Isabella 6 Novels & Stories

And standing at the center of the cameras, draped in a white wool coat that looked like a coronation robe, was Isabella. She didn't run to Julian. She didn't check for injuries. She walked straight toward me, her eyes narrowed into lethal slits. "Elara Vance," Isabella said, her voice loud enough for the reporters to catch. "I suppose we should thank you for... 'assisting' our Alpha during this unfortunate terrorist attack. Though it’s curious how trouble seems to follow you like a stray dog." She stepped closer, her scent of jasmine spiked with a sharp, aggressive note of challenge. She leaned in, her nose twitching.

Now, she was treating me like an annoyance. "Dad!" A loud, whiny shout shattered my thoughts. I turned around to see Isabella stomping down the stairs, her face twisted into a massive scowl. She was holding a large stack of printed papers and a box of colored markers, looking completely stressed out. "Dad, you need to call Nadia right now!" Isabella demanded, throwing herself onto the messy couch. "I have a major history presentation on Monday morning, and nobody is helping me cut out the pictures or format the slides. My poster board looks completely messy, and I am going to fail my class!"

Isabella leaned close to the glowing screen in the center of the longhouse, her whisper trembling. “Collins, I am never returning to the public rinks for a pack celebration again.” Isabella’s eyes flushed red. “I don't care whose naming ceremony it is.” Collins smelled the anxiety through the frequency. “What disturbed your scent, little sister? Did a larger wolf push you off the ice today?” Isabella pouted, her head shaking until she caught a towering shadow blocking the light from the eastern entryway. It was Ada Lube! Terrified, she dropped the communication device into the rushes.

How lovely it would be to own this bodyguard as her dirty little secret that will serve her whenever she needs it? Mandela was fine, but when they had sex, it was as if he was thinking of someone else… presumably, his dead wife, and that put a whole dullness to it. She needed someone young and vibrant… Sebastian Damon. Isabella would make sure that the young man only thought of her when he was done with his contract, and he would worship the ground she walked on. Isabella was an expert in seducing and breaking men, and Sebastian would be a challenge, but she would eventually break him and make him fall madly in love and lust for her.

“Not me. But the Calabrians are watching. They know what happened at the cannery. They know you were there.” “They only know the detective that was there... not the one behind the facade. I don’t scare easily.” “They don’t want you scared. They want you… out.” He stared at her. “Why are you telling me this?” “Because you used to belong to us,” Isabella said. “And deep down? I think you still do.” She brushed past him, her perfume lingering like a trap. — Inside, Ava leaned close to Selena, lips barely moving. “I need you to look into her,” she said, nudging towards the lady just leaving Alex’s side. “Isabella something. Check her background, connections she has in the city, everything.”

Mateo stood at her other side, his wound healing but his pride frayed at the edges. Cameras clicked like a hailstorm. Reporters surged forward. But Isabella raised one hand, and silence fell. “I am Isabella Herrera Castellano,” she began, her voice smooth and unyielding. “And I speak today not as someone hiding behind men or lineage—but as the rightful heir of both.” She let that settle. “Last night, this estate was attacked. The man responsible is dead. But his ambition lives on—in whispers, in knives hidden beneath courtly smiles. Let this be known: I will not be moved by fear. I will not bow to the threats of those who think a woman cannot rule.”

“Good.” He opened the back door and gestured for me to follow. Inside, the air smelled faintly of leather and frost. Two monitors flickered to life between us, displaying the fragments of data I’d siphoned…..names, account numbers, coded strings that formed the veins of Isabella’s empire. “She’s moved faster than I anticipated,” he said. “These transactions….she’s replicating faces across three continents. Funding through pharmaceutical subsidiaries and humanitarian fronts.” I watched the screen, the scrolling data like static snow. “She’s building the next phase.”

" Maximo's voice sounded hoarse and hoarse. "However, if something bad happened to Isabella, the whole city would burn, because I would burn it down myself, disappear it to the ground, I would do everything for her and make you pay... Don't you see the difference here?" You think you own everything, because you grow up with money, but she, who grew up with nothing, is the owner of the world, of my world! - Máximo said with authority, pointing to his chest. "Isabella is the head of the Sinclair family and the spouse of Maxim Collins, and you are but pawns in our world!" Or they were... The sirens began to sound calling everyone's attention, patrol cars, riot trucks, firefighters, tactical equ

Here, the cypress trees grew thick and the air smelled of damp earth, salt, and secrets. I found a stone bench hidden behind a thick curtain of ivy. I sat down, my knees finally giving way, my head falling into my hands. The "Titan" was gone. I was just Isabella, a woman who had traded her soul for a chance to save a child who hated her very existence.

Isabella’s enthusiastic voice reverberated through the forest when a girl emerged from the driver’s side of the jeep. “I missed you, Isa,” she ran towards her, and both hugged each other. “I missed you too. How are you, and how is everyone in the pack? It’s been six months, and I seriously missed you all.” Isabella spoke, breaking the hug and again hugging her. They were busy meeting each other, ignoring my presence, so I cleared my throat to gain their attention. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Isabella broke the hug and came to me. She held my shoulders and squeezed them gently.