Subaru X Beatrice Novels & Stories

POV: Nichole After that night, the next day…. "You are sitting in my chair," Beatrice said as she slammed her designer leather bag into the marble table in front of me. The expensive café was full of quiet socialites and the sound of porcelain cups, but Beatrice did not care about being loud. She stood over me with narrow eyes, waiting for me to get up and leave. I stayed completely still, reached into my coat, pulled out the silver flash drive from Xavier's mother, and dropped it on the stone table right next to her bag.

“Fine! Mother. You know it is her that will be happy only. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself!” Beatrice went out of the cubicle and examined her face in the mirror. She had bruises on her cheeks and a bandage on her forehead. Even her lips were bruised. Though, she was confident that whoever that man will still want her. Beatrice has gray eyes that she takes from her mother. Her hair was a long and natural blonde. She also has freckles on her cheeks and on her nose bridge. Her skin was fair and had a slim body. She does have suitors but she never entertains anyone because of her stepmother. Plus, she was more focused on building her career than having a boyfriend.

Her mother’s old Subaru had just pulled into the dirt driveway. Hazel watched, her breath catching in her throat, as her mother stepped out of the car, carrying a brown paper grocery bag. Her mother stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes locking onto the massive, imposing figure of Xavier Sterling standing on the front lawn next to a sleek, mud-splattered black Maybach.

"And I’ll run the winery, because Leo doesn't know the difference between a Sangiovese and grape juice." Beatrice, now nearly ten, sat at a wooden table with a sketchpad. She had Caro’s fire and Alessandro’s unwavering focus. She was the heart of the farm, a girl who knew every vine by name and every secret of the soil. The screen door creaked open, and Caro stepped out. She looked at her family, and the breath caught in her throat, just as it did every single day. She walked over to Alessandro, sliding her arm around his waist. He pulled her flush against his side, his hand resting on her hip in the possessive, grounding way that had never changed.