Beatrice Bartoni Novels & Stories

Bye. — Bye. She said goodbye to Celeste. Alicia, excited, went to the supermarket to buy what she would make for dinner. She was thinking of making spaghetti bolognese, Gabriel's favorite food, so when she got home she set about preparing dinner with great enthusiasm and, once it was ready, she prepared to take a long bath. She dressed in a black nightgown that she had in her underwear; it had been a long time since she had dressed like that. She remembered one night when she put it on to surprise her husband, but he stopped her and said:

The supreme dark-priest asked. “I will.” Veronica said with pride hinted on her voice. “Will you honor the duty and responsibilities that it will take you to be Queen, and do you do so willingly take this crown as yours?” The supreme dark-priest once again asked. “I will, and do so willingly what it takes to be Queen.” Veronica answered once more. “Then I declare you,” the supreme dark-priest said and she place the crown on the top of Veronica’s head, “Veronica Lorraine Glaiza Elizabeth Vane, The Queen of Dexo Fernia.” The crown was placed above Veronica’s head.

I'm sure I look mortified as I stand up, "Hi, my names Bec and I'm from Livingston" I look around the room as I speak. It's hard not to notice all the kids giving each other pointed looks. "Well hello Bec it's so nice to meet you darlin, you can take your seat again," her thick Texas accent is almost too overwhelming for me. Luckily, she launches straight into the class without any further questions. I pretend to follow along while subconsciously doing little drawings around my book, trying my hardest not to think about the boy with raven hair.

Damian pulled a chair for me and we both sit across Tito and his sister with Aubrey next to the woman. She smiled at me. “Hello, hija. I am Beatrice. Albert’s older sister.” Is tand up to offer my hand. “Hello, Miss Beatri—“ “No, no, just Tita.” Tito, who is sitting just across me smield while wtchingD amian and I. I silently look at Damian and saw him seriously sitting ebsoide me so I bit my lip. What the hell is wromg with him? “We have already ordered our foods and it would be served ina few, Dionne hija, would you want yo add something?”

she said, leaning in for a cheek-to-cheek greeting. “And you as well, Tita Rita.” Beatrice removed her oversized Gucci glasses, slipping them into her clutch. “Forgive me for being late,” she added smoothly. “I had to take care of a ruckus in Dad’s casino.” Rita waved a dismissive hand, her rings catching the light. “It’s all right, dear. Now that you’re here, I want you to look at this album.”

Anything! “How do you know that though? Beatrice was always jealous of any women you had been seeing and Michael was lusting after her. Who’s to say that this wouldn’t have happened regardless of you developing feelings for her?” Bart shot back. Maybe… But either way, I have to own this guilt. There’s no way I can let her take that blame. Not even a shred! “Okay, stay here.” He said going into a side room. Bart came out of the side room several minutes with several scalpels. He placed two handfuls of gauze on a tray in addition to the bottle of the remaining Hypoxinate one.

"Back in your territory." Beatrice is an omega. They're shunned by society and can't hold any titles unless they're raised to the position of a gamma or beta. Here in the palace, they do the jobs no one wants to do — clean, scrub, help royals with chores they're quite capable of doing on their own.

He had my name, my fortune, and my legacy ahead of him. The intercom buzzed, breaking the silence. "Mr. Thorne, I'm so sorry, but your sister-in-law is here. She... she didn't have an appointment, but she's already past the desk." Before I could answer, the heavy oak doors swung open. Beatrice walked in, looking like a high-end assassin in a dress that was little more than a whisper of crimson silk. It was cut dangerously low, her heavy tits practically spilling out with every step she took. She didn't look like a woman here for a family visit; she looked like a woman here to stake a claim.

Beatrice had no idea when she started tearing up. “Hey hey, don’t you dare shed any tears!” Ri scolded. Bea tried her best to stay put, knowing how much effort her best friend put into making her look so good. But she knew that Rita was right! She had no time to mingle or party because she was always busy, working, and had a very good heart, enough to take care of her parents and pay off their debts and even give freely to her close pals. The dress was just a reminder that she hardly bought stuff for herself.

Whatever this was about, I didn't have the energy for it, not tonight, not when I could still feel Camille's heat on my skin, still taste her on my tongue. "It's about Camille, I think Ronald Barone should really work on that daughter of his" My jaw tightened. "Why? What about her?" Beatrice's perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. "You really didn't notice?" "Notice what?" I kept my voice level, even though something dangerous was coiling in my chest. "How she dressed tonight." Beatrice set her clutch down on the console table with deliberate care. "That dress was completely inappropriate and slutty, honestly, did you see the slit? The neckline? She might as well have shown up naked."