My Isabella

By Evary Elis

What would you do if your life fell apart in an instant? If you lose your fortune, your reputation, and your future because of your father? If your only option is to escape to an unknown place full of mysteries? That's what happens to Isabella, the protagonist of this gripping romance novel. Isabella is forced to leave her comfortable life in Paris and travel to the Amazon rainforest, where she will meet some relatives she never met and who keep an ancestral secret: her great-grandmother has the power to transform into a jaguar. In the middle of the wilderness, Isabella will also know love, but it won't be easy. The man who makes it vibrate is the same one who wants to take away her family's land. Can Isabella trust him? Will she be able to resist her pull to him? Will she be able to uncover the mystery of her great-grandmother and her connection to the jaguar?

Don't miss Isabella, a novel that will make you live an adventure full of romance, magic and emotion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evary Elis
• Release date: Jan 29, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224436439

Evary Elis

Evary Elis is the pseudonym of Danielle Pérez Guillén, a Venezuelan author who writes fantasy and romantic fiction novels. She was born in the city of Caracas and raised in the Baruta Municipality, where she spent her childhood and youth. Since she was a child, she liked to read, the first book that caught her attention was "Memorias de Mama Blanca", a novel by María Teresa de la Parra, and from then on, she did not stop reading the works of renowned local and international authors, with Rómulo Gallegos, Gabriel García Márquez and Edgar Alan Poe being her favorites. In 1978 she traveled to the United States to study English and returned to Caracas a year later and began working as a receptionist in an insurance company. For the next twenty years she worked as an Executive Assistant to presidents and senior executives in transnational companies such as Johnson & Johnson de Venezuela, Colgate-Palmolive, Nestlé, Empresas Polar, and Monaca, among others. In 2011 she wrote her first novel "The Two Books of San André", the first book of the series "Chronicles of Magic" that she self-published on the Amazon platform. It would be followed by "The Witch's Apprentice" and "The War of the Wizards". Evary has ventured into other genres such as romance novels and crime novels, with "Isabella" and "The Mask of Agora"; and in stories with "Mi Abuela Blanca", all in Spanish on the Amazon platform. Other books by the author are: "Savanah and the Descent into the Underworld of Heres", "Between Love and War" and "Amy and the Island of Eagles". Evary plans to enter the North American market with the novel "Rowena and the Books of Spells", which will be released at the end of March 2024. Currently, she lives in Valencia, Venezuela, since she has been writing her novels for a young adult audience.

Book preview

1 MY BEAUTIFUL PARIS

Finding out that my fabulous life of luxury and wealth was about to end was the most devastating thing I have ever had to face in my life. The panorama of poverty that loomed before me left me speechless. That day my father contacted me early by phone, just before leaving my penthouse to go to the club and urged me to show up at his office. My father's office in Paris has always left me with a pleasant impression and the conviction that I was witnessing a vivid work of art. Located on the coveted Delaware Avenue, it was designed by John Dickenson, the famous British architect adored by celebrities, and is a clear example of avant-garde refinement and exquisite elegance. Just one look at the furniture is enough to capture the luxurious spirit of the design.

But this time, instead of admiring the spectacular view of the imposing city, with its buildings harmoniously mixed with stylized trees, my eyes focused on my father walking from one side to the other, with his fists clenched and his gaze lost: in short, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. What could have caused such a change in a man so sure of himself? The certainty that something terribly bad was happening crossed my mind. He still did not speak, his brow furrowed, trying to find the courage to tell me what needed to be said. Such a state of anguish and despair was unusual for him.

Grumbling, I looked at my watch checking the time, since my friend Ingrid was waiting for me at 2:00 pm at the Bermige Club for a tennis match, so I looked at him impatiently and he understood that I was in a hurry. My father finally mustered the courage required to speak and, taking a chair from his desk, he sat in front of me taking my hands in his:

—Dear Isabella, my beautiful girl, what I am going to tell you is the most demanding thing I have done so far. I am in trouble. My company is falling apart, and I will file for bankruptcy on Monday. My lawyer's recommendation is that I do so without delay, but that will mean the end of our life as we know it, and I wanted to talk to you first before taking that step. A fraud lawsuit is also underway. Do you remember Michael, my partner?

