Italian Ballerina Novels & Stories

“The way her hair’s pulled up at the back of her graceful neck. The way she’s perched, with her slim legs like that, makes her look like she’s startled and about to run away—like the sculptor actually stumbled upon her along the Arno River. Mmm, and that heart-shaped face—so pretty. She reminds me of you. That’s the piece that makes the museum.” “Of course, you think that,” she laughed, taking the bait at last. “You and all the other lecherous men in that gallery gawking at her ‘gently cleansing her soft lap’.” She made air quotes as she spoke the latter, a tiny snippet from Benedetti’s poem, then extended her hand, palm up, waiting for his phone.

It was the utmost picture of romantic. “Buona sera,” a young woman in a flattering v-cut red dress greeted us with a flawless and authentic Italian accent. I was instantly jealous because Italian was a language I always wanted to learn, but never picked it up enough. “Welcome to Valentino’s. What is the name on the reservation?” “Diana Bellerose. We need you to add three more seats to the table, please,” she informed the woman. Diana held herself in such a way that made it seem like what she said was final. She certainly held an air of authority to her. I was surprised that she was not destined for leading a pack. She would make a great leader.

She glared at him then without another word tugged her hand free and he could only watch with pride as she lifted her beautiful head and strode purposely into the centre of the ballroom. ‘La sua bella piccola tigre era magnifica ‘ [His beautiful little tigress was magnificent.]

“I am Chiara Bellandi, the only daughter of the Bellandi family. And you?” “I’m...” I started to introduce myself, but his voice cut through the room. “She is my wife,” his voice boomed across the entire ballroom, making everyone turn to stare. “Azalea Amara De Luca Giordani.”

, she said and excused herself, she barely made it anywhere when her knees buckled. “hell, you’re definitely not okay”, Luciano said. “restroom”, she gritted out, “where’s the restroom”. “restroom”, she gritted out. Cassie took off to the direction he pointed. Luciano turned and narrowed his eyes at Raphael who chuckled. ***************** “who is she?”, Luciano had said to Raphael. “who?”, Raphael said feigning ignorance. “you know who I’m talking about”, he shrugged. “really, you don’t have any idea who she is, perhaps I can go find out or try my luck with her instead, she’s a pretty little thing isn’t she?”, Luciano said.

“By the way, Lapochka, I notice that you have some hectic muscle on your legs and upper thighs-” A growl from the stove as Kai continues to do whatever it is that he’s doing. “Okay, okay geez,” Nikolai says and holds up his hands while rolling his eyes. “Do you work out a lot, or is there another secret you’re hiding?” I look at Nikolai, surprised that he even noticed the muscle definition in my legs because they don’t really show. “I’m a dancer, more specifically a ballerina. Not professionally though; I was told that I am much too curvaceous to ever be a Prima Ballerina.” I say and see his eyes widen at my words.

Plenty for me to choose from. Caterina’s warm hand met my arm. “Bella. Meet Bianca.” She points to a tiny lady with wild brown curls. “And Gabriella.” A slender but taller lady with mean brown eyes behind a thin glass frame. “They are the most sought-after wedding dress designers in Italy.” “Nice to meet you both.” I shook both of their hands with a small smile. “Now, let’s begin,” Bianca began as she moved to the first rack and pulled out the first dress. “This—”

the woman on the camera continued, repeating what she said in French, leaving the little Maya watching her on her iPad too stunned to speak. ""Ciao ai miei favolosi ballerini. Mi chiamo Faye e sarò la vostra nuova insegnante di danza. Balleremo come principesse e principi, come ballerine e persino ci trasformeremo in supereroi su quella pista da ballo! Facciamo una pirouette tutti insieme e rendiamo la nostra lezione di danza la più fantastica di sempre!" on cue,the lady continued, translating what she had said again to Italia. Lucas walked in and noticed his daughter too engrossed with her iPad and failed to notice his presence like she had always done before.

His jaw clenched, their love a flame that burned through the deception. Gianna Moretti glided across the ballroom, her sleek red gown a stark contrast to her usual leather, her emerald eyes sharp, her braid hidden under an elegant updo. Her command of La Rosa Nera, a defiance of tradition, was a spark that ignited Kai, their shared pain binding them closer. She danced with a rival capo, Enzo Rinaldi, her smile calculated, her voice honeyed. “You’re bold, Enzo, hosting us during a war.”

Ignazio also didn't find Rayyan, so he and Meizar often glanced at the entrance to the ballroom to make sure the two were present. Fifteen minutes later, the ballroom became lively. A woman wearing a white dress with an open-shoulder design and a skirt that only reached the thighs appeared. She looked beautiful, graceful like an angel. Her smile was friendly, captivating, and never left her face. As she walked, her gaze was fixed on one point, none other than Ignazio. "Am I late?" The girl asked with a smile on her face. Ignazio knew that everyone's attention was now on her. Not only his family filled the ballroom, but also his associates, investors, and employees invited to represent their