Isabella Bello Novels & Stories

Isabella stood there, wearing a tailored charcoal pencil skirt, a silk emerald blouse that I had bought for her in Milan and a pair of stiletto heels. She held a tablet in one hand as her eyes scanned the room with the effortless authority of a queen stepping into her court. My heart did the exact same traitorous flip it did every single time she walked into a room. When we returned, Isabella made it clear she had no intention of sitting in our penthouse doing nothing. She had spent years outsmarting Mateo Santiago's digital trackers, building untraceable networks and surviving in the shadows. She was brilliant. So, I did the only logical thing. I gave her her own division at Inferno Tech.

Isabella tilted her head, her eyes now narrowing with a smirk. “Nice?” she echoed, “I don't get… Or wait... are you Jesus Christ now?” Isla let out a quiet, unfazed chuckle and nodded gently. “Uhm… No,” she corrected in the same tone. “I’m the woman who owns this chessboard.” Those words made Isabella go momentarily silent. Right after then, Isla started to move even closer until she was just a few inches away from the other lady’s chair, and then, from the fold of her coat, she pulled out a slim envelope.

The only thing which could stop this was the fact that Alberto would be present in her life again. “No? Never. I was going to say yes to Luciano. There is something you don’t understand. I love him so much,” Isabella finally declared her love for Luciano. She picked up another necklace and tried it on. It did not match with her black gown so she exchanged I with a white pearl. It was perfect. “I am so happy for you,” Manulita jumped in excitement. Things were going to fall into place. She wore her green short-sleeved gown.

Isabella glanced up at Giovanni, her gaze filled with a mix of curiosity and expectation. However, Giovanni sighed, subtly signaling her not to reveal her surname. Confusion furrowed Isabella's brow for a moment before she redirected her attention back to Ryle. "Well, just call me Bella?" Isabella suggested, offering an alternative. Ryle's face brightened with delight. "Yes, I love the name Bella," he exclaimed, his genuine enthusiasm shining through.

“Or you’re fired.” She heard Maddie’s retreating footsteps and sighed in relief but a few minutes later she heard her door open and then close. “que te estas haciendo a ti misma Isabella?”. Her father demanded angrily. “vete Papà.” She mumbled. “It’s been days.” Vincenzo snapped. “I didn’t raise you to be this weak Bella.” Isabella said nothing and covered her head with her blanket. “Isabella Maria de la Soledad Arroyo!”. He bellowed as he yanked the blanket off her body and cursed when he realized she was only in her underwear. “M****a!”. He turned his back to her.

"Isabella. She’s the weak link in the chain. Is she cracking under the pressure?" Dante recalled the dining room—the sight of Isabella’s pale, slender fingers lifting the wine glass beside a fresh corpse, her hand completely devoid of a single tremor. "She isn't cracking," Dante said, a cold edge entering his voice. "She’s not the fragile asset her father thinks she is. She’s balancing a multi-million-dollar cartel money-laundering node in Brera, and she did it right under my nose while I was sitting in the garage." "What do you mean?"

Isabella said, bowing once more. This role had been her target for months. She had dissected Natalie Frostman’s every move… the assassin betrayed by her own comrades, cunning, fiery, feared in every corner of the underworld. Every gesture, every glance, every flicker of temper, she had memorized. She had come prepared to impress with nothing but a single glance. As Isabella turned to leave, Phil whispered to the assistant director, barely able to contain his awe. “We searched everywhere for an actress… the moment we stopped looking, we found her. I didn’t even consider her for the lead — her track record wasn’t strong enough. And yet… she’s far more compelling in person than any of her photo

“The Boss is a perfect husband, here for every appointment.” The perfect husband. I almost laughed out loud. Lorenzo helped me with my coat, his eyes smiling. “This is the heir the Falcone family has been waiting for. Of course I’m going to take care of you.” He took my hand as we left the exam room. Down the hall, a familiar figure stopped me cold. Isabella. Her belly was high and round under a loose maternity dress. She was talking to a nurse. She saw us and her face lit up with a sickeningly sweet smile.