Ethan got into his car, glancing one last time in the rearview mirror at Isabelle and Liam. They were walking toward Liam’s car, their silhouettes illuminated by the restaurant’s lights. Ethan frowned as he started the engine, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.“Why does it feel like they’ve known each other forever,” he muttered under his breath. “They even have this… chemistry. How did they even became close to the extent that they know each other's homes?”He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the road. “No. Isabelle and I look better together. We have better chemistry. Liam’s just her boss, that’s all, and it's temporary, we'll be out of Anderson Corp very soon.”Still, the thought lingered in his mind, gnawing at him as he drove down the quiet streets.Halfway to his home, the sharp sound of metal scraping against metal jolted Ethan from his thoughts. His car lurched forward slightly from the impact of the vehicle behind him. “Argh..my neck. Damn it,”
Isabelle hung up the call and stared at her phone blankly for a while before thinking about what to do. “Take me to this address,” Isabelle instructed the taxi driver, her voice barely above a whisper as she handed him her phone.The driver glanced at the screen and frowned. “This area’s pretty quiet, it was about to be redeveloped but redevelopment was stopped because a murder case happened there. Miss, are you sure this is where you need to go?”“Yes, just take me there.” Isabelle said firmly, clutching her bag as if it were a lifeline.The ride was silent, except for the hum of the engine and Isabelle’s restless breathing. Her thoughts raced, replaying Peter’s sinister words over and over.When they arrived, the driver hesitated before unlocking the doors. “This place doesn’t look safe. Do you want me to wait? Or… should I call the police?”“No, please don't bother.” Isabelle replied quickly. “It's nothing much. I’m just visiting a friend. I’ll be fine.”The driver gave her a skep
The taxi driver pulled up at the police station, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. Luckily, it was the same police station, Liam and Isabelle came to and got information about Peter Crane. He stepped out and approached the desk, where a detective was sorting through papers.“Excuse me,” the driver said, his voice firm but uneasy. “I need to report something strange.”The detective looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Okay sir, Have a sit. What’s the issue?”The driver explained the odd situation, describing Isabelle’s nervous demeanor and the desolate location she had asked to be dropped off at.“It seems like the young woman is in danger, judging from how she quickly changed address and the way she talked to the person on phone. You should go there quickly” “What’s her name?” the detective asked, jotting down notes.“Isabelle Rivers,” the driver replied.The detective froze for a moment. “Isabelle Rivers… hold on, I'll be back” He walked briskly to another office, returnin
Liam’s car screeched to a halt outside the desolate location Detective Walker had directed him to. The air was tense, the street eerily quiet except for murmurs of the policemen who looked confused there. Liam stormed out of his car, his eyes darting around for any sign of Isabelle.Detective Walker approached him, his expression grim. “We’ve searched the area thoroughly, Mr. Anderson. There’s no sign of her here.”Liam clenched his fists, his frustration boiling over. “What do you mean by there's no sign of her? This is an abandoned and desolate area! Have you checked every corner? You said the driver said he dropped her here! So why isn't she here? You’re just not looking hard enough!”“Calm down!” Walker said firmly. “We’ll find her, but you have to let us do our job. Remember that she's not the only one missing, Mr Ethan Evans is missing too and Peter Crane probably captured both of them. If you keep letting all your emotions in like this, it'll be hard for the policemen here
Liam stormed into the station, his determination written on his face. Detective Walker was in the middle of briefing his team when he noticed Liam.“Mr Anderson. You're here again. What now?” Walker said, his tone weary. “You should rest. You’re no good to anyone if you’re running on fumes. What if you break down? Also, I thought you went to see Ethan, how is he?”“I’m not here to rest or bother you to look for her,” Liam replied sharply. “I came here to give you a lead.”Walker raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”“Ethan was awake when I got to the hospital. I talked to him and he told me what happened. That bastard mentioned a place where he's taking her. He called it The Playhouse,” Liam said firmly. “I'm sure Isabelle would be there. How can we find any playhouse? You should know something since you've treated his case before.”Walker froze for a moment before gesturing to his officers. “Check the case files on the computer. I know I've heard of that place before. There was a repo
Liam sat slumped in a hard plastic chair, his hands clasped tightly as he stared at the surgery room doors. Every time a nurse walked in or out, his head jerked up, his heart clinging to the faint hope of good news. But the silence was deafening, and the weight of the uncertainty crushed him.He heard the sound of wheels squeaking against the tiled floor and looked up. Ethan was being pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse, his face pale but determined.“Liam,” Ethan said as the nurse stopped beside him. “What’s happening? How’s Isabelle?”Liam sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “She’s still in there. They haven’t said anything yet.”“That bastard eventually hurt her. How did it even happen?” Ethan said, clenching his fists in anger.“He knew he was already screwed up and would eventually be caught by the police. He wanted to kill her anyway, according to him, he didn't want anyone to have her. That bastard.”Ethan’s jaw tightened. “What about Peter? Did they get him? Don
