Helena Rojo Age Novels & Stories

as Celeste twirled around in ever-prettier dresses. Helena had her dress at home already, originally purchased for her upcoming eighteenth. It was a deep, mysterious ruby red with a thigh-high leg split, a clingy body leading to a high neck halter top fastening. It wasn’t covered in cheap sparkle like the other dresses, the vivid red did all the talking. The exposed back of it was unlike anything she had ever worn before, she had felt like a different, more confident person when she stood in the mirror with it on.

Truthfully I had never been near anything that grand and like a mistress, I was never taken out anywhere so there was no chance of coming across such an item. "I am sorry," I exhaled after a minute, opening my eyes, "I have not seen anything like that." Helena sighed and ran her hands through the frenzy of brown curls she had exploding out from her scalp. I had tried to style it all back sleek and smart once, she had hated it. I had to confess the crazy curls suited her energy. She was a dynamo. My sloppy, haggard bob matched me perfectly too now I guess. "Then have you ever met a man with three red scars in a line across one side of his neck?"

“Sit. This isn’t about her.” “Oh, it absolutely is.” She said calmly. Helena ignored the chairs and settled herself on the edge of his desk instead, crossing her legs, one heel slipping loose and dangling from her toes. “Isola Wren. Twenty-eight. Marketing strategist. Your patient.” She tilted her head, her eyes sharp. “Your son’s girlfriend. “Doesn't that sound familiar?” I bit my lip so hard that I knew my lips would swell. I was trying so hard not to make any single sound.

“So what if you have a boyfriend? So what if you’re not a virgin? Hmph. I don’t care about all these. I want to taste Fane’s woman right now.” Helena immediately covered the wounds at her chest with her hands when she saw the look in his eyes. She moved several steps backward in fright. “Don’t… Don’t come near me. I’m the eldest young mistress of the Cabello family. If you dare do something so heinous to me, my father will kill you and avenge me!”

Helena said. “Yes.” “So the number stops growing,” Helena said. “Yes,” Sera said. “The mechanism existing means the number stops growing.” Helena absorbed this. “Good,” she said. She picked up her fork. “The mechanism was worth building then.” The table was quiet. Then Priya said: “She is three years old.” “Yes,” Elliot said. Helena looked at them. “What,” she said. “Nothing,” Priya said. “Eat your food.” Helena ate.

“Helena sounds a little too… soft for a woman with eyes this sharp, and this wild.” A thin smile appeared on Romilda’s lips, seductive and dangerous. “Helena Smith.” Jerry watched the woman in front of him closely. She felt unfamiliar… yet strangely familiar. Something in his instincts stirred, a vibration he couldn’t quite explain. Still, he stayed silent. “So, Miss Helena.” Rocco straightened up and walked over to a drink table, pouring two glasses. “You said you know where Jerry’s daughter is?” “I don’t know where she is right now,” Romilda lied smoothly. “But Rose… yes. I believe I know where she was last.”

I asked her after my two other handmaidens were done fixing my hair, “I think I have seen her somewhere but I just can’t recall where.” Nina lowered her face as if trying to avoid looking into my eyes, “She is… She is Rhoda, your highness… a sixteen-year-old girl and one of the handmaidens of lady Helena…” I turned to look at her, baffled by what I heard, “You mean she’s from Helena’s” She nodded her head, sad about the young girl.

She sat up in bed, wrapping the sheet around her body, and looked intensely at Bruno. “There are some things I'd like to establish in our relationship,” Helena began, her expression serious but affectionate. Bruno sat up, ready to listen to what she had to say. “Of course, Helena. Talk to me.” Helena got up from the bed, went to her things, and grabbed a notebook and a pen. She returned, sitting in front of Bruno, ready to discuss their future practically. She started, “First question: how old are you, Bruno?” Bruno smiled, finding it a bit unusual. “I'm twenty-three years old.”

“Hi, Helena” The woman wearing white greeted me. I looked at her trying to look at her face but I don’t know her. She’s wearing eyeglasses, her hair was tied and she looks like an angel. Such a sweet, innocent face but I know she is hiding something. “How are you, Helena?” She asked me while she was staring at me but I didn’t answer.

Helena (Iris' aunt) had been anticipating this day for years, but she was also dreading it. This was the most complicated situation she had ever encountered, but she had to act before things worsened. It was time to speak out. But first, she had to persuade her longtime friend, who was a witness to what she had done twenty-one years ago. "Have you lost your damn mind?" Her friend Rachel snapped at her while they sat in Helena's front yard. "How do you expect us to rush up to an innocent woman and inform her that the child she has raised for 21 years is not hers?"