The Princess' CEO

ISABELLE POV

The tray rattled in my hands the second I let it down.

“Are you blind?!” the woman snapped, jerking backwards. The afternoon sun pouring through the glass windows lit up every inch of her irritated face.

I froze. “I’m…. I’m sorry, ma’am—”

“Sorry?” the woman scoffed loud enough for the whole cafe to hear. “You can’t even place a tray properly? God, this is why some people stay stuck in dead-end jobs.”

A few customers turned to stare. I swallowed the burning sting in my throat and lowered my head, refusing to meet the woman’s glare.

“You are so reckless,” the woman snapped. Grabbing her purse and standing. “People like you should stick to sweeping gutters. Not serving humans.”

She stormed out, heels clicking, leaving the restaurant buzzing with the aftertaste of drama.

I walked straight ahead, with my head still lowered. I didn’t dare meet anyone’s eyes. I reached the washroom and sank to the floor, letting my petite body slump. My hands went to my face as I started sobbing quietly.

“Why can’t I just do things right?” I whispered between shaky breaths. 

My phone vibrated, but I ignored it. The second buzz made me glance at the screen. Mrs Coleman. I immediately tried to process why my neighbour would be calling me and swiped to answer.

“Isabelle, your mother collapsed. Come to the hospital now, hurry.”

I stood up from the floor, without hesitating or processing what I just heard. My blonde hair whipped over my shoulders as I bolted out, not caring who saw my trembling, tear-streaked face.

In no time, I burst through the sliding doors of the hospital, my heart hammering in my chest. I scanned the reception area so frantically. 

“Where is my mother? Where is she?!” I demanded, my voice cracking.

The receptionist froze, eyes widening. She looked very confused. “I… I… I don’t know… who–”

My gaze darted towards the end of the lobby, and relief hit me in a rush. Mrs. Coleman, my neighbour, stood there with a doctor by her side. Without thinking, I ran to her, gripping her arms.

“What happened to my mother? Tell me! Tell me what happened!” 

Mrs Coleman’s eyes glistened with worry. “She collapsed at home, Isabelle. She was talking to me, and then she collapsed. She’s in a coma.”

My chest tightened painfully. Tears blurred my vision. “A coma? What’s wrong with her?”

The doctor stepped forward, expression heavy. “Isabelle,” he said gently but firmly, “your mother has stage four cancer. She hasn’t been on chemotherapy… She hasn’t received any treatment at all. Ignoring it has made things significantly worse.”

My breath hitched, and tears streamed down my face. I shook my head slightly, refusing the words.

“She’s in a coma now,” the doctor continued. “We need to operate immediately. Lastly, tomorrow morning.”

“Then do it,” I said, voice breaking. “Just… please do it. Why are we waiting?”

He exhaled slowly.

“We can’t perform the surgery without the required deposit. It has to be paid before we move forward.”

He handed the paperwork to me. My eyes widened as I saw the number. My stomach dropped. I have never seen or heard that amount of money.

“I…” My voice cracked. “I don’t have that.”

“Without the deposit, we can’t proceed.”

Two big fat tears streamed down my cheeks.

Mrs. Coleman touched my arm softly. “Isabelle, stop crying. I.. I can give you my savings, but it is so little. It won’t make a dent in this.”

I swallowed hard and immediately threw my arms around the older woman, hugging her with desperate gratitude. “Thank you,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Thank you so much.”

“I’ll give you a moment,” Mrs Coleman whispered, before slowly pulling me back. “Your mother is in Room 212.”

She stepped away, leaving me standing alone in the hallway. 

I practically ran towards the room, my vision blurred, my hands trembling as I pushed the door open.

My mother lay still on the bed, tubes connected, chest rising faintly under the thin hospital blanket. I rushed to the bedside, knees almost buckling as I grabbed my mother’s cold hand.

“Mom…” My voice cracked. I lowered my head until my forearm nearly touched my mother’s arm. “I’m so sorry… I never noticed. I never saw how much you were hurting.”

I cried so hard that my whole body trembled, and a painful sob escaped my chest.

My mother has been suffering, and she didn’t say anything. I think it’s because I sometimes acted so tired. It’s all my fault, I’m a bad daughter. I’ll do anything to raise the money for your surgery before tomorrow morning. I can’t lose you, mom. You’re literally my whole life. What would I do without you?!

My left hand moved closer to my chest, curling tight, squeezing the ache inside. My mind raced desperately, “Where do I get that kind of money? There is only one person I know with that kind of money.

My Father.

I’m not on talking terms with my Father, I mean, he left my mother and me for a wealthy woman. That gold-digger man didn’t even look back. I promised myself I would never go to him for help.

But at this point, I can sacrifice my ego, dignity, and even break all the promises I made to myself, just for my mother. She’s my whole world.

I sniffed hard, wiped my tears with the back of my palm, and leaned down to kiss my mother’s forehead gently. “I’ll be back soon, Mom,” I whispered. “I’m going to save you. I promise.”

And with one last look at my mother’s still face, I turned, straightened my shoulders, and walked out of the hospital– heading straight to the home of the man who abandoned me.

******************************************.

The Hart estate sat like a kingdom in the hills, sunlight glinting off its marble columns and silver gates. Luxury cars lined the driveway. Burly security guards flanked the entrance.

They glanced at my stained apron, trembling fingers, messy blonde hair, and immediately frowned.

“I need to see Mr. Hart,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.

“Do you have an appointment?” one of the guards asked.

Ugh… An appointment to see my father. How ridiculous. “He’s my father.” I managed to say.

The statement made the guard blink and exchange glances with others before speaking on the radio.

I waited for about thirty minutes with my head lowered, avoiding stares from the guards. The gates finally opened, and I was actually surprised because I thought he would keep me out here for the whole day. My father stepped out to the porch, his suit crisp, his watch gleaming, his expression carved from ice.

“Isabelle.”

Just hearing him say my name made my chest ache. “Dad… I need help. It’s Mom. She’s dying. She needs urgent surgery. Please, I–”

He raised his hand, silencing me instantly.

“You showed up after all these years only because you needed money?”

I froze, tilted my head backwards, tears streaming from my eyes. “You abandoned us because of money, too dad, and y– you expected me t-t-to ju just accept it,” I said shakily.

His jaw tightened. “Get out, Isabelle. I owe you and your mother nothing.”

“Dad–”

“Guards,” he snapped, already turning away. “Throw her out.”

“Wait, no–NO!” I lunged forward, but two guards grabbed my arms. “Please! She will die! PLEASE!”

My father didn’t look back.

The guards dragged me across the driveway and tossed me outside the gate. I hit the ground hard, knees scraping against concrete.

“Ouch,” I said with shaky breaths…

I never in my life thought this would be the outcome, but I had no choice. So I stood up, ran towards the gate, and started banging it hard.

“DADDDDDDDD…. SHE’S GONNA DIE.” I said with tears streaming down my face. “PLEASEEEEE DAD, PLEASEEE.”

I stopped banging on the gate and clutched my chest with my left hand, placing the right one on the top, curling it tight as I took deeper breaths.

I stopped when I noticed someone's eyes piercing through me. So I looked up and saw a man in a Black Mercedes. I could barely see his face with the shades he wore.