Isabelle sighed, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. "I don't know, Kelvin. It's all just so much. I feel like I'm losing myself in all of this." Kelvin sat down on the edge of the bed, his expression softening. "It's understandable, Isabelle. This is a lot for anyone to handle. But remember, you're not alone in this." Isabelle looked at him, a question forming in her mind. She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Kelvin, can I ask you something?" "Of course," he replied, his tone encouraging. "Why did you become a bodyguard? I mean, you're so... handsome and capable. You could have done anything. Why this?" Kelvin chuckled softly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "That's a fair question. It's not something I talk about often, but I suppose you deserve to know." Isabelle settled back against the pillows, curious to hear his story. Rose, sensing the change in atmosphere, rested her head on Isabelle's lap. "I grew up in a pretty tough neighborhood," Kelvin began, h
Kelvin chuckled softly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "That's a fair question. It's not something I talk about often, but I suppose you deserve to know." Isabelle settled back against the pillows, curious to hear his story. Rose, sensing the change in atmosphere, rested her head on Isabelle's lap. "I grew up in a pretty tough neighborhood," Kelvin began, his voice taking on a reflective tone. "My family didn't have much, and life was a constant struggle. My father left when I was young, so it was just me, my mother, and my younger sister. I had to grow up fast, take on responsibilities that most kids my age didn't have to think about." Isabelle listened intently, her eyes fixed on Kelvin as he spoke. "When I was a teenager, I got into some trouble," he continued. "I was angry and frustrated with our situation, and I made some bad choices. But then I met someone who changed my life—a mentor who saw potential in me and helped me turn things around. He taught me discipline, self
The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft golden glow over the estate, when Isabelle was gently awakened by her loyal dog, Rose. The day had finally arrived—the day she would marry Collins. A flurry of emotions washed over her: anticipation, nervousness, and a small but persistent flicker of hope. The maids entered her room with soft footsteps, their arms laden with an array of tools and accessories. They greeted her with polite smiles, sensing the gravity of the occasion. Isabelle sat up, rubbing her eyes and taking a deep breath, steeling herself for the long day ahead. "Good morning, miss," the head maid said, her voice calm and reassuring. "Let's get you ready for your big day." Isabelle nodded, rising from the bed and allowing herself to be guided to the dressing area. The maids set to work, drawing a warm bath infused with soothing lavender oils. Isabelle sank into the tub, closing her eyes and trying to relax as they washed and conditioned her hair. After the bath, the m
As Isabelle stepped into the grand wedding hall, her eyes fell upon the variety of people who had gathered to witness her union with Collins. The hall was a sea of elegant dresses and sharp suits, with the scent of fresh flowers mingling with the faint hum of conversation. The decorations were breathtaking, a testament to the care and attention that had gone into planning this day. Her gaze drifted over the crowd, and suddenly, she spotted two familiar faces that made her heart skip a beat. Her mother, dressed in a beautiful deep blue gown, stood next to her best friend, Stacy, who was wearing a stunning bridesmaid dress that complemented Isabelle's own bridal gown. The sight of them filled her with a rush of emotions—joy, confusion, and relief all mingling together. Isabelle's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't seen her mother or Stacy since she had been taken by Collins, and their sudden appearance here at her wedding was both bewildering and comforting. She had worried about them
Minutes turned into hours, and yet Collins never appeared. The murmurs from the crowd began as quiet whispers, but soon they grew louder, filling the grand wedding hall with a low hum of gossip and speculation. Isabelle stood at the altar, her heart pounding and her mind racing with confusion and dread. She could feel the stares of the guests, their eyes boring into her with judgment and pity. "What is this man doing?" Isabelle muttered under her breath, her voice trembling. She tightened her hands around the small bouquet she held, the knuckles turning white from the pressure. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground beneath her feet threatening to give way at any moment. The grand doors of the hall opened, drawing everyone's attention. Isabelle turned to see a group of rich-looking people entering. They carried an air of authority and wealth, their presence commanding immediate respect from those around them. Two older couples and a middle-aged couple wa
The officiant nodded respectfully and stepped aside. Isabelle took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. The guests began to move toward the reception area, their whispers a constant reminder of the humiliation she was enduring. She felt a mixture of relief and frustration, knowing that she had no choice but to wait for Collins' explanation. Vivian and the other family members stayed close, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity. Isabelle's mother and Stacy flanked her, offering silent support as she tried to navigate the emotional storm brewing inside her. "I can't believe this is happening," Isabelle muttered to Stacy, who gave her a sympathetic smile. "I know it's hard, but we have to trust that Collins has a good reason," Stacy replied. "And remember, we're here for you no matter what." Isabelle nodded, though the knot of anxiety in her stomach refused to loosen. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The day had been a whirlwind of emotio
