Isabella Leclair Novels & Stories

Carmen’s voice chimed as she walked into the room. “What are you doing here, Carmen.” Javier pushed her out before she saw me. “Ricardo said he had some business to deal with something about Isabella Valéz.” “Isabella, who?” “The child he had with that woman before me. Turns out that old bitch is here too.” “Hmm, I didn’t know that.” “Javier!” Ricardo said, coming down the hallway. My blood ran cold as I stopped in my tracks. “Why are you pushing us out of your room? Are you hiding something.”

Isabella sank down onto her knees before them, desperately clutching at Mavric’s legs. “Take me with you to London. I hold the key codes required to access your father’s secret facility. But please… I beg you… don’t let my mother find me.” Mavric looked toward Liora, silently asking whether this was a carefully orchestrated trap or an unexpected offer of help. Looking deep into Isabella’s eyes, Liora saw genuine terror and desperation, yet she knew better than anyone that in the dangerous world of de Montfort aristocracy, very little was ever truly as it seemed.

And this one was his favorite kind. The gala was glowing that night. The chandeliers sparkled like ice, laughter floated through the air, and music softened the edges of power. Leo stood near the bar, half-listening to some old official talk about sponsorship deals. His mind was elsewhere — mostly on Maya. That’s when Isabella appeared. “Leo?” Her voice was low, gentle, almost curious. He turned, his polite smile automatic. “Yes?” She extended her hand. “Isabella Rossi. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Marcella had tried to lure her in—offering her a seat at the table, a place in a new empire. But Isabella had no interest in joining someone else’s kingdom. She was going to build her own. She glanced across the cabin at Leo, who was watching her carefully from his seat, his own drink in hand. “You didn’t kill her deal,” he murmured, swirling the whiskey in his glass. Isabella smirked, meeting his gaze. “No.” Leo raised a brow. “You could have.” She leaned back in her chair, eyes gleaming. “Why kill something when you can take it for yourself?”

Each conversation was like piecing together a puzzle, slowly revealing fragments of Isabella's true nature. One name that emerged repeatedly in my search was that of a man named Gabriel Lacroix—a powerful and influential figure with ties to Isabella's past. Rumors whispered of a forbidden love affair, of a twisted obsession that had led to tragedy. It became clear that Gabriel held the key to unlocking Isabella's secrets. With determination burning in my veins, I sought out Gabriel, driven by a need to understand the depths of Isabella's involvement in our lives. It was a clandestine meeting, cloaked in secrecy, as we met in a dimly lit cafe on the outskirts of town.

It Was Her Country: Aurivelle City: Auremont Alvara I didn’t realize when the tears slipped out. But the moment I did… I wiped them away. Immediately. This was what they wanted. And I wasn’t going to give them that. “Who could do something like this?” Isabella’s voice broke through, filled with anger. “This is wickedness.” But I already knew. There was only one person bold enough. Leonora. Or one of her shadows.

, she chuckled. “I would have taken him down by myself but I needed an army I can fortify to take him down. Maybe when Louis and his men play around with the reins of power, we will take it away from them and the witches will be the only relevant force”. Isabella’s stared at her in shock, “So I can deduce that you’re planning to betray Louis and this is all a fight for power. This makes you a better person”, she said sarcastically before leaving her alone feeling all the more dejected.

Waking up I looked around, I saw two men , one behind me and the other behind my mother, they looked so deadly and ready to kill, I looked at my mother , she was half asleep on the chair she was tied to , she looked so pail , I felt my tears roll out . The door opened , there he was , the demon , SANTIAGO. "The main guest finally arrived , how're are you Isabella, you see when I asked my boys not to get you from your apartment forcefully, they thought I didn't know what I was doing, I told them I loved my women obedient and willing , hahahaha" his dreadful laughter resounded in the room "You don't need to keep her here , I'm here already" " She is the only tool to compel your obedience Milad

“Don’t talk about him.” “Oh, but I must,” Leclair said softly, stepping closer. “Your father ruined everything. My family. My company. My life. He left me to rot, and when I finally crawled out of the ashes, I found his son working for me. Fate, don’t you think?” “You used me,” I said flatly. “No,” Leclair corrected, “I made you what you are.” His words sliced deeper than I wanted to admit. He took another step closer, his face barely visible through the fog now. “Tell me, Alexander… when did you realize that your precious Isabella was just like her father? Born into betrayal. It’s in her blood.”

She's expecting. The suite is a disaster zone. Maya is currently draped over the back a couch, singing a very slow, very slurred version of a song that hasn't been on the radio in a decade. "Isabellaaa," Tina groans from the floor. "Tell the floor to stop spinning. It’s being... disrespectful." "You're just drunk." I pull up Leo's chat. Isabella: The mission is compromised. The brides associates have fallen. Send help. And Gatorade.