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119: The first confrontation

Author: Makie P
last update Last Updated: 2025-10-06 23:55:27

Isabella's POV

I stood at the sink scrubbing pots, my hands red and raw from the hot water and soap. The dinner rush was in full swing, and the kitchen was loud with shouting chefs and clanging pans. My leg ached from standing for six hours straight, but I couldn't stop. If I stopped, Papa Rosetti might think I was lazy.

"Isabella, more clean plates!" one of the cooks yelled at me.

"Coming!" I called back, grabbing a stack of dried plates and carrying them to the line.

This was my life now. Washing dishes, scrubbing grease, carrying heavy stacks of plates while my leg screamed in pain. While Elena lived in a mansion with servants who probably did her dishes for her.

The unfairness of it burned in my chest like fire.

I limped back to the sink and plunged my hands into the hot, dirty water. Grease floated on the surface, and bits of food stuck to the sides of the pots. This was what Elena reduced me to.

"Table seven needs bread," Maria called out from the dining room.

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  • Revenge is Best Served Cold   138: Surveillance

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  • Revenge is Best Served Cold   137: The perfect trap

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  • Revenge is Best Served Cold   136: The final straw

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  • Revenge is Best Served Cold   135: Eyes and ears

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