Novel & Cerita Isabella Miller

“Yes, al-“ Xavi wasn’t able to complete his sentence as he was suddenly stabbed from behind. Isabel stared wide eyed at her beta’s chest where he was stabbed. Her eyes turned red and she started quivering with anger. Isabel grabbed the unfortunate rogue by his throat, lifting him off the ground while breaking his fingers as he tried to claw at her. “No one touches my family!” She said in a deep voice, ripping his head from his body. “Get everyone to fall back!” She yelled, fighting with her beast as her anger escalated into blood lust. The sound of Isabel’s bones cracking alerted Xavi. Her beast was fighting to be in complete control.

Finally giving in, Isabella agreed to tell Anna all the gist she had managed to scoop up as a bartender in one of Los Angeles' most popular resorts. "That can't be true!" Anna gasped suddenly. Isabella had just told her of Alexa Brine, a popular actress known for her role as a gold digger in movies, confessing that she used to have a third boob growing up. "She got a boob job?" Anna gasped again. "No," Isabella whispered. "She got a reverse boob job. They got rid of the third one." "Eek, that's mortifying." Anna shuddered. "She told you that?"

The minimal makeup, the lines of her suit, all created a professional ensemble that looked businesslike above all else. "Mister Whitney?" She asked, taking a step towards him. Her voice was sure, confident and clear. "Mark," He replied, offering a little wave. He rolled his eyes at his own lameness. "I'm Jasmine Miller. I understand Mister Yousef told you I'd be meeting you here?" Mark nodded, and moved forward, shaking hands with her. "Yeah, he said that you're going to be helping me out. Is that right?"

Cassandra was indeed a perfect candidate for this job. “That is very good of you. Now you have to get started with your job. Just know that Isabella is not who everyone thinks. She is a dirty one, she knows how to play innocent and she also knows how to make the camera love her. But underneath all she's just a desperate woman.” I said. “What you have told me is good though. But I need proof, probably something that I can hold on to in case the public decides to get more information on it.” Cassandra asked and I smirked because I had already prepared myself even before calling Cassandra.

“Not even Isabella.” I froze, but not enough for anyone to notice. Who the hell was Isabella? “Speaking of Isabella, where is she?” Dianne asked in a tone that clearly stated she wasn't a fan of the said Isabella. “Zie? Care to tell me who this Isabella they're talking about is?” I asked through the mindlink. “Someone Dianne despises,” she responded, as if that wasn't obvious already. “Anything else?” “She's Keira’s friend. Only friend if you excuse Evelyn and–”

Isabella stood quietly in the lobby of the Skyline City branch of the Anderson Group, her expression cool and composed, almost ethereal. Nearly everyone stole glances at her. After a short while, a woman in her 30s hurried over. "May I ask if you're Ms. Sinclair? I'm Mr. Clark's assistant." Isabella nodded with a faint smile. The assistant, Elaine, let out a small sigh of relief. "Please follow me." Isabella followed her to the top-floor office.

The other models standing beside Isabella stepped forward. Lily looked up from her phone. "What?" Annabelle asked. "Don’t you know who she is? Isabella is only here out of kindness—to raise money for the homeless. If she weren’t so generous, she’d be the one sitting in your place. So, mind your tongue." The smile on Annabelle's lips completely faded and Lily raised one eyebrow.

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.

My identity was the only thing I had left. “I—“ I didn’t have the words, and I couldn’t form a sentence; I only stared at him as if he had grown two horns. Kill Isabella Monroe, the woman who was betrayed, the woman who trusted too easily, the woman who lost everything because she was too blinded to see the truth. Those were the words that rang in my head. "Do you think you're strong enough for that?" he asked, his voice quieter now. "You're falling apart over your face, Isabella . What makes you think you can get revenge when you're losing your mind over a scar?"

His new personal assistant: Isabella Kane. She had started two weeks ago, and from the very first day, Skyler had been ruined. Isabella was 24, with long wavy black hair that fell like liquid silk down her back, sharp emerald-green eyes that sparkled with quiet intelligence, and an effortless sensuality that made the air feel thicker whenever she entered a room. But it was her feet that had completely destroyed him.