Isabella slowly blinked her eyes open, greeted by soft sunlight and the warm comfort of her bed. She stretched with a satisfied sigh, still wrapped in the peaceful afterglow of a perfect sleep. Just as she sat up, the door creaked open and in walked Leonardo—with a mischievous grin on his face and a giant, pink teddy bear tucked under one arm. In his other hand were two coffee cups.
He walked up to her like he was presenting a royal gift. "Good morning, princess," he said warmly, handing her a coffee cup.
On one sleeve, it read Cream, and the other, Sugar. He passed her the Sugar one.
Isabella smiled and took a long sip. "Mmm. Sweet and warm—just how I like it," she whispered, eyes sparkling.
Leonardo handed her the teddy bear next. "And this... is for you."
Isabella gasped. The bear was huge and fluffy—adorable in the kind of way that made her heart flutter. She immediately hugged it tightly.
"You're spoiling me," she murmured, nuzzling the bear. But then, she caught the subtle sadness in his eyes.
"What is it?" she asked softly.
Leonardo hesitated, then let out a breath. "I've got to leave today. The company called. There's an emergency I need to handle."
Isabella blinked, her smile faltering. "So... that's why the bear and coffee?" Her voice was light, but her eyes shimmered with something deeper. "A bribe?"
"No," he said quickly, sitting beside her. His hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "So that when you hold it, you'll think of me."
He leaned closer, his forehead gently resting against hers.
"You're my beautiful princess," he whispered.
"I'm not that beautiful," she muttered bashfully.
Leonardo chuckled and tilted her chin up. "If this isn't beauty, then I don't know what is." He kissed her tenderly. It wasn't rushed—it lingered, warm and heartfelt. Her arms wrapped around his neck.
"You're not going to miss me, huh?" he teased, eyeing the teddy bear in her lap.
"I'll miss the coffee," she smirked.
"You're cruel," he laughed, pulling her into another quick kiss. "But I'll be back soon. And when I come back... I want a real cuddle."
"We'll see," she teased as she got up to shower and get dressed.
Minutes later, dressed in a flowing blue gown, Isabella said goodbye to Leonardo at the front door. His hand lingered in hers a little longer than necessary. Neither wanted to let go.
---
As Isabella stepped into her father's mansion, the weight of the atmosphere immediately pressed down on her. Francis and Clara were already in the living room, tension thick in the air.
"Good morning," Isabella said quietly.
"Good morning," they echoed, their tones hollow.
She was halfway up the stairs when her father's sharp voice pierced through the air.
"Lisa Isabella Thompson Taylor!"
Her feet froze. He only used her full name when he was livid.
"What was that stunt you pulled yesterday?!" Francis bellowed.
"I didn't pull any stunt! I just did what I had to do," she said, trying to remain calm.
"Isabella, just admit you were wrong," Clara said, arms crossed.
"I wasn't wrong," Isabella shot back, her voice firmer now.
"Can't you at least show some respect and call me 'Mother'?" Clara snapped.
Something inside Isabella cracked. Her breath caught, and her hands clenched at her sides.
"Respect? From me? After what you did?"
Everyone went still.
"You gave me that drink. That drugged drink. You handed it to me with a smile, pretending you cared. And don't even pretend you didn't know—it had Charlie written all over it. I told you we were enemies, and still... you did it."
Clara's face paled, but Isabella wasn't done.
"And don't think I forgot the pool incident either. Charlie pushed me in, and you stood there—watching. You didn't flinch. You didn't move. You watched me struggle in the water and smirked like I was getting what I deserved."
Clara took a step forward. "That's not—"
"That is the truth!" Isabella snapped. "And now you want respect? You want me to apologize?!"
Francis, already boiling, stepped forward and slapped her across the face.
"Apologize to her and call her 'Mother,' now!" he roared.
Isabella's face turned sharply with the force of the blow. But she didn't cry. She slowly turned back to face them, eyes burning with quiet rage.
"Why should I apologize when she's the one who betrayed me?"
"You will do as I say, or else—!"
"Or else what?!" Isabella yelled. "You'll kick me out? You'll throw me to the curb for refusing to grovel at the feet of the woman who helped Charlie drug me and humiliate me?"
Francis' eyes narrowed. "If you walk out that door, you're not coming back. You'll go stay with Lucas. And don't even think about seeing Alex or Lucien again."
"Fine," she said coldly, already heading upstairs. "Sounds like peace."
"You haven't apologized!" Francis shouted after her.
"I'm not sorry," she called back. "And I'm leaving."
---
Aunt Sophia followed her into the room. "Reconsider, Bella. Please."
Isabella looked at her with softened eyes. "I've made up my mind. I can't stay where I'm not safe."
She packed swiftly, taking only the things she truly needed. She had already sold a few designer items that were no longer of use—still worth a lot despite their age. Everything important fit into four large suitcases: her clothes, a few framed pictures, and the soft pink teddy bear Leonardo gave her that morning.
Aunt Sophia helped her carry the luggage to the car, eyes glassy with emotion.
"Take care of yourself," Sophia whispered, hugging her.
"I will."
---
The ride was long and quiet. Mac kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing at the rearview mirror to see Isabella curled up in the back seat, fast asleep with the teddy bear in her arms.
They arrived hours later in a quiet, distant city.
"We're here," Mac said softly.
He got out, opened the door, and carried her gently in his arms. She stirred slightly, mumbling his name, but didn't wake.
Mac's relationship with Isabella was deeper than most would ever understand. He'd been assigned to protect her as a baby, but over time, he had become more than just a bodyguard. He was family—a father figure when no one else stood in that place.
And right now, he knew one thing for sure:
Wherever Isabella went, he'd make sure she was safe.