Chapter 6: Or Worse, Kill you...

After what felt like an endless drive, the black sedan finally slowed as it passed through the tall iron gates of the Crowne estate. The car moved smoothly along a long, quiet road before coming to a stop in front of the mansion. Isabella sat still, staring through the tinted window, trying to make out what stood before her. But the glass blurred most of the details, allowing only shapes and shadows to pass through. All she could tell was that it was… big. Bigger than anything she had ever seen.

The car door opened. She blinked as the sudden brightness hit her eyes. It took her a second to adjust before she carefully stepped out. she widened her eyes in disbelief she stared at the building before her. This… this was not just a mansion. It looked more like a palace. The building stood tall and grand, its structure flawless and imposing. The walls were a soft cream color, lined with tall glass windows. The entrance was framed by towering pillars, giving the place a sense of authority that made it feel less like a home and more like a place of power. The surroundings were just as breathtaking. A wide garden stretched across the front, perfectly arranged with trimmed hedges, blooming flowers, and tall trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze. At the center stood a large water fountain, its clear water flowing smoothly, the soft sound echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

The mansion back home had been beautiful, yes. But this...This was on a completely different level.

“Ma’am, let’s head in.”.The bodyguard’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Isabella nodded quickly, lowering her gaze as she followed behind him.

Inside, the mansion was even more overwhelming..The interior was spacious, designed with a level of elegance that made her feel out of place just standing there. The floors shone under the soft lighting, and every piece of furniture looked expensive and carefully placed. Isabella’s eyes moved slowly, taking everything in. As she looked around, his gaze finally landed on an old man who was leaning on what seemed like a bar stand. He stood not too far away, his gaze steady, almost amused, as if he had been watching her the entire time. .The bodyguard stepped forward and bowed slightly.

“That her?” the man asked.

“Yes, boss.”

The old man nodded once, then again, his eyes still fixed on Isabella.

“Follow me.”He turned and walked toward the stairs, expecting her to follow.

Isabella hesitated for a brief second before moving..She followed him quietly, her steps careful, her heart beating just a little faster with each step. They walked down a hallway and stopped in front of a large door. He pushed it open and walked in. it turned out to be a study room. The old man walked behind the desk and took his seat. He gestured toward the chair in front of him as Isabella sat down slowly.

There was silence for a moment before he said “You know why you’re here?”

Isabella nodded.

“Words,” he said, his voice turning slightly colder.

A chill ran down her spine. “Yes… Sir,” she said softly. “I was sent here as a bride. To be married to…”

Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know who she had been sent to marry.

A sudden thought suddenly crossed her mind and her heart dropped..What if…?.Her eyes flickered up to the man sitting in front of her. No... he can't surely be the groom.

“To?” he repeated, watching her closely. Isabella stayed silent. The man studied her for a moment before giving a small nod, as if something had just been confirmed.

“I see,” he said. “You weren’t told who you were to marry.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He opened a drawer and took out a photo frame.He placed it on the desk and turned it toward her.

“I am Davis Crowne,” he said calmly. “And this is my son—Tavian Crowne. The man you are married to.”

Isabella looked down at the photo.

Relief washed over her quietly. At least… it wasn’t him.Her eyes stayed on the picture a little longer.

There was something about the man that felt familiar. The more she stared at the picture, the more she felt the strong feeling of familiarity. After a moment, she looked away.

“My son can be… difficult,” Davis continued, a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes were forming on his lips. “Cold, stubborn and he has a habit of keeping people at a distance but, he is not heartless.”

Isabella forced a small smile. “Yes, Sir.”

“Make an effort,” he added. “Get to know him. Be patient and persistent.”

Isabella nodded again, even though she didn’t understand why he was telling her all this. Moreover, even though her so-called husband was handsome, she had no interest in getting to know him more.

Why does it feel like… he’s preparing me. The thought stayed in her mind, but she didn’t dare speak it

out loud.

Isabella had no idea how much time had passed but, Davis Crowne kept talking, his voice steady, almost casual, as if this was a normal conversation and not something that had just changed her entire life. She sat quietly, listening when she had to, saying "Yes Sir" when it felt necessary. One thing became clear very quickly which is he liked to talk.

Eventually, he reached into his drawer again and pulled out a document. He slid it across the desk toward her. “Take a look.”

Isabella lowered her gaze and picked it up carefully. Her fingers felt slightly cold against the paper as her eyes scanned the words. It turned out to be a marriage certificate.

Her name was there and beside it was Tavian Crowne's name with ahis signature.Her grip tightened slightly around the paper. Davis handed her pen for her to sign and she did exactly that.

“So it’s already done,” Davis said calmly, leaning back in his chair. “Everything has been arranged.”

Isabella didn’t respond as she didn't’t know what to say.

“The ring you’re wearing,” he continued, glancing briefly at her hand, “is your wedding ring.”

Her eyes dropped to it and before she could process it any further, Davis waved a hand lightly.

“Take her to her room.” A maid stepped forward immediately. “Yes, sir.”

Isabella stood slowly with the paper and with a small nod, she followed the maid out of the room.

As they walked through the long hallway, her thoughts began to drift. Marriage..She had never imagined it would happen like this..Growing up, even with everything she went through, there had been a small part of her that held onto a quiet dream of holding a wedding ceremony. she didn't care if it was grand

and even seeing the man she would spend her life with.

But this… This wasn’t a dream. This felt like being handed over.

“Come in, ma’am.” The maid’s voice pulled her back. Isabella blinked and realized they had stopped in front of a door. The maid had already opened it and stepped aside, waiting for her to enter. Isabella nodded once and walked in. The moment she stepped inside, she paused as the interior of the room slowly sank in. The room was much larger than anything she had ever stayed in before. A king-sized bed sat at the center, neatly arranged. The walls were painted a soft grey, and the furniture matched the same tone—clean, modern, and expensive.

“Make yourself comfortable, ma’am,” the maid said politely..Then she turned and left.

Isabella stood still for a moment before her eyes moved toward the bed. Her small box sat on top of it.

She walked over slowly and opened it. There wasn’t much inside. Just a few clothes. So few that she could count them without thinking. She stared at them for a moment, then looked around the room again. Where was she even supposed to keep them? Her gaze shifted and landed on two doors.

After a brief pause, she decided to check them. The first door led to a bathroom—clean, spacious, and just as cold as the rest of the room. The second door… led to a walk-in closet. it was large, organized and filled up with men's clothes, shoes and watches with some other things she couldn't quite figure out. Isabella’s brows drew together slightly. If this was her room…Then why were there men’s clothes here? Before she could think any further, she heard a faint sound from the main room.

She stepped out of the closet and then she saw her a young girl sat in a wheelchair near the door. She looked no older than thirteen or fourteen. Her posture was straight, her hands resting calmly on her lap.

She was staring directly at Isabella with a blank expression.

Isabella hesitated for a second, then gave a small, polite smile.

“Hi…” The silence that followed felt heavy as the girl didn’t respond.

Instead, she slowly raised a brow, her expression shifting into something closer to annoyance.

“I see,” the girl said at last, her voice calm but sharp, “you’re one of those.”

Isabella blinked slightly. “One of those…?”

The girl leaned back slightly in her wheelchair, her gaze still fixed on her.

“The ones who come here pretending,” she continued. “Trying to get close to my brother for their own selfish reasons.”

Isabella’s fingers tightened slightly at her sides.

“That’s not—”

“Don’t bother,” the girl cut in. "you won't last up to a week before he throws you out or worse kill you."

Isabella ".............."