Chapt 16. Two Years Can’t Change a Person’s Nature

Dominic Lancaster’s presence was suffocating. He looked at Sophia Harrington, and in that moment, it felt as though he could see the darkest secret of her.

Sophia flinched and her composure cracked. She took a small step back, clutching her crutch tighter, her voice soft and pitiful. “Yes. Isabella said… if my brother Adrian broke up with Clara, she would agree to be with him.”

Dominic let out a derisive laugh, though the sound carried no humor. His gaze was icy, lethal.

So it was true. Two years in prison hadn’t changed Isabella Crater’s nature at all.

“Dominic,” Sophia pressed on, her heart twisting as she recalled the scene she had just walked in on, “she’s entangled with Adrian, and now she’s trying to cling to you as well. She’s so shameless, I can’t help but worry. Who knows what kind of diseases a woman like that might carry? You should really keep your distance from her.”

The word “shameless” ignited something dangerous in Dominic’s eyes. His expression darkened further, voice dripping with frost. “Who I choose to keep close… is not for you to decide.”

Sophia’s eyes instantly welled with tears, her lips trembling as though she were on the verge of breaking. “Dominic, I’m only concerned for you. I didn’t mean anything else.”

Her tear-stained face looked fragile and beautiful, her sorrow a painting of tragic delicacy.

But Dominic only stared at her, his expression unreadable, the silence stretching heavy between them.

“Everything I’ve done,” Sophia whispered, clutching his sleeve timidly, “is for your sake.”

“I know exactly what all of this is for.” His eyes glinted with disdain as he brushed past her, striding toward the door. “Don’t use your petty schemes on me. They disgust me.”

The words struck like a lash. For an instant, Sophia felt all color drain from her face. She reached out, wanting to stop him, but he was already gone, his tall figure disappearing into the corridor.

Left behind, she stared down at her weakened left leg, her grip on the crutch tightening until her knuckles turned white. Her delicate features twisted with anguish, and for the first time, bitterness carved across her soft beauty. “Dominic… I’ve given you so much. Why can’t you see me?”

Meanwhile, Isabella Crater stumbled back into her dormitory. The moment the door shut behind her, she slumped against it, her eyes vacant and hollow.

For a long time, she simply stood there, numb. Then, as though suddenly remembering something, she raised a hand to her lips and scrubbed hard at the faint trace of blood left behind by Dominic’s cruel kiss.

She rubbed until her skin stung, until the metallic taste of blood seeped into her mouth again. Tears blurred her vision, falling freely, mingling with the bitterness. The salt, the iron, the humiliation—it all tasted like despair.

After ten long minutes, she finally dragged her aching body to the narrow bed, collapsing in exhaustion.

But there was no luxury of rest. She had six hours to sleep before she would be required to put on her uniform again, to clean, to work. To survive.

Tonight, though, survival felt like an uphill battle.

Her stomach clenched with a sudden burn, waves of searing pain radiating outward.

The door creaked open. “Isabella?” Amy’s voice cut through the silence. She gasped at the sight of her friend’s pale face. “What’s wrong?”

Isabella forced a weak smile, her voice hoarse. “It’s nothing. Just… stomach problems.”

“Nothing? You’re trembling!” Amy rushed over, grabbing her arm. “We’re not waiting this out. There’s a pharmacy nearby. I’ll go with you to get medicine.”

“…Thank you.”

After buying medicine, the two stepped out into the cool night air, waiting for a cab. Just as they were about to leave, a voice rang out across the quiet street.

“Bella?”

That voice—familiar, so painfully familiar. Her pupils shrank, lips parting as if to respond, but no words came out.

“Bella, it really is you!” A tall man strode toward her, his handsome face lit with both disbelief and joy. His features bore a striking resemblance to hers, softer only in the warmth of his expression. He placed a hand on her thin shoulder. “It’s really you.”

Isabella’s lips trembled. The word “brother” formed at the edge of her tongue, but her throat constricted, refusing to let the sound escape.

Sensing the moment, Amy offered quietly, “I’ll wait for you over there.”

Isabella gave her a faint nod.

“Why didn’t you come find me after you got out?” Ethan Crater’s voice cracked with guilt and pain as his gaze swept over her frail frame. The weight of two years pressed down on him; two years of knowing his family had abandoned her, two years of being powerless to help. He had begged, fought, only to be locked away himself while his sister was dragged to prison.

Isabella tucked a loose strand of uneven hair behind her ear, her throat dry. “I didn’t have time.”

She had planned to see them once more, to take one last look at her family before ending it all. But then Dominic Lancaster had appeared, derailing her every intention.

A gust of autumn wind swept down the street, its chill burrowing into her bones. She shivered involuntarily.

A warm weight fell across her shoulders—a tailored suit jacket, heavy with his familiar scent.

“You’re freezing. Why aren’t you dressed properly? And these clothes—what is this? This looks like a janitor’s uniform.” His brows furrowed in disbelief, his tone tinged with both anger and sorrow. “When did your taste sink this low?”

Isabella lowered her gaze, hiding the storm in her eyes. “It’s not fashion. It’s my job. I’m… a cleaner now. This is the uniform.”

Ethan’s world was tilting in disbelief.

The little sister he had once cherished—the girl pampered like a princess, shielded from hardship—was now wearing a cleaner’s uniform, reduced to scrubbing floors for survival.

And it shattered him.