Isabela And Mirabel Novels & Stories

Isaac looked up at Steven with wide eyes, his voice small. “Dad?” Mirabel quickly corrected him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “No, honey, that’s not him.” Isaac frowned, confused. “But he looks like you.” “Sweetie, it’s not him,” Mirabel reassured him, smiling softly at Isaac before glancing nervously at Steven. Steven frowned, his gaze shifting between Mirabel and Isaac. “Mirabel, what are you doing here? Why is Isaac here?”

Isabella blinked. Confused. Mira offered a small smile. "You looked cold." The blanket was placed over her shoulders before she could protest. The gesture felt strange. Almost alien. Nobody had tucked a blanket around her shoulders in fifteen years. Nobody had worried whether she was cold. Nobody had cared. The realization nearly brought tears to her eyes. Mira sat beside her. Neither spoke for several moments. Then Isabella quietly asked: "How long have you known them?" Mira smiled. "Long enough."

Isabel froze, her hand still on the door, confusion and shock flickering across her face. Valentina tilted her head, all effortless charm. “Hello again, Isabel. I hope you don’t mind the surprise.” My pulse quickened. Then she nudged her suitcase forward. “So… where should I put my things?” Isabelle turned to me. The hurt in her eyes shattered into something far more dangerous. “ Isa, I was about to tell you-” She didn’t even let me finish. She stormed upstairs. I glared at Valentina, rage written all over my face, then followed Isabelle upstairs

As my lips moved against his, he gradually took over. He was one hell of a kisser. When I pulled away to gaze into his eyes, butterflies swarmed my stomach. The tenderness in his eyes was enough to make me go weak in the knees. Is this what it means to meet your soulmate? "Do you know me?" I slurred, and he raised a brow. "Who doesn't know you? You're Isabella Moreno, granddaughter of one of the richest men in New York," he responded, a certain glint in his eyes.

she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. Isabel looked at her as a tear slipped down her cheek. "Are you really my mother?" Ilyana chuckled, though her tears continued to fall. "You are literally looking at your own reflection," she said with a soft smile, referring to Isabel's icy blue eyes and light golden hair that mirrored her own. "You are my daughter, Isabel. My beautiful Isabella."

A smile made its way onto my face as I turned to look back at my own mum. “Can you help me fix my makeup?” I laughed. She smiled at me before sitting me down on the chair directly in front of a mirror. “I’ll go make sure everything is ready for you to come out. By the way, you look very beautiful,” Isabella stated before walking over to me and smiling at me through the mirror. I returned her smile and then watched as she left with Andrea chasing after her.

It was hard to know which version of her I would be getting at any given moment. Sometimes I could be met by the psycho Isabella who would stomp her feet on the ground and scream my name at the top of her lungs, or the stubborn Isabella who didn't listen to reason and needed every trick from the book to cooperate, then there was the sweet Isabella I met last night, who wanted to tell me a secret before she passed out. I liked that version of her better until I met the clingy Isabella, who refused to go anywhere without me. I chuckled at the image of her.

he asked. Isabella's eyes sparkled with a newfound sense of belonging as she replied, "I'll be bearing my maternal grandparents' name, Martinez. Arabella Martinez." Gabriel nodded in approval, acknowledging the significance of her choice. "Arabella Martinez," he repeated, testing the name on his lips. "It suits you perfectly." "Gabriel, do I look the same as before?" Isabella asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she looked at him. Gabriel met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "Yes, Isabella, your face is essentially the same as before, but you've slimmed down a bit due to the effects of the coma. You're still very recognizable," he explained, hoping to ease her concerns about her chan

“Did you hear? Lady Matilda is going to be thrown into the dungeon by the order of Emperor Tristan.” “What? But why?” another voice asked. “They say she tried to harm Princess Isabelle and pushed her into the lake to drown.” ‘What?!’ I whispered in shock under my breath. My wolf interrupted my thoughts, her voice cool and biting. “Don’t get hung up on one person, Isabelle. Cast a wider net, you have a quota to meet.” “Quota?” I muttered under my breath, my brows raised. What did she mean?– but before I could complete my thought, a sharp, searing pain tore through my body.

Francisco's eyes gleamed with pleasure as he revealed the truth to Isabella, and saw her expression get weaker with pain. "You don't know, do you?" he said. "Gabriel hasn't told you about Fernanda. She's his betrothed, his fiancee. They were meant to be married, to solidify the alliance between our families. But I suppose he's been too busy with you to remember that." Isabella's face paled, and she looked like she'd been punched in the gut. I felt a surge of anger towards my father, but I knew I had to stay calm.