Pronounce Elena Novels & Stories

a voice said and she turned to see Leonard who was coming down the stairs, she bit her lips she stared at him. "Alpha Prince" she bowed and Leonard furrowed his brows before coming to stand in front of her. "Why are you calling me that?" He asked. "Huh...you are the Alpha Prince" Elena replied. "So..sometimes you call me Leonard and sometimes you call me Alpha Prince, I'm confused here" Leonard said and Elena bit her lower lip as she looked down. "Call me by my name, Leonard" Leonard muttered. "Huh" Elena looked up at him. "It should be Leonard from now on not Alpha Prince, okay?" He said.

Julia’s voice was as gentle as her touch. “Elena.” The younger woman stirred, blinking as if surfacing from a dream. Her voice cracked. “Julia.” She tried to sit up, but Julia’s hand pressed gently to her shoulder. “Don’t,” Julia murmured. “You’re burning up.” “I’m fine,” Elena whispered, forcing a brittle smile and sitting up anyway. “I'm just tired.” “I'll bet,” Julia said, studying her face. Elena’s gaze wavered as if under scrutiny.

The sweetness fades away. Elena gasped and pouted sadly hearing the rude voice again. She started eating the breakfast immediately. When Elena had breakfast, Jack spoke up, "Lina take her to her room, and do not forget my words" Lina nodded and left from there.. Elena entered her room and ran towards her closest. "Baby, what do you want?" Lina asked her "Cinderella Gown," Elena said being so excited... It is Elena's habit. Whenever she goes outside she wears a Cinderella-type gown thinking this her prince will recognize her seeing the dress.

Elena “Elena! Elena! Where are you? You liar?” Cara screams at the top of her voice, while opening doors with loud bangs looking for Elena. Irritation danced across her face making her face red. Elena yelled from the balcony of her room, looking annoyingly irritated by the constant screaming of her name. “Cara, what is it? Stop screaming my name as if you named me,” she said as she entered her room and met Cara standing and fuming at the same time with her hands intertwined across her chest.

**Elena** I pressed the phone tighter against my ear, trying to steady my voice. "Hi." "How have you been, Elena?" Her voice was soft, almost casual. I clenched my jaw. “Cut to the chase. What do you want?” I said coldly, not wasting time. "That's harsh," she replied, a hint of hurt in her tone. "C'mon, can't I ask how you're doing, Ena?" Ena? That name felt like a knife twisting in my gut. "Please. You don’t have the right to call me that again," I snapped. "Now, why did you call?"

her voice dropped, catching somewhere in her throat, “—no one who has ever seen them has truly been able to forget them.” Victor remained motionless behind Svetlana. Yet his shoulders changed—tensing in a way that couldn’t be denied. Elena’s smile arrived as though entirely spontaneous, light and natural. But somewhere deep within her, it was the product of thousands of internal rehearsals. “I’m sorry, Nonna. My name is Elena Lafayette. I’m the art consultant contracted by Dante.” Svetlana studied that face for several seconds longer—well past the boundary considered polite in any etiquette of introduction—before finally withdrawing her fingers and turning to face Victor. As if the tension s

Only the sound of retreating footsteps. Elara stared at the white envelope for several long seconds. Across the front, written in neat black ink, were just four words. "For Elena. Not Elara."

she beamed. "It's nothing " Ariel said as she pulled her in for a side hug. "Oh my God!" She squealed in her arms and Ariel just smiled. "You're welcome , I- ne -..." Ariel said but she was stuck pronouncing the name. "E- ni - o - la" the lady supplied , pronouncing it bit by bit so she could grab the pronunciation. "Yes Eniola" Ariel replied still pronouncing it as Ini - hor-larh and she laughed "It's alright , I understand your accent " she said and they all laughed.

Elena's face appeared on screen… sharp features, direct gaze, the kind of presence that made you sit up straighter automatically. "Grace. Thanks for taking the time." She had a slight accent, maybe Cuban or Puerto Rican, and a way of speaking that eliminated small talk entirely. "I read your pitch. I looked at your designs. I researched your background. Let's talk about why this company needs to exist."

She met Lucia’s gaze head on, and her voice came clear and defiant. “Go to hell,” Elena said coldly. “And eat shit.”