Liam’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove through the narrow streets leading to Isabelle’s childhood home. He knew Isabelle's childhood home, he knew that streets too well, the place he ran away from leaving someone he loves, the memories made there never left him and he would never forget, and now, as the weathered sign bearing "Rivers Residence" came into view, he felt a wave of unease wash over him. The house was nothing like what he remembered from years ago when he lived in the area and frequented the house. The paint was chipped, and the front yard was overrun with weeds. The place looked so neglected. Liam parked in front, taking a deep breath before stepping out.“This is for her,” he muttered under his breath.He walked up to the door and knocked firmly. For a moment, there was no response, but then he heard shuffling footsteps. The door creaked open, revealing an older man with graying hair and tired eyes—Isabelle’s father, Mr. Rivers.“Who are you?” Mr. R
The house was warm and lively as Frank parked the car and helped Isabelle out. She felt a mix of emotions—relief to be back home and unease at what awaited her. Her body was still weak, but the week of recovery had helped her regain some strength.Inside the house, Mary Jane and Mrs. Aldric stood waiting in the living room. As soon as Isabelle stepped in, they rushed toward her, pulling her into a tight embrace.“Isabelle!” Mary Jane exclaimed, tears brimming in her eyes. “I was so worried. Thank God you’re okay.”“We’ve been praying for you, dear,” Mrs. Aldric added, her voice trembling. “You’ve been through so much.”Isabelle hugged them both, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Both of you are here. I missed you so much, you didn't have to come, Mrs Aldric.” she said, her voice breaking.“Huh? You were hospitalized. How could I not come?” Mrs Aldric said, patting her back lovingly.Mary Jane pulled back and smiled warmly. “Come in, sit down. You need to rest.”Isabelle looked around
The mansion buzzed with a quiet kind of excitement. The long dining table was set with care—silver cutlery gleaming under the golden glow of the chandeliers, delicate flower arrangements gracing the center. The aroma of seasoned lamb and buttery pastries wafted through the air, hinting at the feast to come.Isabelle stood near the front door, hands clasped nervously in front of her. She had dreamed of this day—having everyone she loved under one roof again. After all she had endured—the loss, the memory gaps, the painful separation from Liam—this moment felt like a long-awaited exhale.And right now? She was glowing.Liam walked past her with a wine glass in hand, stealing a kiss on her cheek.“Stop looking so nervous,” he whispered, grinning. “They’re not coming to judge you. They're coming to love you.”She swatted his arm playfully. “I know, I know. But still... it feels surreal.”First to arrive was Mary Jane, the warm, kind-hearted housekeeper who’d become more like family. She w
Isabelle stirred slowly, the warmth of Liam’s arms wrapped protectively around her. The early sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft lines across the sheets. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.With a soft groan, she reached out for it, trying not to wake him.Frank.She swiped to answer. “Hello?”“It’s almost 7:30, Isa. Remember the reporters. You meet them at 9:30.”“Yeah… thanks for the reminder,” she said softly.As she ended the call and set the phone down, Liam shifted behind her, pulling her closer with a sleepy murmur.“Where are you going…?” he whispered, his voice husky.She turned to face him, brushing her fingers through his hair. “To tell my truth.”“I don’t want you to leave yet…” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.“I have to.” She smiled gently and kissed him. “But I’ll come back to you.”He held her gaze. “Should I go with you?”“No,” she whispered. “This… I want to do myself.”He sighed, then reluctantly let her slip from his embrace.—A few hou
The front door creaked open as Liam stepped inside, shoulders sagging under the weight of exhaustion. The house was quiet, too quiet. He called out softly, "Isabelle?"No response.He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe he was imagining things again, letting hope trick him into thinking she'd magically stay since she said she was coming to check the house. But then—there it was. The faint clinking of a spoon against porcelain, coming from the kitchen.Liam's heart jumped. He moved swiftly, quietly, not daring to believe.There she was.Standing by the kitchen counter, back turned to him, wearing his hoodie. Her hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, and she was stirring tea. Calmly. Casually. As if nothing had happened."Isa?" he breathed.She turned.Their eyes met.It felt like the world slowed down. Her lips parted, her eyes welled with tears, but her expression was warm. Familiar." Wanted to see if your hoodie fits me now." She smiled, tugging at the hoodie she was w