I nodded, remembering that Michael showed up unexpectedly at my seventeenth birthday party, and was the only guest over thirty that my father invited without consulting me. How could I forget him if he were the only discordant note of that celebration that was talked about for days in the social pages of the most important newspapers in Paris?

Until that moment, I just listened, without understanding much of what he was telling me. The neurons in my brain were not functioning properly, as they were busy planning my strategy for the tennis game with Ingrid. My father continued speaking:

—Well, Michael wasted funds on questionable investments and our clients are demanding their money back. The worst-case scenario would put me in jail, but negotiations are underway to reach a deal that is fair to all parties, and I do not believe incarceration is the case.

Then, he paused, waiting for my reaction.

—Isabella, did you hear what I told you?

I blinked several times and suddenly realized the extent of what he said, which caused me to enter a state of deep shock, hors de ma tête, and prevented me from uttering a single syllable; much less give a reasonable answer to his question. My facial muscles became numb, my breathing became faster because I felt like I was short of breath; such was the state of shock. In a split second, I had a glimpse of the future of poverty that lay ahead. Sometimes unexpected reactions arise from unexpected events, and being on the brink of a financial collapse was the most unexpected event of all.

My father gave me a compassionate look and continued saying:

—I must sell all our properties to pay our creditors, including my house, your penthouse, our cars, jewelry, everything, dear. And when we pay off the debts, I am afraid there will not be much left for our own expenses. Our bank accounts and credit cards are already frozen, so it is not a good idea for you to go to the club today —he joked, as he always did in high-tension situations.

I looked at him with anguish in my eyes, feeling like a heavy burden was placed on my shoulders. I let go of his hands in disgust and stood up to get some air and regain my composure. Now I was the one walking from one side of the office to the other. My mood went from anger to disbelief, and from fear to rage, as he remained silently glued to his seat.

—What are we going to do, dad? Where will we live? I do not know what to say. The thought of you being in jail scares me to death. Can we flee to another country and escape from all this mess like most criminals do? Let us get on a plane, Dad, and get out of France.

As I walked, I looked out the window as a handful of gray clouds momentarily covered the scorching sun, and as I turned my face toward my father, I could see his expression of anguish and pain, the same one he exhibited in the cemetery when my mother died.

—I am not a criminal, Isabella. I must clear our name. Honesty is an important asset, both in business and in personal life. What kind of father would I be if I ran away from my responsibilities? What lessons would I be teaching you?

My father's obstinacy always emerged at the most inconvenient times. Every time my behavior did not meet his expectations, he oversaw instructing me through talks and anecdotes about principles and values ​​that showed me the type of lesson to learn. I became defensive:

—I do not care about lessons right now! I care about you, mon père!

Businessman Nicolás Andrade looked at his daughter. He was one of the richest men in France and a few months ago Forbes magazine included him on the list of the most successful businessmen of the year. His ladder to success had not been easy. He lived his childhood in a Spanish orphanage, abandoned by his parents at the age of three. Sometime later he was adopted by a prominent French couple, whose residence was in one of the most exclusive suburbs of Paris. His adoptive parents loved him as if he were their own son, and Nicolás finally knew what it meant to grow up in a home full of love and comfort. When they died, Nicolás inherited the family business, Rio Mambo International, whose main activity was the trading of bonds and stocks in international markets. Nicolás had worked hard to achieve the level of success he enjoyed until now, and when Isabella was born, he already had a considerable fortune.

The man turned to his daughter:

—My economic collapse will surely be highly publicized by the media, and we all know that they can be as ruthless as birds of prey.

