All Chapters of His Unwanted Witness : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Isadora lay awake long after the lights dimmed, listening to the house settle into its controlled silence. Pipes whispered behind the walls. Footsteps passed at measured intervals. Somewhere far below, metal clinked against metal—keys, gates, systems locking into place.She did not move.Movement attracted notice.She breathed slowly, evenly, counting the seconds between each guard’s pass outside her door. The rhythm was steady. Predictable. Comforting to those who believed predictability meant safety.For her, it meant opportunity.When morning finally arrived, it came without warmth. Pale light slid across the floor, stopping just short of the bed. Isadora opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.Three people.One chance.She rose quietly and dressed without hurry. Every gesture was deliberate. She did not want to look like someone preparing for something. She wanted to look like someone surrendering to routine.Routine was camouflage.She stepped into the corridor and began walki

Dinner was already set when Isadora was told to come downstairs.The dining room lights were softer than usual. Candles burned at the center of the long table, their flames steady, deliberate. The air smelled warm. Fresh bread. Cooked meat. Herbs. It felt wrong. Too calm. Too intentional.Isadora stepped inside slowly.Lorenzo stood at the head of the table, adjusting his cufflinks with unhurried precision. He was dressed simply tonight. No jacket. White shirt. Sleeves rolled just enough to look casual. Controlled.He looked up and smiled.“Isadora,” he said warmly. “You came.”Her body stiffened at the sound of her name spoken like that. Gentle. Familiar. Almost kind.“You asked,” she replied, keeping her voice neutral.“Yes,” he said. “I did.”Then he gestured toward the door behind her.“And I asked for Alina and Amelia as well.”Isadora turned sharply.Alina stood just inside the doorway, frozen. Amelia hovered beside her, clearly confused, her hands clenched tightly together. Nei

The summons came just after noon.A knock at Isadora’s door. Firm. Controlled. No hesitation.She was sitting at the small desk, pretending to read, when the sound landed. Her body reacted before her mind did. Her shoulders stiffened. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the page.She already knew who it was for.“Miss Isadora,” a guard said from the other side. His voice was neutral. Professional. “You are requested in Mr. Lorenzo’s room.”Requested.The word meant nothing here.Isadora stood slowly. She smoothed her dress, not because she cared how she looked, but because routine steadied her. She walked to the door and opened it.Two guards stood outside now.Not one.Two.She took that in without comment.“Lead the way,” she said.They did not walk beside her this time. They walked slightly behind. Close enough that she could feel their presence. Close enough to remind her that the space she moved through was no longer hers.The house felt different.Quieter, but not calm.Doo

The kitchen was warm.Not the forced warmth of luxury, but the real kind that came from fire, steam, and work. Pots simmered gently on the stove. A pan hissed softly as oil met heat. The smell of onions and herbs filled the air, steady and grounding.Isadora stood at the counter slicing vegetables with slow, even movements. Each cut was deliberate. Each sound of the blade against the board calmed her nerves in a way nothing else had managed to do that morning.Amelia sat on a stool nearby, peeling garlic carefully. Her hands still shook sometimes, but she focused hard, determined not to drop anything.Alina moved between them and the stove, stirring, tasting, adjusting. Her motions were practiced. Confident. This was the only place in the house where her body did not tense with every sound.The kitchen had always been hers.For a while, no one spoke.Only the sounds of cooking filled the space.Then Amelia broke the silence.“Alina,” she asked quietly, “how long have you worked here?”

Next MorningMorning came quietly.Isadora woke before the bell.She lay still for several seconds, eyes open, listening. The estate had a rhythm. She had learned it. Guards changed positions before sunrise. The house breathed differently in the early hours. Floors creaked less. Voices stayed low. Even the ocean sounded farther away at this time, like it was holding its breath.She sat up slowly.Light slipped through the curtains in thin lines, pale and cool. The garden outside looked calm again, but she did not trust it anymore. Yesterday had changed how she saw everything. Beauty here was never innocent.She swung her legs off the bed and stood.Her body felt tight, alert. Not fear. Readiness.She washed her face, dressed carefully, and smoothed her hair back. She chose simple clothes. Nothing that suggested movement. Nothing that suggested planning.When she opened the door, the corridor was already awake.A guard stood near the corner.New.He did not look at her directly, but sh