Sofia The First And Clover Novels & Stories

“She’s right…” “That dress looks custom-made.” “I heard she’s poor…” “I wonder who bought it.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I…” Before I could answer, Sofia stepped in front of me. “That’s enough, Klare.” Klare scoffed. “Oh please.” She folded her arms. “Stay out of this.” “No.” “I said shut up.” “And I said that’s enough.” Klare’s eyes flashed. “You always think you’re better than everyone.” “I don’t think that.” Sofia smirked. “I just know I’m better than you.”

Handling one had nearly driven her to the edge, and now, with four, she wondered how she would manage to get them all right. "I don't need your help." Clover spoke suddenly, a tear rolling down from the corner of her bloodshot eye. "I don't need you to remind me of all the silly things I did." Evelyn didn't listen to her and continued unlocking the locks. Clover sharply jerked her body and shot daggers at her. "Didn't you hear what I just said? Leave!" "I'll get you out," Evelyn repeated. "I don't want to see you! Can't you leave me alone? It's the least that you can do for me."

About how long it had been before I had let anyone else in at that level. Sofia was not Clover. She was different in every way. But she was someone who was building something real in a city that demanded it, and I had been that person once, and I knew what it meant to have someone who pulled you in rather than waiting to see if you could manage the distance on your own. I pulled her in. That, in the end, is what we do with what we learn.

“Then let me end this. Once and for all.” And this time— Sofia didn’t stop him. Because Chloe Kingston had crossed every line. And it was time for her empire to fall.

"Look at yourself. Look at what you’ve become. A Queen without a crown, hunting a ghost in a graveyard. Is this the freedom you promised him?" "I promised him a world where he didn't have to look over his shoulder!" Sofia shouted, spinning around, her hands glowing. She blasted a mirror to her left, then another to her right. The sound of shattering glass was like a symphony of screams. "Show yourself! If you’re so proud of being the 'First’s' pet, come and face me!" (ZILO’S POINT OF VIEW)

She looked healthier than she had in years, and Louis's heart swelled just looking at her. Then Sofia appeared. She walked toward them like she owned the ground beneath her feet, her dress clinging to every curve, her smile sharp as glass. "Happy birthday, Louis," she said, not meaning it. "Thank you," Louis replied, his voice cool. Chloe looked up at Sofia, then at Louis, sensing something. Sofia's eyes swept over Chloe. "You must be the sister. Chloe, is it? How sweet. The two of you, clinging to each other. It must be so hard, being part of the Volterra’s. All that pressure."

Slowly she raised her head to look up at me before she sniffed, “I'm sorry, I just go so scared” her voice broke, and I pulled her into another reassuring hug. A hug I hope she feels to her very soul to see that I'll never leave her, ever, for Chloe. “If you were very beautiful just like Chloe, and fashionable like her, if you were strong like Chloe, I wouldn't have looked your way twice, Sofia. They say, once might be a mistake, but when it happens again, you're definitely a fool. I am not a fool to pick Chloe twice. It was because you were you, that I picked you”

Sofia A soft touch, light as a butterfly’s wing, brushed my hand. My eyes fluttered open and found Clara’s face hovering above mine. Her expression was muted, a soft apology etched into her brow. She didn’t say a word, just squeezed my fingers. I wanted to yank my hand away, to turn my back, to pretend the last twenty-four hours were nothing but a fever dream, but her grip was surprisingly firm, grounding me. “I’m so sorry, Sofia,” she whispered, “For everything. For taking you there, for… for introducing you to all of it. I didn’t know. I never meant for…” Her voice trailed off, thick with genuine remorse.

Clara shoved harder, lungs burning, hair plastered to her forehead. “Russo doesn’t own you!” she shouted. For a split second, Sofia faltered. Then she laughed, sharp and bitter. “He doesn’t have to. I own myself.” She stepped onto the boat. Clara dove. Her fingers snagged Sofia’s coat. The world lurched. Sofia whipped around, eyes blazing, and slammed a fist into Clara’s shoulder. Pain shot through her arm, but Clara clung tighter. They crashed against the boat’s railing, tangled, the flash drive clutched in Sofia’s hand.

Leonardo replied, his promises now laced with tenderness. Sofia anxiously watched the clock, her anticipation mounting as the minutes ticked by. At precisely 7 o'clock in the evening, she emerged from her room, adorned in a sleeveless, form-fitting gown that showcased her every curve. The elegant blue fabric cascaded down to her ankles, flaring out in a mesmerizing display.