Isabella Novels & Stories

Isabella led an army of the most lethal assassins money can hire, and they are all females. Turns out Alberto had gotten on Isabella's bad side, and he has been on the run from her, for a while. "Mmm... you're looking more handsome than the last time we met." She said, closing in for a hug. Compared to Emilia, Isabella appears to be way smaller in size, but still manages to hug so tightly. She sure has a lot of energy. "How have you been, sugar?" She asked, finally pulling away to cup my cheeks and look up into my eyes.

"Did you think I’d just let you go?" Suzanne’s grip on her son tightened as Charles took a slow step forward, his smirk curling like smoke in the air. "I sent you the damn divorce papers, Charles. Sign them and leave." He chuckled. "Oh, I got them." Another step. "But I don’t sign away what’s mine." She backed up. "I am not yours. I stopped being yours the night you betrayed me." His jaw clenched. The silence stretched—thick, suffocating—before he lunged. Suzanne barely had time to gasp before his hands were on her, ripping their son from her arms. The boy hit the couch with a soft thud and let out a startled cry. "You son of a—!" She shoved at him, clawing, strugglin

ISABELLA I watched the sun rise on my wedding day with dry eyes and a hollow feeling in my chest. Sleep had been impossible, so I'd spent the night in my studio, finishing the commission that had seemed so important just days ago. Now the completed canvas leaned against the wall, a stranger's work created by a woman who no longer existed. By noon, Isabella Caldwell would disappear, replaced by Isabella Blackwood,wife of a man who had orchestrated her family's destruction.

I said. Magnus nodded. “Agreed.” Alexander smiled at me then. I could see the pride in his eyes. “Wise and bold,” he murmured. “You never fail to amuse me every time” I arched a brow. “Did you expect anything less?” He chuckled “Not even a little.” Then, unexpectedly, Isabella rose. Her dress was a deep forest green. She looked elegant as usual, like the princess she was. But it was the look on her face that made the room go silent. She looked vulnerable and….remorseful?

A dismissal masked as courtesy. “Ah,” he said, straightening slightly. “Isabella.” The woman turned toward me, eyes sharp with curiosity rather than hostility. She took me in quickly—my posture, my expression, the way I moved. Gabriel gestured toward me. “This is Isabella Reyes.” Her brows lifted slightly. “Nice to meet you,” she said, then glanced between us, a faint smile forming. “Are you—” she hesitated, choosing her words, “—married?”

said Isabella. Alexandro remained silent. "She was my biggest mistake," said Isabella. Alexandro clenched his fists. His fingers turned white, the veins in his hands tensed. His chest rose and fell, holding back the anger that had been boiling all along, but he remained silent, still restraining himself. Isabella kept talking. Unaware of the storm growing right in front of her eyes. "Don't call me Isabella. Isabella died more than ten years ago. Since I left Italy. Since I decided never to return. My name now is Bianca. Bianca Fontana

“What did they tell you?” “That you might not be Isabella.” Isabella closed her eyes. Gabriel Bellini spoke quietly. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” Zara turned toward him. “You knew.” “I suspected.” “That’s not an answer.” Gabriel looked at Isabella. “Tell her.” Isabella’s lips trembled. “My name is Isabella.” Zara exhaled. “But…” Isabella looked at her. “There was another name I used.” “What name?” “Elara.” The room went silent.

SERA Isabella was a goddess. Everybody wanted to be like her, including me. I wanted to be loved like her, to be seen by my father like her but obviously, I was asking for too much, a whole lot if we were being honest. Isabella is my stepsister, and it's her twenty-fifth birthday. She had pulled in half of Manhattan's elite — jewels, perfume, laughter that cost money. I had ironed my best dress for the evening, a plain navy thing that had been washed so many times the colour had started apologizing for itself.

Before I can pull away, a tear rolls down my eyes but she is quick to catch it with her thumb. I pull away and watch her exhausted shape. She is smiling like an angel and it reminds me of how Helena was smiling down at me, making me believe that what Isabella said about Helena wanting me to be happy is indeed true. Isabella is an angel. She was sent down to come into my life, heal me, fix my broken pieces, teach me lessons of life and also love me and be the mother of my children. "What do we name him?" She pulls me out of my thoughts.

The way he said ladies made me cringe like we were something other than ladies. “Teresa Montés and Isabella Valéz.” Chino responded. “These wouldn’t be my brother’s daughters, would they? “They are.” “So, you escaped Zamora. “ “Yes,” I said. “You must be Isabella. The older one, right? “He looked me up and down. “Hmmm.” He walked over to Teresa, she looked at me nervously. She is only 19. Barely even legal in the United States. He touched her shoulder, she jumped. “It’s no reason to be afraid.” He rubbed her shoulders.