Belle Da Costa Greene Mother Novels & Stories

– Smantha’s POV – The gala’s lights glowed soft, the music a low hum as I stood frozen, staring at Mrs. Bellamy. Dalton’s grandmother. She looked elegant like I remembered, her silver hair in a tight bun, her dark green dress flowing, her cane steady in her hand. Her sharp eyes softened when they met mine, and my heart twisted again.

she says, her tone mocking. “Listen, Celia,” I say, stepping closer. “I know you don’t like me, but I’m not leaving without seeing my son. Please.” She rises from her chair, tall and imposing, her presence filling the space. With her perfectly coiffed white hair and elegant posture, she looks every bit the matriarch of the Bell family. A former beauty queen, an heiress to one of the country’s largest oil companies, Celia has always made it clear that I am beneath her.

Zach Campbell speaks out as they both exit the area. Abi had her heart in her hands as Belle might have been busted if she were a second late, this must surely be a sign that the moon goddess was by her side. Throughout lunch, Zach had eyes on Belle, making her uncomfortable, yet she never allowed his piercing gaze to affect her motions. “Thank you, Mr. Campbell, for such warm hospitality,” Belle appreciated the old man, as it was eventually time to leave. “I owe all appreciation towards D’Monroe INC and the boss Gail Spark, it is indeed a pleasure for this cooperation,” Graig extends his appreciation showcasing his brown sets of broken teeth.

A sleek silver luxury sedan was parked neatly in front of the Watson family home. Belle, who had just come down the stairs, froze the moment she saw who was sitting in the living room, calmly sipping Earl Grey from the cup her mother had served. Renee. Mr. Carlyle’s daughter. She was wearing an elegant ivory dress, her hair styled perfectly in soft curls. Across from her, Mr. Watson sat stiffly, though his face forced a polite smile that Belle rarely saw from him.

A woman in a sheer white gown went down on Bryan, her hair disheveled. Bryan closed his eyes to enjoy the moment. They were too into it to realize my presence. I recognized who it was right away.

One Hour Later Bella was sitting in front of the dressing table in her room. At this time she was completely alone in the room and she was completely ready for the party. Bella wore a sleeveless V-Neck gown of emerald green color. There was also a matching green stole with it. Wore an emerald necklace around her neck and emerald earrings in her ears. She had a diamond bracelet in her hand and her hair was curled and left open. And the most special is Bella's gray eyes.

" Mum, do you really need to get me a personal slave? I already have a maid," The Princess of the Blazzing Red Moon pack, Belle, who was also the only child of Emilia and Scott, pouted in a cute manner. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to convince her mother she didn't need a personal slave. " I know what am doing dear, just trust me," Emilia held her daughter's left hand and showed her an assuring smile.

At the very least, my mother did not transform me into a twisted melon in need of plastic surgery. "You …" "Wills Waltson doesn't want you," she replied arrogantly, sizing up Belle Enderson. What's the point of bothering me? He chased me so closely, I haven't decided to accept him yet." Belle Enderson realized the significance of her words and became enraged, causing her heart to shake. She raised her hand as if to strike her. But she held onto Belle Enderson 's wrist. She shook Belle Enderson 's hand off: "I'll say it again, I'm called Luna , not Elizabeth Greenwich . If you want to bully me, first wipe your eyes clean, Belle Enderson , if you piss me off, we will go to hell together."

Mother, on the other hand, brought a natural warmth to the scene. “Oh Anastasia, lovely to see you again” Mother said as she hugged a young lady who moved with a quiet confidence, her posture perfect and head held high. She was dressed in a sleek black gown that clung to her frame like a second skin, the soft material catching the dim light of the porch. Her long, dark hair was pulled back, revealing a striking face with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. But it was her eyes that stopped me cold. They were like nothing I’d ever seen before—a rare mix of green and gold that shimmered under the soft glow of the chandelier. They caught the light just right, shifting like molte