The night was quiet, too quiet for Isa’s restless mind.She tossed in bed, limbs tangled in the sheets, her breath uneven. In the silence, her dreams stirred.In that dream, she was back in that cold, dark house.Richard’s voice thundered in her ears, cruel and venomous.“You think you can disobey me?” he snarled, hand raised. His palm connected harshly with her cheek. The sting was real. Her knees buckled, and she crumbled to the ground, sobbing.Richard towered over her with a face twisted by rage. He was yelling. No—screaming. Words she couldn’t decipher, fists clenched. She was crying, shielding herself from the blows he rained down on her like a stormThe pain. The shame. The betrayal.Isa gasped and bolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Her hand flew to her chest, her heart hammering like a drum. “It was just a dream,” she whispered. “Just a dream…”But it hadn’t felt like a dream. It was vivid. It was sharp. The emotions still clung to her like smoke after fire.She reache
The living room was dimly lit, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound echoing through the space. Richard sat alone, nursing frustration in his chest like an old wound that refused to heal. A half-finished glass of water sat untouched on the table beside him. It wasn’t enough—not tonight.He stared blankly ahead, mind spinning with thoughts of Isabelle.She had gone to bed hours ago. Peaceful. Silent. Untouched.The problem was… he wanted to touch her. He wanted to kiss her until she remembered everything. Until she remembered him.But she didn’t. Or maybe she did—and was pretending.He wasn’t sure what was worse.Richard grabbed his phone and dialed a number he knew would answer. It rang only once.“Laura,” he said, his voice low, tired. “Can you come over?”A pause.“Now?” she asked, surprised.“Yeah. And bring something strong. Alcoholic wine. The kind that numbs things.”“I’ll be there in twenty.”---It was closer to fifteen.The doorbell rang, and Richard rose, brush
The air was warm, the scent of lavender faint and lingering. Isabelle stirred slowly, her lashes fluttering as she blinked her eyes open. A ceiling she didn’t recognize greeted her—a smooth white expanse with subtle carvings, the kind of detail that hinted at elegance and time. Her body was nestled into soft sheets, and as she shifted slightly, a faint sense of déjà vu pricked at her.She sat up slowly, confusion painting her face. This place—where was she?It wasn’t familiar… but it didn’t feel strange either.Her eyes scanned the room. Cream-colored walls, soft curtains swaying by the windows, a dresser lined with photos turned away, a full-length mirror positioned directly in front of the bed. Something about the mirror pulled her in. Her heartbeat quickened as a flicker of a memory danced through her mind—sitting in front of that mirror, smiling at her reflection. Then, a man’s reflection appeared behind her in the memory, lying on the bed, gazing at her with love in his eyes.Her
Sunlight filtered through the curtains of the unfamiliar room, warming the side of Isabelle's face as she slowly opened her eyes. Her lashes fluttered, then her eyes fully opened, and she stared at the pale blue ceiling above her. The sheets wrapped around her were crisp and smelled faintly of lavender. Her gaze swept across the room—white walls, minimal décor, a large mirror on one end, and a single framed photo on the nightstand. A wedding photo of her and Richard.That was the only photo in the room. In fact, now that she thought of it, the whole house seemed bare, emotionless, like a showpiece rather than a lived-in home.Isabelle sat up slowly, confusion clouding her expression. If I’ve really lived here for four years… why doesn’t it feel like home? She hadn’t even figured out where the toilet was without exploring yesterday. The bed, the furniture, even the scent of the room—it all felt foreign.Her eyes dropped to the handbag on the armchair beside the bed. She reached for it,
Isabelle looked at herself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at her wore soft blue jeans and a cream-colored blouse—finally something other than a hospital gown after weeks. It should’ve made her feel better. It didn’t.She forced a small smile and stepped out of the bathroom. Richard was seated on the couch in the hospital room, scrolling through his phone. He immediately stood up when he saw her."Hey, shall we go?" he asked, eyes lighting up.Isabelle hesitated. "Uhm, are you done with my whole discharge process?"Richard nodded confidently. "Yeah, I am. Why?"She frowned, feigning a pained expression. "Babe, I think I'm still having headaches. Can you tell the doctor and see if I can get some medicine from the pharmacy?"Richard's smile didn't falter. "Pain? I can't allow that. Let's go together, so you can explain to him well."She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her temple. "I'm a bit tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Can you go alone? I’ll wait here. J
Richard and Isabelle returned to the room, Richard still holding her protectively, like she would disappeare into Liam's arms if he doesn't hold her that way. Estella was in the room, pacing around, waiting for them. As soon as they entered, she sighed." When did you go out?! Do you have any idea how hard it was to look for you? I almost made a fool out of myself with the nurses." Estella shouted.Isabelle smiled slightly. " I told you I was stepped out for some air, you probably didn't hear me because you were so focused on your phone."Estella rolled her eyes. " If I didn't give you permission, you weren't supposed to step out! Isn't that how it works?"" Hey!" Richard shouted at Estella. " Don't talk to her that way. Because she's sick and you're watching over her for a while doesn't mean you're older or better. Know your place." He said with a stern expression on his face.Estella went quiet for a while before apologizing to Isabelle for speaking to her harshly, not that she me