Isabella Icardi Novels & Stories

My voice was still faint from all the crying that I have been doing since last night. A tall girl was standing outside my door. She looked bright and happy. She kind of reminds me of Gill. I wondered how she is right now. I told her I'd be back when I got a chance. I haven't got that chance. Maybe, within this week? I will be able to meet her and her new born baby. "I am Isabela, my lady. I was assigned by Alpha Lucia to attend you. She's summoning you to the Stadium. She said to wear something extravagant. People will be there to congratulate your victory. Congratulations again, my lady!" she chirped like a bird.

Nia entered with a tray and Isabella looked at her. “I have made some pizza and wanted someone to share with. After all, what can be better than watching a movie while eating pizza with your friend?” Nia sat beside her and put the pizza dragging a coffee table in front of her bed. “Come, I have prepared your favorite coffee.” Nia placed the cup, but Isabella was lost in her thought. “What happened?” Nia asked when she noticed Isabella didn’t jump on her coffee. “Mam Alicia wants me to join Rossi corporation as Mr. Rossi’s secretary,” Isabella said and Nia choked on her coffee.

I didn’t miss the way his eyes were on me for a moment too long, as if assessing me, as if he knew exactly what was going on inside my head. Isabel stepped forward, and the room seemed to fall silent for a moment. She flashed a smile that was all teeth, her eyes glinting with a knowing look. "I’m Isabel Ortega," she said, her voice was practically dripping with charm. "But most people call me Electra."

she said, placing a worn leather diary on the table, “this is Camila Antonio’s personal diary. In it, she detailed the corruption she tried to expose. She predicted what would happen to her—and she was right.” Ximena sat in still silence. Isabela turned slowly, facing the board. “My mother was silenced. But I wasn’t. I was hidden, erased, made to feel like a ghost.” She stepped forward slightly. “Now I’m here. And I’m not here for revenge. I’m here for what should’ve always been mine.” The board looked between one another. Isabela’s calm confidence was shaking them. Ximena stood. She looked directly at Isabela, her voice sharp but composed.

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.

“Something like that. Her name is Isabella, and she’s from Brazil. She’s going to live with us for a while and take care of you.” “Is she nice?” Giulia asked, her eyes shining with curiosity. “I think so. Carmen chose her, and she seems very kind. She likes children and will help you learn new things.” Giulia fell silent for a moment, staring at the melting ice cream in her hand. But now she seemed more interested than the first time we talked about Isabella. Now she had questions. “Will she stay with me when you’re at work?” “Yes, princess. But I’ll still be here for you whenever I can. Isabella will be like a friend who helps you and plays with you.”

“She tore my arm off!” “Your arm is still attached,” I said. “It’s ruined!” Tears instantly flooded the lower rims of his blue eyes. “I need a doctor! And ice! And surgery!” Issa, meanwhile, took two steps back laughing under her breath. Then she ran. “Max is cryyying, Max is cryyying, wah wah wah, baby king is crying—” She darted behind the island, singing in a bright little voice that was cheerful and deeply annoying. “Isabella Maria Gómez.” I deliberately switched on full Latina mode. “Get back here before I personally donate every glitter clip you own.”

Candice’s P.O.V. The gallery in Lisbon had transformed into a living canvas that night. Soft lighting spilled across Isabella’s paintings, turning the white walls into windows into her soul. I stood near the entrance with Mantovani’s arm around my waist, watching our niece move through the growing crowd with a quiet confidence that made my chest swell with pride. At twenty-two, Isabella had become a force of color and courage, her dark hair pulled into a loose braid, her black dress simple yet striking. She paused to speak with visitors, her hands gesturing animatedly as she explained the stories behind each piece.

Edward had killed her and made me believe I had been the one to murder her. And now, he wanted to do it again. But Isabella wasn’t Elena. She didn’t smile the same way. Didn’t move through the world like she belonged to anyone. She had edges Elena never did. She didn’t pretend to be unbreakable. She just kept going, even when she was. She was stronger than all of us, and maybe that was why he came back. A chair dragged across the floor and I raise my head, only to see that it was Isaac. He was holding an expensive bottle of wine. He poured us both a drink and sat.

Ignacio said through gritted teeth as he watched with satisfaction, the one time mighty alpha fall to her knees. As Isabel tried to stand on her feet, Ignacio gave her a kick on the shin, causing her knees to hit the floor once again. The amount of wolfsbane in her body was too much, as it burned her entire system. Without warning, Ignacio launched himself forward and kicked Isabel in the head, causing blood to trickle down her face as a result of the impact. He didn’t stop there as he kicked her violently in the stomach each time she tried to get up. “Just die, you bitch!..” he said with each kick.