LOGINIsabella’s POV Dawn broke slow and golden over the terrace, painting the pool water in soft pinks and oranges. The house was still mostly asleep—soft breathing behind closed doors, the occasional creak of settling wood, the distant hum of a fishing boat far out on the horizon. I hadn’t slept. Not really. After Sasha slipped out the side door at 4 a.m., with a single trembling hug and a whispered “thank you” that felt like goodbye, I sat on the edge of the bed until the sky lightened, replaying every moment we shared. Not the sex. The surrender. The way she cried against my throat, like she was finally allowed to break.I came downstairs to the smell of fresh coffee.Maria stood at the stove, hair twisted into a loose knot, an apron tied around her waist, stirring something that smelled like cinnamon and vanilla. Lila sat at the island, phone in hand, scrolling slowly. Her face looked pale in the screen’s glow. She glanced up when I walked in.“You didn’t sleep,” she said. It wasn’t
I woke up to the sound of a text message notification at 3:17 a.m.My phone lights up on the nightstand, the sharp blue glow slicing through the dark.I stared at the unknown number for some minutes, it wasn't Camilla, who again could it be.I sighed, unlocked my phone and opened the text.SASHA boldly written.*I’m outside the front gate. Let me in or I start screaming and wake the whole island. We need to talk. Now.*My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I felt it in my throat. What was she doing here, I sat up quickly, the sheets pooling around my waist and stared toward the window. Moonlight spilled cold and silver across the floorboards.I typed back:*Ask the security to show you to the side door. Kitchen entrance. Quietly.*She didn't reply. Just the read receipt.I slipped out of bed. Camilla was gone, that sneaky bitch. I wore Lucas’s oversized T-shirt he had left in my room the night before over my head, no bra, no panties, just bare feet silent on cool tile as I walked
I slipped out of bed after Lucas fell asleep, pulled on a thin robe, and padded barefoot through the dark corridors until I reached the terrace doors.The infinity pool glowed faintly under the moon, I saw a figure there, I squint my eyes. Camilla.She was there exactly as I had pictured her in the worst of my dreams: sitting alone on the edge, legs dangling in the water, white silk robe fallen open over bare skin. A half-empty bottle of rum rested beside her hip, no glass, a cap discarded somewhere in the shadows.I paused.After few minutes, I stepped onto the warm tile deck. She didn’t look up.“You’re late, I expected you hours ago.”I stopped five feet away. “How did you get in?”She gave a cracked laugh that ended in something close to a sob. “Your security is pathetic, darling. I paid the night guard two months’ salary and promised him a blowjob he’ll never forget. He opened the service gate like it was his birthday.” She lifted the bottle, took a long swallow, winced as it wen
Isabella’s POV The house settled into an uneasy rhythm over the next forty-eight hours, Lucas stayed close to me, helping me do chores.He carried the heavy canvas bags from the market run without being asked, shoulders flexing under the weight of pineapples, fresh fish. He climbed the ladder to fix the loose shutter on the east window, while I held the ladder steady while he tightened screws, our eyes meeting once through the open pane, a small, wordless acknowledgment that we were both still here, still trying. Mom and Victor moved like one, heads bent over phones and laptops, voices low during calls to lawyers back home who were trying to contain the media storm before it swallowed us whole. They spoke in clipped fragments: “subpoena the server logs,” “motion to seal the juvenile records,” “gag order on the twins if they talk.” Victor’s hand rested on Mom’s lower back whenever they stood together, I saw the love glow each time they met each other's eyes.Maria and Lila turned the
Isabella’s POV I found Lucas on the far end of the private beach just after sunset.He was perched on that same half-buried driftwood log we used to climb on as kids, knees pulled to his chest, forearms braced on top like he’s holding himself together by force. His bare feet are already wet from the reaching waves, sand clinging to the dark hair on his calves. I walked barefoot across the cooling sand, steps deliberate so he could see me coming.He didn't lift his head.“I knew you’d find me,” he said, voice low and rough. “You always do.”I dropped down beside him, close enough that our shoulders nearly brush, far enough that the space between us feels deliberate. The next wave rolled in, colder now, licking at my toes before retreating.“You didn’t come to dinner,” I said.“Not hungry.”I chuckled. “Nice way to turn me down.”We sat in the sound of water for a minute. In. Out. In. Out.“Camilla’s plane landed three hours ago, no press swarm yet. No dramatic entrance. Just… nothing
Isabella’s POV The kitchen felt smaller after the call ended. The air was thick with the smell of cooling coffee and the faint metallic tang of fear-sweat. Nobody moved right away. We just stood there, clustered around the island like survivors waiting for the next aftershock.Victor broke the silence first. He picked up his mug, took a sip even though it had to be cold by now, then set it down again.“How the hell did Richard get a DNA test?” he asked. Not angry. Just puzzled. Methodical. “He didn’t have a sample from me. Not legally. Not without a court order.”Mom leaned her palms on the counter, shoulders rounded. “He could’ve pulled something from the house. Old toothbrush. Hair from a brush. But Isabella’s sample… he’d need something recent. Something she left behind.”Lila frowned, scrolling absently on her phone even though the screen was dark. “Or he paid someone. A lab tech. A private investigator. People do that when they’re desperate.”Maria shook her head slowly. “Richar
Camilla’s POV I woke up feeling like a queen on coronation day. I looked at the mirror in my walk-in closet; a black pencil skirt hugging my hips like a second skin, slit high enough to show a flash of thigh when I moved. Crisp white silk blouse, unbuttoned just low enough. Red lipstick, heels tha
Marcus’s POVI remember Isabella's confession, almost whispered in the front seat of the Bentley the last time I took her on a drive, her voice shaking as she told me about Maria. Not just the housekeeper who’d raised her since she was small, not as the woman who folded sheets and cooked breakfast.
Isabella's POV The next morning hit like a hangover I didn’t earn. I woke up in the hotel bed alone. Dad had slipped out sometime after I fell asleep on the bed, leaving a note on the pillow: “I'll meet you at home. Stay sharp. Love you.” No explanation, no goodbye kiss. He left, just like that.
Isabella's POV I woke up the next day feeling a bit relieved. Camilla had the signed recognition agreement and document.She hadn’t sent the videos yet, but she didn't summon me again. But the silence was worse. It felt like she was letting me stew, letting the fear build until I begged her to pun







