Isabella Murad Now Novels & Stories

My name is a punchline on the evening news, and I am hiding in a cash-only shithole because my wife decided to lose her mind and burn my life to the ground. I tap the cracked screen. The news cycle refreshes. There she is. Isabella is walking out of a sprawling estate in the Hudson Valley, flanked by Luca Moretti and Viktor Romanov. She is wearing black silk. She is not weeping and she is not trembling. The headline beneath the photograph reads: *The Romanov Heiress Reclaims Council Seat.* The rage that spikes in my chest is incandescent. It is a blinding, white-hot physical pain.

"There was even a woman who moved into Isabella's home while she was still married, who gloated about stealing another woman's husband, who made it her mission to make Isabella feel worthless.” The room was dead silent now. Everyone knew he was talking about someone specific. Eyes started searching for guilty faces. "But Isabella rose above all of it. She walked away with her head high and built something beautiful from nothing. She's an inspiration and I'm proud to call her my sister." Julian's smile was sharp now. "And anyone who hurt her should be very, very worried about what comes next." Elena tried to leave during the applause but reporters blocked her exit, cameras flashing, questions

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.”

It was Maria. She had abandoned her professional black suit for a simple, high-collared gray dress. She looked smaller than she had in the medical wing, more fragile, but her eyes, the eyes that had watched me from the shadows of the Blackwood kitchen were wide with a frantic, uncharacteristic desperation. "Isabella," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Valencia," I corrected, my tone as cold as the marble floors beneath us. "Isabella is currently rotting in a box of dead roses on the floor of the Rossi foyer. Did you miss the feed, Maria? Or were you too busy filing intelligence reports for your boss?"

The encounter left a lasting impression on Isabella, reminding her of the profound connections that can be forged through shared passions and mutual respect. Maria discovered that Isabella was not only the owner of an air charter company but also a successful businesswoman and a passionate advocate for women's empowerment. Her lingerie company was more than just a commercial venture; it was a celebration of the female form and a symbol of strength and confidence. Nadia shared the secret behind Isabella's success with Maria. "Isabella did the modelling of her products herself," Nadia revealed with a hint of admiration. "Unlike many other brands that rely on professional models, Isabella takes

And now, Liam stood on that screen, holding his own son, promising to protect his family. "You promised too, Henry," Isabella said to the screen. Her voice was raspy. "You promised me the world." She looked at her reflection in the darkened glass of the window. It overlaid the image of Liam, creating a double exposure. Her eyes, lined with age and bitterness, stared back from his face. She wasn't twenty-two anymore. She wasn't the wild girl who waited in Paris. She was Isabella Voss. She owned shipping lines. She owned media conglomerates. She owned senators.

Slowly, Isabella built a new life, a secret life that belonged only to her and her children. Yet the ghosts of her past never left her. The newspapers in the library sometimes carried headlines about her homeland: Royal Family Scandal Deepens… Princess Missing… Prince Karl Devastated. Isabella’s heart clenched whenever she saw his name. She longed to reach out, to tell him she was alive, but fear tightened her throat every time. What if Aura or Khalid found out? What if the King, despite his affection, couldn’t shield her from the palace vices? What if her children became pawns in a war she didn’t understand?

"We are the centre of attention tonight." With a beautiful smile that had been on countless magazine covers in her previous life, Isabella raised her chin. However, the stakes were bigger this time. The city's elite circles were already hearing the rumours that followed their abrupt marriage: why had they been married so soon? What did they have to conceal?

Alexander, one of the coldest men in the country. As the car moved toward the highway, heavy silence filled the air. I was nervous and tense. Alexander Lucas was busy with his phone. Suddenly, he turned to me and broke the silence. “Isabella, remember from now onward, you are Mrs. Isabella Lucas. So stay conscious of that.” I nodded nervously.

Isabella is a human girl, who was kidnapped to replace her look alike Arabella. Isabella is confused and before she could understand where she is and what's happening, she is being claimed by Blaze.