Collins attempted to focus on her, his expression a mix of regret and defiance. "None of your business, pookie," he slurred. Isabelle's jaw dropped in disbelief, but before she could respond, Collins staggered up to the altar. The officiant, looking uncomfortable but dutiful, stepped forward to proceed with the ceremony. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..." the officiant began, but his voice was drowned out by the shocked murmurs of the crowd. Isabelle felt a wave of nausea and dread wash over her as Collins took her hand, his grip unsteady. She could barely focus on the words being spoken, her mind racing with confusion and fear. "Do you, Isabelle, take Collins to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?" the officiant asked. Isabelle hesitated, glancing at the crowd. Her mother, Stacy, and Kelvin all looked at her with worry etched on their faces. She took a deep breath and n
The night was eerily quiet, the kind of stillness that seemed to hum with hidden anticipation. A lone figure lay in a bed draped in silken sheets, her breath soft and even as she drifted into the sanctuary of sleep. The only light came from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the grand windows, casting delicate patterns across the room. The air was heavy with the scent of lavender, a scent meant to lull even the most troubled mind into slumber. But that peace was shattered by the blaring sound of a phone. The princess stirred, her delicate fingers reaching out lazily for the device. The screen was a harsh contrast against the dark, and she squinted as the brightness flooded her sleepy vision. A series of messages awaited her, their notifications relentless. She sighed, a sense of dread settling in the pit of her stomach as she read the texts. Of course, it was them. Who else could it be at this ungodly hour? Her so-called best friends since high school—Ashley and Abigael. T
Collins attempted to focus on her, his expression a mix of regret and defiance. "None of your business, pookie," he slurred. Isabelle's jaw dropped in disbelief, but before she could respond, Collins staggered up to the altar. The officiant, looking uncomfortable but dutiful, stepped forward to proceed with the ceremony. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..." the officiant began, but his voice was drowned out by the shocked murmurs of the crowd. Isabelle felt a wave of nausea and dread wash over her as Collins took her hand, his grip unsteady. She could barely focus on the words being spoken, her mind racing with confusion and fear. "Do you, Isabelle, take Collins to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?" the officiant asked. Isabelle hesitated, glancing at the crowd. Her mother, Stacy, and Kelvin all looked at her with worry etched on their faces. She took a deep breath and n
The officiant nodded respectfully and stepped aside. Isabelle took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. The guests began to move toward the reception area, their whispers a constant reminder of the humiliation she was enduring. She felt a mixture of relief and frustration, knowing that she had no choice but to wait for Collins' explanation. Vivian and the other family members stayed close, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity. Isabelle's mother and Stacy flanked her, offering silent support as she tried to navigate the emotional storm brewing inside her. "I can't believe this is happening," Isabelle muttered to Stacy, who gave her a sympathetic smile. "I know it's hard, but we have to trust that Collins has a good reason," Stacy replied. "And remember, we're here for you no matter what." Isabelle nodded, though the knot of anxiety in her stomach refused to loosen. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The day had been a whirlwind of emotio
Minutes turned into hours, and yet Collins never appeared. The murmurs from the crowd began as quiet whispers, but soon they grew louder, filling the grand wedding hall with a low hum of gossip and speculation. Isabelle stood at the altar, her heart pounding and her mind racing with confusion and dread. She could feel the stares of the guests, their eyes boring into her with judgment and pity. "What is this man doing?" Isabelle muttered under her breath, her voice trembling. She tightened her hands around the small bouquet she held, the knuckles turning white from the pressure. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground beneath her feet threatening to give way at any moment. The grand doors of the hall opened, drawing everyone's attention. Isabelle turned to see a group of rich-looking people entering. They carried an air of authority and wealth, their presence commanding immediate respect from those around them. Two older couples and a middle-aged couple wa