I began to sob uncontrollably, and he got up to hug me, regretting what was happening. I have never been poor, I have never thought I could be, and the certainty that I soon would be made me tremble from head to toe. I was only twenty years old, but I lived alone in a luxurious penthouse overlooking the Eiffel Tower, with five servants at my disposal, two bodyguards, two chauffeurs and three small pedigree dogs as cute as teddy bears. I boasted of enjoying expensive vacations thanks to my strong social and economic status, traveling around the world to exotic beaches in the Caribbean and Europe, staying in five-star hotels, resorts in Canada and luxurious cabins in the Southern Alps, without worrying, never, about how much money I had in my bag. There was always a lot. On the other hand, my clothes were custom-made by world-renowned designers; I always shopped at Dior, Gucci, Zara, Calvin Klein, and Dolce & Gabbana, I had never set foot in a Walmart, nor had I shopped at bargain prices and certainly not on credit. I changed cars as often as I changed boyfriends, and parties and restaurants were part of my daily routine. How can this be happening to me?

I walked to the window, opened it wide, looking for a breath of air, thinking that the brightness of Paris would bring a little peace to my heart. But things were about to get worse, and my father, frowning, added:

—Sit down, Isabella, there are more things we need to talk about.

—Further? —I sighed, turning away from the window, returning to the chair.

When I looked at the furniture, it no longer seemed so avant-garde, it felt threatening and creepy as the tension grew. It is true what metaphysicians say that the environment is affected by the way we feel and think. We both sat down, and he noticed my genuine confusion by the trembling of my hands.

—I do not want you to be in Paris when all this becomes public, Isabella. However, I do have to stay to manage the bankruptcy process, there are so many things that need to be done. I have contacted your grandmother Margarita, and she will be delighted to welcome you to her house. I know you are not close to her, but your Aunt Gloria also lives there with her husband, and it is a good time for you to finally meet them. Your mother would have liked it.

Those words felt like a bucket of ice in my head. My distant relatives on my mother's side lived somewhere in a wild country on a third world continent, and I had never thought much about them.

—No, dad. I will not leave you alone. Ingrid can give me shelter in her house. She is my best friend, and she will obviously help me. I have known her since we were kids, she will not reject me—and I did not mention my grumpy boyfriend, George, because my father would never let me move into his apartment without being properly married, nor was I sure George would let me be with him. the discussions we have had over the last two months.

An incredulous look came into my father's eyes, knowing from firsthand experience that people in disgrace are often rejected by those they trust most. He pressed his fingers on my shoulders and continued:

—You'd be surprised how much people change when their friends are in the middle of misfortune. In cases like this, many will turn their backs on you. Do not count so much on Ingrid's friendship, dear, she might disappoint you. Money has many friends, people do not. My own partner knew in advance that our investments were in danger and that our share placement was at risk, but Michael surprisingly had time to save his assets, but he did not advise me soon enough to save mine.

—I would not think Ingrid is ungrateful, Dad. We are like sisters, flesh and blood. I spend as much time at her house as she does at mine. Her mother is sweet, understanding and with gentle manners. I dare say that her father appreciates me like a daughter. They will not turn their backs on us like you just said. They have invited me to go to Morocco next season. Isn't that an indicator of how much they love me? —I said with the naive frankness of my youth.

My father sighed doubtfully, and I felt guilt in his voice. From his lips, I heard:

—Like I told you, do not count on it. Get ready to leave next Saturday for Villa Hermosa. Fortunately, your tickets were issued before the bank accounts were frozen.

I opened my eyes wide. My father had taken care of everything and, it seemed, there was no room for complaints or tantrums. He was in some kind of Machiavellian game in which life shuffled its chips and put them in the most disadvantageous positions for me.

Not happy with what he said:

—And changing the subject, I inform you that a real estate agent will appraise the value of our properties tomorrow. He will stop by your penthouse to do the survey, so do not go out.

I listened to his words with unease, I never imagined it was possible for things to happen so quickly. I went from rich to poor in less than an hour.

—So soon, really? And what about Villa Hermosa? I have never heard of that place.

