Parizad Novel English Translation Novels & Stories

‘’Just a few items, we will go shopping once you are home and everything for the baby will be bought’’ emandra tells Paris, picking up a few items for her and shoving them into the tiny pack back. ‘’What about Mirrod, this is his baby and I know he loves him, is he going to let me leave with his child?’’ Paris could not hide her distress. It's been so long and for the longest time freedom has been all she could think about, there was no other thought, no other thing she wanted as much as she wanted to walk away from this hell of a life. Seeing it just a few steps away, worry crept right in. She was worried and it was understandable.

"I want to. Wait for me. I'll take Armand to Bernadette's house now." Percival looked at him silently, but inside, he was happy at the mere thought that they could see the beauty of this city together. Paris looked as hopeful as ever. With all the houses that gently embraced its inhabitants, with all the streets that took the traveler far away, to where his or her heart wished to go, Paris was creating its own magic. And that magic could touch anyone's soul. It seemed that this city cared for everyone. This city seemed to want everyone to find love and find peace of mind through contemplation of all the beauty around them. If, the last time, this city refused to reveal all its beauty to Adel

His stockings came up to his knees, and his fair skin was flushed because he was shy. Patrick had bright eyes like stars. People who saw them would be astonished. Patrick was a pretty little boy. He was so adorable, like an elf lost in the jungle. Patrick embarrassedly hiked his short suit pants up. Last night, Lisa changed Patrick's hairstyle and removed his glasses. Patrick looked totally different today. People on the street looked at Patrick with astonishment. Patrick grabbed the schoolbag straps nervously and looked at the bus station. As he expected, Aliana was waiting for him there.

Their fate might be worse than that of the Parisis. ****************************************************************************

Suzanne’s pov: Paris at night was like a dream. A dangerous, beautiful dream I wasn’t sure I wanted to wake up from. After dinner, Dominic led me through more winding streets, past street performers, artists, and charming little shops. The cool night air carried the scent of fresh bread and coffee, mingling with the distant hum of music. It was enchanting and intoxicating, and against my better judgment, I let myself enjoy it. We stopped at a riverside bookstall, where I ran my fingers over the spines of old French novels, their pages yellowed with time. Dominic picked one up, flipping through it before handing it to me.

he adds, “that you’ve made a new friend. It means you’re not just locked in your apartment waiting for us to visit… that you’re living.” “That’s what this is all about, right?” I say softly. “A new life, a new chapter. Paris was supposed to wake something in me.” “And has it?” His voice lowers. I think about it for a second. I’ve settled into a new routine here, but it’s still miles different from anything I did at home. I’ve really had to push myself out of my comfort zone. “Yeah,” I say. “It really has.” “Good,” he murmurs. “Then maybe I can take credit for being part of that transformation.”

For the next two days, Pari was entirely jobless, so she thought of spending her time exploring the neighbourhood. Knightsbridge is really a great place for an explorer. The city itself is a universe of its own, be it the historical monuments or the bustling shopping streets... it has it all. Spending some time on herself after a long time was much needed therapy for Pari. Somewhere, the caged bird in her felt carefree in those two days.

"You have changed." The observation stayed with her. Not because it was new. Because it was true. That night she walked home alone. Something she hadn't done for months. Not because she was careless. Because she was tired of being afraid. The city felt different now. Familiar. Comfortable. Home. Paris had become hers somewhere along the way. She passed cafés. Bookshops. Artists sketching beneath streetlights. The ordinary beauty of life. The sort of beauty she had almost missed while focusing on survival.

Kyle felt satisfied that he had his full strength back already. Kyle saw that it was still night, and he relaxed. If he wanted to, he could fly through the night, head right for his target—but he wanted to savor his time. Paris in 1789 was a special place. It was still, he remembered, rife with prostitutes, alcoholics, gamblers, criminals. Despite the nice veneer and architecture, there lived an underbelly that was long and wide. He loved it. The town was his for the taking.

ZARA (AUTHOR POV) Life inside the mansion continued to flow like a gentle and beautiful river, bringing them days filled with sunshine and nights filled with stars and romance. After all the bloodshed and danger they had survived, Zara felt like she was living in a dream that she never wanted to wake up from. Every morning, she would open her eyes and see Adrian sleeping peacefully beside her, his face relaxed and free from the hard expression he wore when he was working. She would trace the lines of his jaw and his cheek with her fingers, feeling grateful to the heavens for giving her a man who loved her so deeply and completely. These quiet moments were the most precious treasures she held