Hungry Much

Isabella 'S POV

Three days in the hospital passed by in a blur, and they were torturous. Each night felt even more depressing than the last. I was either just staring at the ceiling for hours straight or conversing with the nurses to give myself some sort of social life.

Malakai , on the other hand, still visited every day, even if he didn’t stay long. I found it hard to be comfortable around him. How am I supposed to trust someone that easily? After everything that happened with Colin.

The door pushed open, pulling me out of my trance. Malakai walked in with one hand in his pocket, looking as composed as he always has. While here I was, an absolute mess.

“We’re leaving today.” He said, putting down a bag on the bed. I couldn’t hide the small amount of relief that rushed through me. This hospital felt like jail. “Change into these.” He said, motioning towards the bag.

I walked into the bathroom, avoiding the mirror like I always did these past few days. It was hard to get used to. The face I now had was beautiful, yes. Stunning even. But it wasn’t the face I had grown familiar with over the past 27 years.

The outfit was a simple pair of black jeans and a top; it wasn’t anything Isabella would have worn. I never wore outfits like this. 

“Not bad.” Malakai said, glancing at his watch as I walked out, I almost wanted to roll my eyes, and I would have if it wouldn’t make the headache I already had worse. 

“I’m glad you approve.” I said, my voice holding obvious sarcasm, which Malakai didn't pay any mind to. 

The air outside the hospital was different, and I couldn’t believe this was the first time I’d been outside in six months. I couldn’t hide the admiration in my eyes as I took in my surroundings.

“You used to travel a lot.” Malakai said as a chauffeur opened the door to the car.

“Yes, but I’ve never been to Italy before.” I replied, staring out the windows as the car began to move. It had always been on my bucket list; Italy was where I wanted to have my honeymoon with Colin. I’m glad it never happened.

The car eventually stopped at a sprawling mansion; the architecture wasn’t like anything I was used to back in London. With Malakai in front of me, we walked in through the huge front doors. The maids instantly turned around, a smile on their faces as they saw him.

“Bentornato, signore.” They all said, their body language comfortable. I didn’t understand Italian, but it was common sense to think they meant welcome.

“Grazie, è venuta zia Rebecca mentre ero via?” Malakai Replied, and my eyes shot up at him. I’ve never heard him speak in Italian before, and his accent was a stark contrast to his clear English. His voice in Italian almost sounded like silk, if silk even has a sound. It sounded like something else entirely.

“No, non l'ha fatto, signore.” The maid who seemed to be in charge replied, and Malakai nodded in acknowledgment. The maids turned to me, still smiling.

“Bentornato,” they said again. I didn’t know what to say. I just nodded, forcing a smile.

Malakai led me upstairs. “This is your room; you should relax and get some rest; dinner is in three hours.” The room was spacious and minimal, though luxurious. It wasn’t something I would’ve liked a few months ago. It wasn’t something Isabella would have liked.

“Thank you.” I said, and he simply nodded before walking out, leaving me alone. I walked into the room, my mind racing. Is this it? I’m now going to live in the same space as a stranger. Though he wasn’t as much of a stranger now. It was still weird to me why he’d just offer to help with no ulterior motive.

I walked into the bathroom, shut the door, and let the water run over me. The scent of hospital soap was still stuck to my skin. As I showered, I tried to push away the thoughts, tried to force myself to believe this was real. The closet was huge, and what shocked me more was that it was full to the brim with clothes, almost as if he was expecting me all this time.

Hesitating, I walked to the vanity and looked at myself. I needed to get used to my new face. This is you, Isabella . This is your face. I convinced myself, because Malakai ’s words still rang in my head. ‘Do you think you're strong enough for that? You're falling apart over your face, Isabella . What makes you think you can get revenge when you're losing your mind over a scar?’

There was a knock on the door. I opened it, and a maid with a polite smile greeted me. She spoke English with a thick Italian accent.

“Dinner is ready, ma’am.”

I nodded, muttering a quick thank you. I followed her downstairs, where Malakai was already sitting at the table.

It was just me and Malakai . The food in front of me made my mouth water. I had only been eating hospital food for the last few days.

And before I knew it, I was practically inhaling the meal; it felt so good to have a home-cooked meal. As I picked up a napkin to wipe my mouth, I heard a quiet snort, and I looked up; Malakai was clearly stifling a laugh, and only then did I realize how I was stuffing down food. 

“What?” I asked defensively; I felt like covering myself in a blanket from embarrassment. Malakai shook his head.

“Hungry much?” His tone was almost mocking, and I furrowed my brows.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, though I perfectly understood his words.

“You’re eating like you’ve been in jail for the past eight years.” He said, eating a bite of his food.

“I-“ I began but lost my words.

“So unlike Isabella Monroe , isn’t it?” He asked, and I looked up at him. Indeed, it was so unlike Isabella , shoving down food like I hadn’t eaten in years. For the first time, I see a full-on smirk on Malakai ’s face. He was enjoying seeing me embarrass myself.

“You should get some rest after dinner. Tomorrow, we will discuss who you’ll be from now on.” He said, wiping his mouth before leaving the table.

Later that night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. A new room, a

new face, a new country… and soon, a new name.

How am I supposed to adjust to this new life?