He winked at me and said in a deep voice:

—Come on, Isabella. Have you forgotten that you were born there? Your grandmother lives near the Amazon rainforest. Gloria and Augusto have a daughter named Lolita, who should be your same age. It would be good for you to have a companion like that in such a remote place. 

—No, I have not forgotten that I was born in a place like that. It is just that I like Paris better. Civilization is my thing, not those virgin places on the planet. Are you really sending me to the jungle? —I refuted angrily since I was not interested in fostering any type of bond with relatives I had never met. Furthermore, the jungle is a dangerous place, full of mosquitoes, spiders, and all kinds of vermin. Not to mention predators like lions, tigers, alligators and who knows what other horrifying creatures from the Tertiary era of prehistory.

—I said near the jungle, not in the jungle.

—However, it sounds like you are sending me to mingle with natives and exotic animals —I replied bitterly— There must be a good reason my mother never returned. Do they have suitable accommodation for me? You know that I cannot bear the fury of hot climates. My skin is too delicate for that. My diet is also under medical supervision, and, furthermore, I have never exchanged more than two words with them, only Christmas greetings and birthday wishes by text message, and only when my mother was alive. Are there shopping centers there? Where will I buy my clothes and shoes? Surely there will only be loincloth like the ones Tarzan uses. No, father, do not send me there!

Nicolás's tone became softer, and a hint of concern nestled in his words. His main concern was undoubtedly centered on Isabella's well-being and how this incident would affect her future lifestyle, considering that the lack of resources would be a serious matter to deal with. When his lovely wife Matilda was alive, she was the one who brought balance and restrictions to their daughter's existence, but after her death five years ago, there were no limits to what Isabella could desire, nor did her father have the will to impose restrictions. There was no danger when money was plentiful, but now, when reality approached with all its overwhelming force, Isabella had neither the preparation nor the spirit to emerge victorious in such a struggle.

—Isabella, my dear daughter. Sometimes I think that I have spoiled you too much by fulfilling your every whim, and I take all the blame for it, because I am certainly aware that you are not prepared for what is coming, and you do not even realize how different things will be from now on. You are too spoiled and childish. Now, it is life's turn to teach you what I could not, and I ask God to be gentle in his lessons —he said and ran his hands through his hair. Then added, smiling:

—Dear, I do not think that following that strange diet of yours is being under medical supervision; yogurt and cornflakes are not food. There are healthier ways to nourish your body. On the other hand, I am sure that Margarita and Gloria will treat you well and in Piedra Azul, which is the name of the ranch where they live, you will also find cereals, and many things that you will like.

I frowned because I doubted that I could find anything that would meet my expectations in the Amazon rainforest. Just then Rose, my father's secretary, came in, who has been working at the firm for over fifteen years and has the look of an old-fashioned teacher with her heavy glasses dangling from her nose. She always wore blouses and wide skirts that gave her the appearance of a circus tent. She interrupted our conversation to bring us two cups of steaming coffee. I politely declined mine, because I only drink coffee from a new brand made in Malaga, caffeine-free and vanilla flavored. But, when she was about to leave, I called her again.

—Rose, would you bring me a chocolate cake? Not from the bakery in the financial center, but from Rouge's bakery three blocks away.

She, with her characteristic kindness, nodded and closed the door. My father, with a displeased expression, said:

—Isabella, you forgot to say the word please.

—Why should I? Don't you pay her to do her job? I am your daughter; she is obligated to serve me and do as she is told.

—No, dear, you are wrong. That is not the way the world works. Next time, make me happy and correct your manners. Being polite and being careful not to hurt other people's feelings is something you should practice in some way.

There was an awkward silence between the two of us, since my father had never called me out on this. Then, softening his expression, he returned to the unpleasant matter of the trip to the jungle:

—I assure you that your mother always wanted to return to the Amazon jungle. It was me with my selfishness that prevented her from doing it. She grew up there; I met her on one of