Isabella By the time I finally manage to button the last blouse, the room feels impossibly still. Gabriel’s jacket is gone. The balcony door is shut. Only the soft hum of the estate outside reminds me that the world continues beyond this bedroom.I take a deep breath, trying to steady the rapid beat of my heart, and slip on my shoes. The warm sunlight streams through the French doors, casting golden stripes across the floor. It makes me dizzy with how ordinary it all feels—yet how charged the air is after last night.I step outside onto the terrace, holding my breath as I descend the steps slowly, trying not to stumble over the unfamiliar quiet of the morning.Halfway down, I’m stopped by the soft rustle of movement.“Good morning, Ms. Isabella,” comes a calm, familiar voice.I turn, slightly startled, and find the maid standing at the bottom of the steps, hands folded politely in front of her. Her expression is gentle, almost knowing.“Gabriel…?” I start, but she shakes her head wit
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