Call Bianca Novels & Stories

Once she replaced Chika’s ghost in his mind, the Blackwell syndicate throne would be hers to command. Bianca glided down the grand staircase toward the lower tier, ordering the kitchen staff to pack a thermal container with premium blood-broth and rare boar cuts. Helena Whitmore looked up from her morning ledger, her sharp eyes taking in her younger daughter’s pristine appearance. “Are you deploying to a border negotiation today, Bianca? Your armor is exceptionally refined.” Bianca checked her lipstick in the reflection of a polished silver platter, her voice ringing with absolute confidence. “Do not fret over my movements, Mother. I am initiating a major acquisition. I will explain the deta

Bianca was ashamed of her former friend and they hadn't talked in months. Gulping down more and more of the vodka, Bianca wished that she could give Jake a taste of his own medicine, and getting revenge would clearly not be a problem. At barely eighteen, Bianca Reynolds was a living goddess. She had long, silky blond hair, soft, golden-tanned skin, and perfect, round breasts that could fill up any top.

119. Bianca stood in front of the big company building, her heart beating frantically in her chest. Her eyes ran over the company name: GLAM GIRLS ENTERTAINMENT. She had been able to get a job as a personal assistant to one of the celebrity models there.

Suddenly, Bianca's lips curve into a warm, welcoming smile. “Adrianna, isn't it? It's lovely to finally meet you,” she says, her voice fruity and melodious. “And you are…? Adrianna replies with a slight hesitation in her tone. “Bianca, Giovanni,” she answers. “I am the daughter of Alessandro Giovanni, the…..well you probably know. And I also happen to be a top model and a very dear family friend of Lance’s.” The other woman conveys the information with an air of casual confidence, as if listing off the virtues of a prized possession, and extends a manicured hand across the table.

I swallowed and tried to refocus on my work. No, no, no. You have to realize, Jaz. You're not here to fall for one of the dangerous men. It's for your mission. It's for your safety in your grandfather's hands. Bianca returned from the dressing room, now wearing even more revealing clothes. She looked at the handsome man. "There he is, the one I was telling you about!" she whispered excitedly.

And if he hadn’t flown off for a business trip, I wouldn’t even be here representing him at the M-Elite Grand Opening, its new alliance with X-ren, the biggest name in Italy owned by Lorenzo's family—he's now heading it. It was the perfect stage for my grand return. Liam wouldn’t see it coming. And Karen? She’d probably choke on her wine. A dark smile danced on my lips. Let them gasp. Let them stare. They thought I was buried with Camilla Ryder. Now… I rise as Giulia Bianchi-Vincent, and this time, I’m the nightmare they won’t wake up from because revenge is too simple, destruction is demure ...

"Hey kiddo. So he let you tag along after all huh? Rio de Janeiro is breathtaking. What little we have seen of it anyway," Billy said smugly. "Will. That's your sister, for goodness sake," said Bianca, Billy's wife, in the background. "Hi Olive. How are you?" Macy, Bianca's best friend, must not have told Bianca the details of her break up with Harmon yet, because Bianca was as cheery as ever.

Then, I picked up a rag to keep wiping down the counter. That night, Bianca suddenly went live. Her title was unhinged. [If I’m going down, I’m taking everyone with me. I’m going to show you all who taught me how to hurt her.]

"We've been expecting you." Francesca gives a brief nod just as a bright, enthusiastic woman hurries toward us, her smile wide and professional. "Good afternoon! You must be Miss Bianca Rossi." She extends her hand. "I am Catalina, your bridal consultant. It is a pleasure to meet you." I shake her hand. "Nice to meet you too." "We've prepared everything for your appointment," Catalina says cheerfully. "If you will follow me." She leads us through the elegant boutique until we reach a private fitting area.