As Isabelle stepped into the grand wedding hall, her eyes fell upon the variety of people who had gathered to witness her union with Collins. The hall was a sea of elegant dresses and sharp suits, with the scent of fresh flowers mingling with the faint hum of conversation. The decorations were breathtaking, a testament to the care and attention that had gone into planning this day. Her gaze drifted over the crowd, and suddenly, she spotted two familiar faces that made her heart skip a beat. Her mother, dressed in a beautiful deep blue gown, stood next to her best friend, Stacy, who was wearing a stunning bridesmaid dress that complemented Isabelle's own bridal gown. The sight of them filled her with a rush of emotions—joy, confusion, and relief all mingling together. Isabelle's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't seen her mother or Stacy since she had been taken by Collins, and their sudden appearance here at her wedding was both bewildering and comforting. She had worried about them
The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft golden glow over the estate, when Isabelle was gently awakened by her loyal dog, Rose. The day had finally arrived—the day she would marry Collins. A flurry of emotions washed over her: anticipation, nervousness, and a small but persistent flicker of hope. The maids entered her room with soft footsteps, their arms laden with an array of tools and accessories. They greeted her with polite smiles, sensing the gravity of the occasion. Isabelle sat up, rubbing her eyes and taking a deep breath, steeling herself for the long day ahead. "Good morning, miss," the head maid said, her voice calm and reassuring. "Let's get you ready for your big day." Isabelle nodded, rising from the bed and allowing herself to be guided to the dressing area. The maids set to work, drawing a warm bath infused with soothing lavender oils. Isabelle sank into the tub, closing her eyes and trying to relax as they washed and conditioned her hair. After the bath, the m
Kelvin chuckled softly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "That's a fair question. It's not something I talk about often, but I suppose you deserve to know." Isabelle settled back against the pillows, curious to hear his story. Rose, sensing the change in atmosphere, rested her head on Isabelle's lap. "I grew up in a pretty tough neighborhood," Kelvin began, his voice taking on a reflective tone. "My family didn't have much, and life was a constant struggle. My father left when I was young, so it was just me, my mother, and my younger sister. I had to grow up fast, take on responsibilities that most kids my age didn't have to think about." Isabelle listened intently, her eyes fixed on Kelvin as he spoke. "When I was a teenager, I got into some trouble," he continued. "I was angry and frustrated with our situation, and I made some bad choices. But then I met someone who changed my life—a mentor who saw potential in me and helped me turn things around. He taught me discipline, self
Isabelle sighed, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. "I don't know, Kelvin. It's all just so much. I feel like I'm losing myself in all of this." Kelvin sat down on the edge of the bed, his expression softening. "It's understandable, Isabelle. This is a lot for anyone to handle. But remember, you're not alone in this." Isabelle looked at him, a question forming in her mind. She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Kelvin, can I ask you something?" "Of course," he replied, his tone encouraging. "Why did you become a bodyguard? I mean, you're so... handsome and capable. You could have done anything. Why this?" Kelvin chuckled softly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "That's a fair question. It's not something I talk about often, but I suppose you deserve to know." Isabelle settled back against the pillows, curious to hear his story. Rose, sensing the change in atmosphere, rested her head on Isabelle's lap. "I grew up in a pretty tough neighborhood," Kelvin began, h
Isabelle woke up the next morning to the sound of birds chirping outside her window. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Rose, her loyal dog, lay curled up at the foot of her bed, her eyes opening as Isabelle stirred. Isabelle reached down to scratch behind Rose's ears, smiling at the comfort her furry companion brought her. As she got out of bed and began her morning routine, Isabelle's mind wandered back to the previous day. The time spent with Kelvin had been a welcome distraction, and she felt a renewed sense of determination to face the days ahead. Today, she knew, would be filled with more preparations for the wedding, but she was resolved to stay strong and keep a clear head. After dressing in a simple but elegant outfit, Isabelle made her way downstairs to the kitchen. The mansion was quiet, the staff already bustling about their duties. She found Kelvin in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He looked up and smiled when he sa
Isabelle sat on her bed, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. She felt drained, both physically and emotionally, and the weight of the recent events pressed heavily on her shoulders. Despite her efforts to stay awake and make sense of everything, her exhaustion overcame her, and she dozed off, sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep. She did not wake up until the next day. It was Rose, her loyal dog, who woke her, jumping on her and licking her face. Isabelle groaned, blinking groggily as she pushed herself up. She felt disoriented, her body stiff from sleeping in the same position for too long. The events of the previous day came flooding back, and she sighed heavily, rubbing her temples.Before she could fully gather her thoughts, there was a knock on the door. Isabelle's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly got up, her legs still shaky. She opened the door cautiously, expecting another confrontation with Collins or one of his minions.Instead, she was met with a group of m