Isabella Sermon Age Novels & Stories

Five years ago... 17 year old Isabella waited alongside the rest of the Yates family members with their maids and butlers, outside the family mansion. As usual, she was positioned at the back of the maids, and her presence was just as important as that of Angela who was standing beside her. She was basically invisible.

Sebastian kept quiet and waited for her to finish speaking, he wondered what she was up to. “Raphaella is a young twenty-two years old Virgin,” Isabella informed, little did she know that Raphaella was no longer just a virgin but also pregnant for him, Sebastian thought. “What are you getting at, Mrs. Mendel?” Sebastian interrupted, he was in a hurry to get to the supermarket and get Raphaella the things she had asked for, and this woman was just beating around the bush. Isabella smiled at him, she loved that he was a man that was in charge and spoke his mind, although he was in front of his employer.

Mr Daniels says. I reply with a lie “Of course I will” I’m never coming back here, sorry. Little Isabella grabs onto my leg for another hug. She’s such a sweet girl, way beyond her years for only being six. She’s so smart and beautiful with eyes just like her dad. Her almost black hair reaches her shoulders and she tucks a strand behind her ear looking up to me. She opens her mouth to speak but starts to cry instead, I kneel down to her level.

Isabella was only 16 when her father died. She was a mess. She wouldn’t eat, she couldn’t sleep. In short, she couldn’t do anything, she could only think of her father and nothing else. Her life was completely upside down by the sudden dismissal of her father.

"You actually believed me when I said I wanted to be friends with you? When I apologized for my past behavior and promised peace between us?" Serena manages to force words through her constricted throat, her voice hoarse but filled with defiant fury. "I can't believe such a wicked, evil witch like you even exists," she gasps, each word a struggle against Isabella's supernatural grip. Isabella only throws back her head and laughs with genuine delight, the sound echoing through the transformed space like breaking glass. "Oh, my dear, sweet, innocent Serena," she says, her voice thick with mockery and triumph. "It's already far too late for regrets or righteous anger."

What the are you doing to my granddaughter? "No... We didn't do anything... "Madam, I..." Isabella stammered suddenly, snapping out of her shock, and jumping out of bed. "Don't interrupt me, Isabella, I'm asking Mr. Collins the question. Margaret replied in a loud commanding voice. The woman showed that icy and rough air that Isabella remembered of her grandmother in their only meeting during the girl's childhood, at her father's funeral; Margaret gave off a vibe that still gave the young woman some fear, so she could only nod and shut up.

Money in which Isabella was no stranger too with being born the daughter of a once successful businessman and of course small time Mafia leader. Although while the friendly game of Whiskey Poker continued on for about another hour or so, it was soon time for Isabella to begin getting ready for her date with the guys. Having asked both of the other women if they would like to accompany her back towards her room for this would be her very first date in 25 years and she currently needed all the help she could get to look the part. Smiles soon gracing their lips as both slowly agree to help. “Aww, my baby is all grown up now” coo’s Angelica, her daughter blushing as they slowly approach her room

She looked back at Romeo. "Good.” Romeo smiled warmly. "I just need to ask you a few standard questions to check your brain function. It’s protocol. Can you tell me your full name?" "Isabella." She breathed out. "Isabella Santiago." Not Galante. Santioago. Mateo’s surname. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted copper. "Thank you, Isabella." Romeo nodded. "Can you tell me how old you are?" "Twenty-one." My chest caved in. She was twenty- nine. She had just lost eight entire years of her life. It was the time she married Mateo. The time before Elena.

Isabella found the article on a Wednesday morning. She had not been looking for it. She was scrolling through her phone over coffee when it appeared in her feed. A business publication, widely read. A photo of Sera at the charity auction, standing at the podium in a deep green gown, one hand on the lectern, chin slightly lifted. The headline called her a quiet giant stepping into the light. Isabella read the whole thing. Then she read it again.

For three days? "Why me?" she asked quietly. Richard leaned back in his leather chair, his eyes traveling over her body. Isabella was twenty-five, Chinese-American, with long dark hair, delicate features, and curves that her professional attire couldn't hide. She worked out, ate well, took care of herself. She knew she was attractive.