago in a gallery in Canberra." Beatrice blushed. "It wasn't all that, really. But I am the official group photographer when we travel." "Finally," Ann said, "Tanya is a nurse. Last year, we were toasting the demise of he

"What do her eyes tell you? Can you see the same depth as in the more recent pieces?" My speech suddenly slowed down, then stopped completely. An elderly woman stood next to a waist-high altar with the ledger open, drawing a golden anchor with a black feather. "Who is she?" I asked, swallowing my pride. Luca stared at the portrait. "Lucia Bartuccio, one of our ancestors," he answered eventually. I gasped in shock. "La Signora Nera Bartuccio (the Black Lady Bartuccio)?" "Now I understand what you mean by the style not replicating reality," said Luca, letting out a quick chuckle. "She looks sweet and innocent on here when, in fact, she was a merciless banker."

It had been few weeks since they returned from Korea, everything back to normal. Tina returned to high school, and Mia also let go of her feelings for Cade. She wanted to start her life afresh. Beatrice had already named the boutique, it was called. "QUALITY'S COLLECTIONS". ***** Beatrice focused her gaze on her laptop as she stared at the financial records of the company. She wasn't working at her boutique, she hired a manager to look after it, she was working at her dad's company. As the CEO.

I knew that he would have had his reasons. Beatrice was the sexiest fucking thing that ever walked this planet. She stood about 5’10 with a slim waist and a well-endowed chest. She had beautiful chestnut hair that always had a styled messy look to it. She was even sexier unclothed after the auction as well as last night.

As if some part of him knew I was close to going off the edge. I envied him that brief escape. For a few hours, his mind could rest. While mine refused to. I could get the memory of Billie falling down the way she did. So I did the only thing I could. I opened the notes app on my phone and started a list. A desperate, foolish list of everything Billie still needed to experience before time ran out. Authentic Roman carbonara eaten at a tiny trattoria where the owner argued with customers. A gondola ride in Venice at dusk, the city lights reflecting on the water.

Monica says, looking at four women who, through fabric and freakouts, have becomes some of her best friends. “Me too,” Molly agrees. “Now what?” “I’m going back to France. I have a contract with House Corbin toncomplete,” Beatrice says, looking to Jacqueline for approval. Monica doesn't begrudge her winning the competition. She truly doesn't. And she thinks she will learn a lot at Jacqueline’s side, and hopefully, add some fresh blood to House Corbin’s designs. It was a good fit for them both Katarina grins. “I have been invited to Milan, set up with a studio of my own by a patron who wishes to remain anonymous.” Molly, with zero filter as always, asks, “How many feet pics did you have to se

Betty spat, her voice venomous, as her gaze lingered on the duo. Turning to her friend Benita, she smiled sweetly,as she masked her true intentions and said, "Why don't we greet them? They look lost," Betty suggested, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Benita understood Betty's intentions and shared a wicked laugh, their eyes locking in mischief. Together, they approached August and Lisa, with their intentions far from genuine. Meanwhile, the organizer's delay in introducing August prompted the crowd to resume their conversations, so no one was aware of her identity because she was a mystery.

They had spaghetti, fruit salad, and a cake with a candle shaped 18 on it. Ellaine was forced to speak just to break the awkward silence, “Auntie, a while ago I met a strange woman. Her name is Margarette.” “Margarette? I don’t know a woman named Margarette living in the neighborhood.” “Maybe that’s because she’s living near the city proper. She has this shop selling weird stuffs as well.” Ellaine was not interested in eating her spaghetti anymore. She was merely poking it with her fork. “What kind of weird stuffs?”

"She is yet to wake up. But according to the marks on her body, she has been under abuse for a long time. Others were still fresh." "It's like she had been whipped for a good number **of** years." The doctor said. "Do your best to make sure that she wakes up as soon as possible," Ashton said. "Yes, Alpha. We will do our best." Ashton waved his hand and walked towards the study room. Theo was following him. "What did you find out from your investigation?" "The girl's name is Maya Brown. She was saved by Mark Syden, the now alpha of wind winders pack." "What did you say her name was?" Ashton asked. He felt like he was hearing things.