Novel & Cerita Isabel Magnolia

I counted six of them, but their hoods were up and I couldn't see their faces. At the head of the altar stood Isabella, my supposed aunt. She wasn't wearing a robe like the others. Instead, she was dressed in an elaborate red dress that looked like it belonged in a different century. In her hands was a curved dagger with a blade that seemed to absorb the moonlight. "The blood moon reaches its peak," Isabella announced, her voice carrying clearly across the cemetery. "It is time to complete the ritual that will restore our bloodline to its rightful place."

I hadn’t been there since the night I watched Isabella’s body lowered in the ground. The drive there was silent but we first stopped at a little florist on Via dei Fiori, the one that still had the same cracked bell above the door. The old woman inside didn’t ask questions anymore; she just wrapped twelve white peonies in brown paper without a word and slid them across the counter. These were Isabella’s favourite flowers—always white peonies.

She sometimes liked to chatter to the young girl. Since losing her sister Renata Campania in that incident, Isabel felt a deep loneliness. The emptiness in her heart was still so palpable even though she had become part of the Vitanian Frontline Witches Brigade. Her emptiness was only slightly cured after she was appointed as the main secretary. Isabel appointed Milla François as her assistant in filing and someone who always helped her in times of trouble. In addition to being good at administration, Milla also had traits and characteristics that were not too far from her late sister Renata. That slightly cured her longing.

At the head of the table, Damien was already seated, his wine glass, near his plate but he hadn’t yet taken a sip. Beside him was of course Isla, her spine poised, her hands resting lightly on her lap in wait. There was less than a minute between the final napkin adjustment before the gentle sound from the other dining room door made it open to reveal the face of none other but, Isabella. She stepped in with the rehearsed gait she had perfected over years during the peak of her modelling career. But the main point of attention was actually the robe she was wearing; a delicate plum silk that slipped suggestively off one shoulder.

Through my experiences on this journey, I’d learned firsthand that observation often times provided more answers than questions. “Ah, I see you have met my mother,” Isabelle said sweetly. “Alas, although I appear to be Rosalie, I am not she. I am Isabelle, daughter of Rosalie Johanna Remoras who reigns over the Spanish world of magic as queen. She is powerful, beauteous, loving, fair, and most of all, a dear woman.” Elizabeth stood up and walked closer to the bed. “The resemblance is so that I could not tell you are not she. Now that I look closer, there are some differences; although very slight,” she said calmly.

Nisha cried out loud and shouted at the top of her voice. “How on earth do you expect me to love a monster like you! How do you expect me to believe you're not after something only you would gain from, uhn! Nisha screamed and went out of the room. ................. Caleb went to his favorite spot again, hoping he would meet Isabelle. Fortunately, he met her and was glad to see her again. Isabelle had a honey brown curly hair which was full, her eyelashes were long and attractive. Her eyes were sky blue and her lips were gorgeously pink. Caleb admired every part of her, from her physical appearance to her character.

She smiled her usual smile. Isabella’s blonde hair was let down with shades aiding to keep it off her face. She wore a white crop bareback with white pants and red heels to complete the look. Isabel was a part-time model and part-time advertising manager at the Cooper Group so, she always kept her body in shape. Joane cleared her throat before looking everywhere but her direction, “Do you think Nikolai hasn’t asked me out because I’m helpless and I look like a gold digger?” “Why do you ask?” Isabella glanced at her for a second before she made a turn to the right.

Isabella grew up in Anji Village outside Silvana City. Her mom owned a two-bedroom house with a large courtyard in front and at the back. Vegetable patches are full and hibiscus flowers surrounding the wall. There’s a small pathway of pebbles from the entrance to the house, so when it rains, mud won't get on shoes.

She did not know this was something which was eating Meagan up all man worshipped at her feet yet here she was unwanted by a dirty criminal who thought he was better than her just because he had dirty money which made him a billionaire. " What do you want from me why am I here please let me go " Isabella begged she knew she was in trouble but she hoped she could talk to this woman's conscious. Meagan laughed a very high pitched sinister laugh. " Oh my, look at you! You are so pathetic I do not see what he saw in you ? How could he leave me to want to be with you it just blows my mind up. But Do not worry I will fix all of that soon, I will kill you just how he normally kills all his prey and

**Lucian’s POV** The cemetery was small, old oaks shading the rows of headstones, a soft wind carrying the scent of fresh-turned earth. I stood just behind Isabella, close enough to feel her tremble but not touching—yet. She wore black, simple dress, her hair pulled back, while her face was pale under the wide-brimmed hat. Her mother stood on her other side, clutching a single white rose like it was the only thing keeping her upright.