Beatrice Bartoni Novels & Stories

Listening to another girl say something about Precious was something I couldn't handle, I knew where this conversation would lead to if I let it happen. She smiled and nodded, "Sorry if you took offense handsome, I am Beatrice, the daughter of Bob O'Reilly, the CEO of O'Reilly Enterprise. I am a girl as you can well see, " she paused, looking down on her laps before she picked up again, "I had always wanted to be a fashion designer, own my brand, and even own a conglomerate that had shoe and bag brands but instead I studied Business just so I could take over from my father. To cut the long story short, during my mother's funeral after she died, a woman and her three children attended the fun

The butler opened the door and let me in before stepping in and closing the door behind him. “È qui Signor Rocco.” (she is here Sir Rocco.) the butler said standing in front of me facing the large table that demarcated us from the sturdy-looking figure who stood facing the window in the large office holding a glass of what seemed like rum. He raised his right hand as a signal to the butler to leave and he did almost immediately.

Carmelo silently walked beside me. Vittoria De Babesy was an iconic Italian fashion designer. She simply dominated the fashion world for years now, and she wasn’t anywhere near stopping. While Leonidas Moretti, her swoon-worthy fiancé, was a jewelry mogul. Utterly in love with Viva, and always showering her with custom jewelry and other unthinkable surprises. They were a perfect pair if you’d asked me. Their love was admired by almost everyone. Even I, who didn’t believe in it.

Everything about her screams attractiveness. "Tay, this is Clyde Dante and Beverly Carington. They're the people who designed the Harvest. This is my wife, Taylor." He introduced us to his wife. I shook her hand so was Clyde. "It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Hastington." I smiled. "Oh.. don't be so formal, you can call me Taylor." She said as she sat down across me. "But Mr. Dante.. I'm glad that you took over this project because I don't like Peter's style of design. I mean.. his design is modern but somehow it doesn't suit my taste alog with my dad's."

he said and took out fries. I laughed. "Chill, Neri. You're too aborted by that." "Hi Elena, Neri!" We both looked at Peter and Shawn. We were classmates who were also classmates in high school. I waved at them. Neri faked a smile. "Your smile is obviously fake." She ate fries again. "What now? They don't know, anyway. You're the only one who notices so it's okay." "I don't know about you." In the middle of the conversation my eyes caught the entrance of Beatrice Vasquez. She's from the higher batch. A daughter of a famous socialite. I've seen her in some social gatherings for the past months. Their family is in the fashion industry because they own a clothing company.

Beatrice’s voice filled with shame "I turned to Dario he gave me what I needed. The pills, the powder, the escape" Her lips trembled harder "But I couldn’t pay him back, the debt kept growing, thousands, Rosie. I owed thousands. I lied to you, I had been in Italy for over a year and when things got bad, i came to you to house me" Rosalie’s stomach churned. Beatrice finally lifted her gaze, her eyes hollow, desperate "He gave me one way out, just one"

She was wearing a high-collared knit dress, the fabric stiff and abrasive against the fresh mark on her neck—the one Damian had left only hours before in the dark of her apartment. Beatrice Cross sat at the head of the mahogany table, her silver hair pulled into a bun so tight it seemed to stretch the skin of her forehead. She was a woman built of sharp angles and cold reputations, and her eyes hadn't left Aria since she had walked into the room.

he adds in the end, gazing at me softly. My cheeks burn at his gentlemanly behaviour and I forget to gulp down the liquid that I have in my mouth. "How caring," says Bella, Nash's wife, in a low voice but I heard it somehow. When I secretly try to sneak a glance at Grace, I find her smirking. That all leaves me flushed and I try to find my voice. "Thank y-you. I'll take care of it," I say, tugging a strand of my hair behind my ear. I bite my bottom lip and see that the ladies are smiling at us.

Seraphina said. Beatrice looked toward the dark windows. “I met him once.” “Where?” “In Halcyon.” Lucian sat at last. Not because his anger had faded. Because the truth had become too large to face standing. “Who are you?” Seraphina asked. Beatrice returned her gaze to her. “My full name is Beatrice Elena Ward.” “I know your name.” “No. You know the one I kept.” “What does that mean?” “My birth records identify me as Elena Ruiz.”

" I smiled at her, and Alessandro pulled out my chair for me to sit down; I took a quick glance at Alessandro's father, and he gave me a subtle wink. Shit! I ignored his wink. Alessandro sat down in the seat next to me placing his hand on top of mine for reassurance. "Cassandra, this is my mother, Bianca," He spoke, and she leaned her hand out for mine across the table. "Nice to meet you, dear," She spoke in her Italian accent. She was a beautiful woman, I don't get why her husband constantly cheated on her. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your fiancee, my son?" Alessandro's father spoke up, taking a sip of the whiskey he had in his glass.