Encanto Isabela Madrigal Novels & Stories

The gentle wind caressed her face. “Seems like I’ve found you again,” the masculine voice of Enrique sounded behind her. Maria turned to him rapidly. Tears stuck in her eyes. Heavy steps approached her. “You’ve changed so much, Isela, my love.” “Don’t ever dare to touch me!” Through clenched teeth she told him to not come any closer. Enrique smiled. “Now Stefan’s girlfriend? Maria Fernanda de la Fuente? What does it mean?” “Means ‘stay away from me’”

Others looked outright panicked. Ximena stood at the head of the long table, her chin lifted, her emerald blouse crisp beneath a tailored blazer. She was elegant under pressure. Across from her stood **Isabela Reyes**, cool and unshaken, dressed in muted navy. Her hands rested lightly on the folder in front of her. Camila’s locket shimmered around her neck. “Thank you all for your time,” Isabela began, her voice smooth. “I come before you not as an enemy—but as blood.”

If I could see myself right now, I can say I resemble a ripe tomato because of how red I am. “Ms. Cattleya?” A voice that called my name brought me back to reality. I looked for where it came from and saw an elderly lady dressed in a maid's uniform. “Uh… Are you Madam Elsie?” I politely asked as she gently approached me. “You got the right person, Ms. Cattleya.” a smile flashed on her lips. “I am Elsie. The head house-maid here in Madrigal.” I have no idea how she knows my name, but I guess that Mr. Madrigal told her about me already.

His eyes were wet when he offered me his arm. “Ready, princess?” I nodded, throat tight. “Ready.” The music started—soft guitar from Conti, who sat off to the side with tears already threatening even though he swore he wouldn’t cry. Sanna stood next to Mantovani, cane in one hand, the other resting on his son’s shoulder in a gesture so simple and paternal it made my chest ache. Isabella had chosen to stay in Lisbon with a quiet family friend; she’d sent a single message this morning: “Be happy. You both deserve it.” Even in her absence, she felt present.

And finally, her passport. His lips curled into a slow, poisonous smirk. “Someone left behind her getaway bag, huh?” He picked up the passport, flicked it open, and dragged a thumb over her picture. “How far can you go without any money, sweetheart?” His smile widened, darkening. “Not far enough. I guess I'll be seeing you soon.” ~~~~~ ELENA The Lawrence train station loomed ahead, lit in harsh white. Screens flashed with schedules. Announcements blared. The loud screech of brakes couldn't drown out my heart’s rapid pulse.

“Hendrick Lance dated her in high school. His parents didn’t accept their relationship because Isabela’s family status was below them. They forced him to break up with her, and she married Sir Ricardo Cortez a few years later.” I nodded as the wheels in my head turned. Occupying one side of the leather couch beside the bookshelf, I pointed at the other side for him to sit. “Isabela and Hendrick must have met again while she was still married to your father.” That made sense. I leaned back, crossing my right leg over the left. They might have rekindled the relationship. “What’s your plan?” When Marcus pulled his laptop out and began explaining things, I listened. A new hope bloomed in my ches

I explained. “You have us however you need us. We will do everything we can to help you fight,” Mateo said. That was good to hear because the next will be the biggest thing for them to wrap their heads around. They were doing really well so far. Hopefully, that would continue. “And that is why we knew we could count on you. The next thing we will explain is the biggest. It must stay between us for now until the council is taken care of properly. The prophecy mentions us as the Enchanted Dezentrae. Kenzie’s and my marks are not the typical ones,” I explained before we both exposed our marks for them to see.

Eleanor replied. "See you guys later," Isabella said as she hugged Eleanor one last time and walked back to be with her friends. "Drinks?!" Arthur asked turning to look Eleanor. "Can you stop looking at me like I'm a piece of chocolate!" Eleanor said to him and he laughed. "Well you're my chocolate!" "I don't want people getting the wrong signal Arthur," "I really don't care," he replied as he grabbed her hands and they headed towards the drinks spot. "Hi," Marshall said as he walked up to Matilda, she was standing infront of Isabella's artwork, with her hands behind her as she stared at it.

Elena teased, nudging Isla’s arm as they stood near the bar. “That’s because I am,” Isla muttered, swirling the untouched champagne in her glass. “I don’t belong here.” Elena rolled her eyes. “You belong anywhere you want to be. Besides, do you know how hard it was to get us into this gala? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” Isla scoffed. “To what? Gawk at the rich and powerful?” Elena leaned in conspiratorially. “No. To meet them. You never know, Isla. Maybe you’ll catch the eye of someone important.”

Needed distance from Isabella’s perfume and Damian’s unreadable mask. But she wasn’t alone. “Running so soon?” Isabella’s voice drifted through the shadows, sweet as honey, sharp as glass. She stepped into the moonlight, her gown trailing like ink. “You must forgive me. I didn’t introduce myself earlier. Isabella Romano.” She extended her hand as though they were strangers meeting at court. Adriana’s spine stiffened. She didn’t take it. “I know who you are.” A smile curved Isabella’s lips, too polished, too practiced. “Of course you do. Everyone does. Damian’s fiancée, after all.”