All Chapters of His Unwanted Witness : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Isadora sat against the tiled wall, her wrists throbbing from the ropes. Her legs were cramped, and her throat felt dry. Hours passed in silence, and she didn’t know if it was morning or night. The lights in the room never changed.She thought she was alone.Until the door handle turned.Isadora’s breath caught.The door opened slowly, and Lorenzo stepped inside.He wasn’t angry.He wasn’t shouting.He didn’t even look rushed.He looked calm.Almost too calm.He closed the door behind him and stood there, watching her. His eyes scanned her face, her posture, the bruises on her wrists.Isadora stared at him with cold hatred burning inside her.“Are you comfortable?” he asked softly.She almost laughed. “You tied me up and kept me in a room like a prisoner. What do you think?”Lorenzo approached her slowly, kneeling in front of her. She tensed immediately.He reached behind her and touched the rope.“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m untying you.”Isadora didn’t relax. She kept her back stiff a

Isadora woke up to the sound of waves crashing against rocks outside. For a moment she didn’t remember where she was. She blinked slowly, staring at the soft golden light pouring through the curtains. The room looked calm, warm, almost peaceful. Too peaceful.Then it hit her.The island.The boat.The ropes.Lorenzo.Her breath caught in her throat as she sat up quickly. The movement sent a sharp pain through her shoulders, reminding her of how tight the ropes were yesterday. She rubbed her wrists, wincing at the red marks.She looked around.No guard in the corner.No locked door.No chains.The room was empty.And the door was slightly open.Her heart began to pound hard. He had left it open. On purpose. Like he wanted to see if she would run. Like he was testing her.The breakfast tray near the bed didn’t help her nerves. Two plates. Fresh bread. Eggs. Fruit. Tea still warm.She didn’t touch any of it.Her stomach twisted too much for food. She stood up slowly, pressing a hand on t

The sun had not fully risen yet. Only a faint orange glow touched the windows when Isadora woke up. Her body felt stiff, her mind heavy, but sleep refused to stay. The events from the night kept replaying — Lorenzo watching her at dinner, the silence, the tension, the way his eyes lingered on her as if she belonged to him already.She pushed the blanket aside and sat up slowly.Everything felt wrong.Everything felt too quiet.She stood and looked around the luxurious room. The gold lamps, the polished tiles, the neatly arranged furniture… nothing here matched the storm inside her chest.“I need to clear my head,” she whispered.She walked to the door and stepped into the hallway. The mansion felt colder this morning. The silence did not feel peaceful. It felt heavy, like something was sitting on her chest.She walked further down the hallway, listening to the faint hum of the ocean outside. Every room she passed felt too neat, too untouched.Then she reached a part of the hallway she

Isadora took a clean cloth and dipped it again into warm water. She squeezed it carefully and pressed it against Alina’s back. Alina hissed sharply.“I know,” Isadora whispered. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”Alina shook her head. “It is not your fault. Pain is normal here.”“No,” Isadora said. “It shouldn’t be.”The room was silent except for Alina’s slow breathing and the soft sound of water dripping from the cloth. The morning light entered through the window, pale and cold. The mansion outside was calm. Too calm.But Isadora could still hear echoes of the screams in her head.She wiped the dried blood gently. “We need to bandage this.”“There is a box,” Alina whispered. “Inside the wardrobe.”Isadora stood and opened it. There were bandages, antiseptic, painkillers. She brought them to the chair.“You… you keep these here?” Isadora asked.Alina closed her eyes. “Always. After every punishment.”Isadora froze for a moment.Her hands shook.She tried to imagine how many times this ha

Evening arrived with a strange quietness.The house felt tense, like the walls were holding their breath.Isadora walked into the dining room. The long table was already set. Plates, wine glasses, silver cutlery. Candles burned slowly in the chandeliers, making the room glow gold and warm.But she felt no warmth.Lorenzo sat at the head of the table. His posture was straight. His eyes calm. His fingers tapped slowly against the table.He watched her enter.“Sit,” he said.Isadora took the seat opposite him. She lifted her chin and met his eyes without fear.“You look tired,” he said.“I am fine.”“Good.”Silence fell. Heavy. Thick.Then the door opened.Isadora’s heart twisted.Alina entered.She held a tray with soup bowls. Her face was pale. Her arms and back were stiff, still healing from the whipping. Each step looked painful, but she did not make a sound. She kept her eyes down.Isadora almost stood from her chair.“What is she doing here?” Isadora asked sharply.Lorenzo looked a