Beatrice Bartoni Novels & Stories

She quickly and politely withdrew her arm, and said to Antonia, "Excuse me." Antonia was still a little dazed.'s cold expression just now showed that he was not interested in her. But when it came to being a curator, her works, acting, and appearance, she did not lose out to Betty at all. How could this be? What kind of bewitching medicine did Betty give this rich boss? Betty and Bryson had only walked a few steps when they met another of her cooperating Female artiste, "Betty ..." She ran to greet her like a butterfly.

Only the ghost of truffle oil and aged balsamic—a luxury clinging to the air like a secret. Like this undisclosed meeting. Bernardo swirled the last of his Barolo. Rei di vini—the king of wines. Fitting. For he will be king in a few minutes. A sardonic smile graced his lips. But his gaze was distant. His mind was on a certain hotel near where he was. Across from him sat Beth. The daughter that was born from a business trip in America—before his marriage with Alessandro’s mother. Before his burning ambitions turned ruthless.

I try to take care of her at work and outside work, her husband does everything he can to keep her out of trouble. Norah pouts, and I pull her out of the kitchen until we're in a safe, quiet zone. She shows me a small vile wrapped in a silky napkin, watching with wide eyes to see my reaction. "What the hell is that?" I have to ask. She grins. "It's another poison to add to my collection. I finally got the belladonna extract," she explains. "Are you crazy?" I whisper-shout, looking around. "This is a restaurant! You have to stop bringing them here!"

he continued, enjoying how her irritation flickered into deep contemplation. Beatrice frowned, running through the endless list of possibilities in her head. It had to be a rival tycoon, an established name, perhaps an elusive but powerful designer. She ran through every person she had ever crossed paths with in the industry. Was it an old acquaintance? A foreign powerhouse? Certainly not someone insignificant. Certainly not... Her gaze flickered toward the main seating area, where Sarah had just taken her seat beside Liam Carrington, sipping champagne with an unreadable expression. She scoffed.

she said with a grin. “And, if I may add, the most dignified bachelor I have ever known.” Arturo let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s enough, Beatrice. Don’t make Her Highness uncomfortable.” Beatrice pouted slightly, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Why? I’m only stating facts,” she said innocently. “You’ve always been so picky with women before.” She tilted her head, glancing between them. “Although… I’ve just noticed the way you look at Her Highness,” Beatrice said boldly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I truly believe the two of you would make a wonderful match.”

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

“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.

Benita grinned secretly as she stared at Betty giving her sign. "We were just trying to say hi, but I didn’t know they were this rude" Betty whispered, as her voice trembled, attempting to garner support. The organizer's expression turned stern, his patience worn thin by their antics. "You are not worthy of their attention," he said firmly, his voice echoing through the hall. Betty drugged her well manicured nail as she stared at the organizer with hatred. "Leave now. You are no longer welcome," he added, his tone brooking no argument as he gestured to the exit.

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.