Mag-log inIsabella’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
Isabella’s POV We moved inside like people carrying something fragile and explosive. The kitchen island became our war table—notebooks, a laptop, half-drunk coffees, the little black USB drive sitting dead center like a loaded gun. Morning light slanted through the windows, turning everything gold and too bright, like the day was trying to pretend nothing was wrong.Victor pulled a legal pad toward him. “We start with timeline,” he said. “What happened when. No spin. Just facts. Camilla can’t argue dates and locations if we have them first.”Mom nodded, already opening the laptop. “I’ve got the old emails from the lawyer. Timestamped. Plus bank transfers she tried to hide.”Lila sat cross-legged on a stool, phone in hand. “I can pull screenshots from the group chats, the ones the twins used to coordinate. Nothing graphic, just the planning texts. Enough to show intent.”Maria leaned against the counter, arms folded. “And the medical reports from after the pool house night. Bruises. T
Isabella’s POV The tires crunched gravel before dawn—low diesel rumble that cut through the quiet house like a warning. The engine idled for a few seconds, then died.Victor was already up, standing at the kitchen window with a mug in his hand, staring out. He didn’t turn when the security lights snapped on, flooding the drive in harsh white.“Marcus,” he said. Voice flat, not surprised.Mom appeared in the doorway… hair loose, sleep-rumpled T-shirt slipping off one shoulder. She glanced at Victor, then at the window.“Is he alone?”Victor nodded once.The front door opened, footsteps on the porch. Then Marcus’s voice rang low, careful.“I know you’re watching, but I’m not here to cause trouble.”Victor placed the mug down and walked to the door. Opened it wider.Marcus stood at the bottom of the steps, hoodie up, hands visible, palms out. Black van idling behind him, headlights off now.Victor didn’t step aside. “Say what you came to say,” he told him.Marcus looked past Victor… eye
Victor’s last line hung in the warm night air like smoke after a gunshot.“Behave,” he said again, slower this time, eyes flicking between the twins. “I don’t want you both breeding my daughter under my roof.”The security guys shifted their weight. Mom sucked in a tiny breath. Lila made a small, shocked sound that she tried to cover with a cough. Ethan’s mouth twitched…half smirk, half grimace. Noah just stared at the gravel like it might swallow him.I felt heat rush up my neck, fast and furious. It's not embarrassment. Rage. Pure, bright, burning rage.My daughter.Like I was still sixteen and needed protection from boys with wandering hands. Like the past six months hadn’t happened. Like I hadn’t already fucked every single person standing in this driveway at one point or another, including him. Like my body, my choices, my mistakes weren’t mine to own anymore.I turned on my heel without a word and walked straight back into the house. Bare feet slapping tile. Robe flapping open.
Isabella’s POV The sun hammered down on the terrace like it had a personal grudge. Late lunch sat mostly untouched on the teak table—grilled fish cooling, pasta, beer bottles sweating rings onto the wood. I stretched out on a lounger in one of Maria’s spare bikinis, holding my phone, airplane mode turned on, thumb scrolling through cached news alerts I didn’t really read pretending the headlines weren’t still screaming our names across every feed.Victor’s phone vibrated, rang out. A sharp sound that made my stomach clench before I even registered the sound.He wiped his hands on a rag, answered without glancing at the screen.“Victor.”Pause. His shoulders locked. Jaw muscle jumped once.“Slow down, where are you?” He askedLonger pause. His eyes flicked to me… quick, unreadable.“Put it on speaker.” I mouthed.He tapped the button. Ethan’s voice burst out cracked, wind-whipped, traffic roaring behind it.“…we’re on the move. Noah’s driving. Took Dad’s black Range Rover from the gar
Isabella’s POV The house phone rang. It sat on the side table in the foyer, black rotary thing no one ever used anymore, but Victor had insisted on keeping it connected. Old habits.He picked it up on the second ring. Listened, his face hardened.“She’s here,” he said into the receiver. Then, hung up without another word, turned to us. “At the gate.”Mom straightened from where she’d been leaning against the kitchen island, and coffee mug halfway to her lips. Placed it down hard enough that liquid sloshed over the rim.I felt it in my chest first, a tight squeeze, then a sudden kick of adrenaline that made my fingertips tingle. The robe I’d thrown on after the pool still hung loose, belt barely knotted. Hair damp and tangled from the wind earlier. We moved as one… Victor leading, Mom beside him, Maria and Lila falling in behind me. No one spoke. Just footsteps echo down the hallway, out the front door, onto the wide stone porch that overlooked the drive.Camilla stood outside the wr
By Friday night, when we returned, the tension was thick enough to choke on.We were all in the media room, I just wanted quiet. So I suggested a movie. They actually agreed, and the movie started playing. It was a romance thriller. Love. Lies. Secrets. Too close to home.Massive screen playing som
Isabella’s POV I stepped out of Claire’s apartment for some moments under the guise of picking up a delivery. The apartment felt smaller after she told me everything. The air was heavy with her tears and my silence. We sat on couch for another half hour, her head on my shoulders, my arm around he
Camilla’s POVThe house felt wrong tonight. Not the usual wrong, like the low whispers of secrets I already owned. It wasn't the quiet satisfaction of knowing exactly where every cock in this family had been and who it belonged to. This was different.A silence that tasted like someone had starte
Isabella's POVI avoided Dad for three days after that night with Camilla. Every time he walked into a room, I found an excuse to leave. It was either to make a phone call or I had a headache, “I need to help Claire with something.” He noticed. Of course he did, I'm usually not this way around hi







