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Mafia's Lost Princess 178
Isabella I stood in front of the large double doors of the manor. The wood was so familiar, as was the entire environment. It was so nostalgic standing there one more time. I reached out toward the door handle and slowly pulled it down, remembering the feel of the last time I did it. I pushed the door open and stepped into the marble foyer. It was grand, pristine, and beautiful, just as I remembered. Above a small fountain stood a large chandelier made with gold and diamond crystals. I remembered the first time it was brought inside. Father was standing by the stairs, watching the men wield it in different parts. They mounted their ladders and began to assemble it slowly. Eventually, after three days, they finished putting together the chandelier. Frederick came out of the door to the left, which I remembered led to the dining and kitchen areas, as well as the walkway that led to the West Wing. "I remember when this was brought," I pointed at the fountain. "I must have been five.
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Isabella "For the first time in a while, I slept quite well, even though I had a nagging feeling at the back of my mind that something was going to happen. I woke up to find Paula staring at me with her hands on her hips and her lips locked in a pout. "What did I do?" I managed to croak out as I pushed myself to a sitting position. "You didn't tell me about what happened in the lower City. I had to squeeze the story from Ted. Look what he made me," she suddenly broke out into a smile as she sat on the bed beside me after climbing over my body and even pulling on my hair with her hands. "Look," she said again as she opened her hand to reveal a small rose made of metal. "This is so cute," I told her as I picked up the rose. It suddenly turned into a bracelet and then back to a rose. "It's not for you," she said. "It doesn't really turn into a bracelet on my hand and stay that way. It also has these beautiful patterns of roses all around it. Damon said he saw Michael. He said he loo
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Isabella I smiled and then crossed my legs, tapping my finger on my knee, a habit Damon taught me. "She would have had to have help on the inside," Donatella said, just as Julio walked into the room. "You're here," he said to Alessandro, then turned to me. "Pardon the intrusion, Princess, but I'm sure he must have told you already." "Yes, my cousin escaped. I'm well aware of that," I said, leaning back into the chair. Suddenly, I realized something. "Frederick? Where is he?" "I had someone watch him," Alessandro said. "He said Frederick only made a few calls." "Heard Frederick loves Cassandra," I said. "There's no way he would love her. After all, he was the one who brought her to you in the first place," Julio said with a laugh. "Then let's invite him here and have a talk." "No," Alessandro said suddenly, startling me with the tone of his voice. "The Master certainly does not want that man here. If anyone will meet Frederick, they will go outside." "Fine. Outside," I said as
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Isabella Frederick looked at me with guarded eyes and a face that seemed to hold information. His mouth was set in a hard line, and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. "Do you love her?" I asked him again, and this time he shook his head fervently. "So, why did you help her?" "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his eyebrows still knitted together. "I see," I said as I sipped the tea brought by the manor staff. "When are you moving out, Frederick?" "Moving out of where? I find that look of confusion on your face to be simply remarkable," I said with a giggle as I set down the teacup. His face looked puzzled, then his eyes widened in recognition, and his face colored pink with embarrassment. "I don't understand what you mean by moving out," he said. "You're in my house, Frederick. My parents' house. Whether or not you have a place to live is of no consequence to me. I generally don't want you here." I lifted the cup again to my face and took a sip. He look
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Isabella "Where are your children?" I asked. "And I'm not asking because I want to hurt them. I believe that as next-line members for the family headship, they should know about their birthright. You should teach them about that birthright. And I don't think it's quite right for you to meddle in my business, princess." "I find that rather unfair," I responded. "Considering how you can meddle in my business, but I can't talk about yours. Of course, I understand this might be a sore subject for you, especially considering the fact that your key ally is dead and his family does not sit amongst the six anymore. Granted, it doesn't change the fact that they are still alive, but in some ways, it might negate the generational agreement between you two." "You don't know what you're talking about, princess. If that's how you want to play things, fine. I cannot force you. I'm simply trying to show that I mean no harm, and I want to help. Genuinely, I want to." "I don't need your help, prin
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Damon I opened the door long before I heard her knock. My sense of smell is getting stronger, allowing me to smell her from over 100 meters away. But that wasn't all. My ears could pick up the distinct rhythm of heartbeats making me recognise who was coming. "Come inside," I said to her with my arms stretched out. She set her bag down and took off her shoes before accepting the hug I offered. "You know, you're quite the caveman sometimes," I said. "I was beginning to get worried about you," she replied, her arms going around my waist. "Is there something wrong, Mia Bella?" I asked, hearing her slightly erratic heartbeat and the scent of tears from her eyes. "Nothing," she said quietly. "I can smell the tears. It's salty and quite distinct from water. You cried. What happened?" Isabella turned her head upward to look at me. "I'm going to need a bath first," she said. Thirty minutes later, she lay on my chest dressed in my shirt, which she insisted on wearing rather than her paj
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Damon "Who is Ivan?" Isabella asked beside me. "Oh, please let me tell the story," Miguel said as he sat at the table. Her eyes brightened as her elbows propped on the table and her palms held her chin. "Ivan was one of the first, one of the first brothers, in fact. If anything, he was more of a brother to the boss than we were followers to him. They had this unique relationship. I don't know how they met, but all I remember is that they were always together." "Shut up and eat your food, boy," Frank yelled as he slammed his hand on the table, causing Isabella to jump. "She's so cute," I thought to myself with a smile. "Why don't you tell the story?" Frank said to me. I shook my head. "It's better if Ivan tells it. I'm going to skip on some details," I said as I cut a piece of my pancake and shoved it into my mouth to avoid talking. "I sent him out for a moment, and he came back with a stray Russian mad boy. That's how they met," Frank said dismissively. "Isabella, enough," I s
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Isabella "Ivan was a beast of a man who reminded me of Leonidas. He had short, dark hair cut close to his head, a strong jaw, a prominent nose, slightly full lips, and deep-set, bright blue eyes. Objectively, he was handsome, but he had this feral nature about him that made me feel as though I was standing in front of a wild animal. "They call me Ivan the Undead," he said with a smile. "I know. I saw it, and I think your American accent is quite charming," I replied. Ivan suddenly smiled, transforming his face entirely from a feral beast to a teddy bear. "You are the redhead who is messing up my brother's mind," he said as he stretched out his hand to greet me. Suddenly, his head tipped forward, and Frank stood behind him. "She's the Mafia Princess, you stupid dimwit. You will accord her the respect she deserves," Frank said sternly. "That won't be necessary," I said in a soft voice, knowing that the men heard me. Damon suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him. "This
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