Countess Cleo Novels & Stories

Cleo’s hand slips into mine as she leans in to whisper, “Are you okay? You are hyperventilating.” I nod, unable to open my dry mouth and push words out of it. She gives my hand a strong squeeze and flashes me one of her gorgeous pearly white grins. Cleo is one of the most beautiful girls in our form. She has the ideal ballerina body: long and slender limbs, svelte torso, swan‒like neck and graceful posture. When she is in leotards and ballet shoes, you appreciate the careful work of art that she is. Ms. Azizen comments again and again on how Cleo becomes the dance.

I said. We have now arrived in front of her majesty’s glasshouse. The guard announced our presence, then told us to enter. I let go of Leo’s arms, then curtsied while Leo bowed down. “Greetings to the sun of the Empire, I am Clementine Whistleton, the daughter of Grand Duke Whistleton,” I said while curtsying. “And I am Prince Leo Isbert, the Prince of Frost Kingdom,” Leo said while bowing. ‘Lift your heads and sit down,” the empress said.

Soon, Cleo appeared wearing a long white dress, a trench coat, and high heels. She looked noble and elegant. She strutted into the main hall with a charming smile, bowed slightly to Leo Sainsbury who stood in front of her, and said, “Lord Leo, it’s been a while.” Leo's face was a little gloomy. When he saw Cleo, he squeezed out a smile and said, “Miss Cleo Lovelace, it’s nice to see you again.”

Cleo climbs out from the passenger seat, her eyes hidden behind a pair of oversized eyeglasses that make her look like she just got back from the beach. "Damn, Elle, " she cranes her neck up to look at the massive mansion towering behind me, letting out a low whistle, "I knew your man was loaded, but this is unbelievable." Her gaze drifts over the exorbitant building, awe and surprise mingling in her gaze as she takes in the view. "Cleo, can you stop eye fucking the building and give our friend a hug?" Cleo rolls her eyes, grinning from ear to ear, "Coming, coming" she says and pulls me into a tight, lavender-scented embrace.

Cleo’s smile vanished like a flame smothered by wind. She stepped in close—too close—and I could feel the temperature shift. The kind of shift that happens right before a storm breaks. “I helped him build this empire,” Cleo hissed, eyes locked on Isabella’s. “I hold his secrets. Know his sins. He bled for me. Fought for me. Would’ve razed entire cities if I whispered it. You think some fresh little face and a robe make you a queen?” “I don’t need a crown,” Isabella replied, chin tilting defiantly. “I am one. With or without your approval.”

I should have looked around; the only thing standing between me and the gorgeous blonde across was one of my sisters— Correct that, it was Cleo Katrera. Every year at the event, she showed up looking beautiful, as if she never went past nineteen. Cleo was tall, slim, with wavy dark hair and green eyes that could enchant a man, not me though, at least not anymore. "Hey," her voice came out soft. "Hey," I tucked my hands into my pockets, pressing my lips into a thin line. "It's been a while." "We see each other every year, Cleo," I told her.

i injected humor into my tone and sipped slowly at my coffee, keeping a trained eye on her. Upon searching her name and photos in the dark web it wasn’t hard to find out a lot about her. As a well-known assassin with a high kill count, Cleo was more like a celebrity in the circles of the underground. She was quite well known for her dalliances with wealthy men who delved into illegal businesses and used her as not just their lover, but a very resourceful weapon. Why was Mikael and Acker getting mixed up with her in the first place? I doubted she could be trusted.

I was about talking when Anita came over. "Hmm...What's going on here?" she asked Lexy putting her hand on lexy's shoulder. "Kelsi here is the daughter of our maid that was sent out of the house last month...." Lexy replied her, looking at me with disgust, ".... And she had the guts to lie to me, telling me her dad is abroad overseeing his business there" I felt ashamed of myself that moment. "Wait! What?" Now the whispering coming frim every corner was getting louder, some of the class mate were covering their mouth in shock, including Anita.

At night, the place felt unreal—a maze built on money, desire, and luxury. Roulette wheels rattled. Blackjack cards flipped in silence. Chips clinked nonstop. A baccarat table drew the biggest crowd. Most eyes locked on the woman across from the banker. She wore a fitted black velvet slip dress, slit high, pale ankles showing above silver stilettos. It was Cleo. Another round. She didn't even glance at her cards. Her fingertip tapped the table—raise. Smooth. Calm. Certain. The banker showed. Cleo flipped hers.

Surely he had a lot to say to her. Staying at Blakewood Manor, and then Tonfield hall had helped her to rediscover her. Time spent apart from her husband had helped her to put her anger and other similar feelings aside and see her life for what it was. The hand of fate had made her Countess. She was married to Cole, and that was all that matters. She was no longer, and would no longer be an old maid, and she would be damned before she let her husband refuse to acknowledge her. If he doesn't want to give her the recognition she deserves, By God! She would take it from him. And it matters not how she goes about it.