Isabella Adalah Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Oh, I’m fine.” Isabella was thirteen now, stunning with her long black hair and piercing green eyes—a striking mix of her parents. "Mama, Grandpa got me this dress—do you like it?" Isabella twirled, showing off the fabric. Bella smiled. "You’re gorgeous, kid. And yeah, the dress is perfect." Han and Rosa stepped into the room, and Isabella sprinted toward him. "Oh, I see how it is," Bella teased, crossing her arms. "Got yourself another princess, huh?"

ISABELLA I watched the sun rise on my wedding day with dry eyes and a hollow feeling in my chest. Sleep had been impossible, so I'd spent the night in my studio, finishing the commission that had seemed so important just days ago. Now the completed canvas leaned against the wall, a stranger's work created by a woman who no longer existed. By noon, Isabella Caldwell would disappear, replaced by Isabella Blackwood,wife of a man who had orchestrated her family's destruction.

Gaby inquired with precise ignorance. "She will replace you after you've finished the mission. She will be the best prototype of you. Let me introduce you two. Her name is Olivia Brianah, and Olivia, this is Gaby Sanroman. My wife." "Nice meeting you, miss. I've heard so much about you," greeted Olivia with the exact tone and voice as Gaby's. "Omg. She sounds like me. Do I sound like that?" Gaby thrilled. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Olivia. A real pleasure."

Her cheeks are a bit covered with freckles but that doesn't affect her in anyway. I can almost see the confidence she carries herself in. She's not afraid of anything. "Jas! It's good to see you to too." This unknown woman hugs Jasmine too and by the way she called Jasmine, I presume that she knows more about her. "Evelyn, I'd like you to meet my mate, Isabella. And Isabella, this is Evelyn, the birthday girl and goddess of the seasons." Evelyn twirls in her pink ball gown and winks. "That's why they call me, Evelyn."

I looked at the other two women. “Would that you make you Luciana?” I asked, pointing to the younger of the other two women. “And you, her mother?” I stated, turning my attention to the other. She smiled. “Yes, I’m Isabella.” “Nelle ombre, il nascondiglio malvagio, Pronto a disegnarmi dal lato dell'amore, Ma con il suo aiuto sarò forte E bandisce tutto che fa me offende li Congeda, li invia fuori strada Mai di nuovo a passare la mia maniera."

She was about to respond when they were interrupted. "Sebastián?" He stepped aside only to find Inesa, who gave Isabella a cold look. However, she quickly smiled and hugged him quickly. "I'm so sorry, your mother just told me. I'm so sorry, Nicholas is so small..." Isabella took a deep breath to calm the agitation in her chest. Inesa looked at her again and spat with disgust. "And who are you? I've seen you twice now." "I..." "She is my assistant," Sebastián said, leaving Isabella speechless. "I hired her today; she came with me because I asked her to."

As soon as they arrived, Isabella, who had just returned home, cornered Selina. "Some friend you are, Selina! Something this big happens and you don't even tell me - you clearly don't consider me a friend," Isabella complained. Selina wondered to herself when exactly they had become friends. "Well, since you're okay and you came to see me, I'll let it slide," Isabella said with a haughty air of forgiveness. Selina fought the urge to roll her eyes. Isabella leaned in conspiratorially. "I heard you're close with Fernando, the head of the Ross family in Brazil?"

, Isabella requested her father’s assistant, a young man called Willie. “Sure Ma’am. I understand. I will do a discreet investigation and tell you about her asap.” “By tonight if possible”, Isabella pressed. “Tonight?”, Willie was flabbergasted at the urgency. “Yes. Whatever you can by tonight. Rest later. But I need some information before dinner time”, Isabella ordered. She had to make her presence felt by the Hills from the beginning, she decided. After all, she was not a nobody. Her face looked down from billboards across the city. She was Isabella Sinclair, a heiress.

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.”

“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.”