Isabel’s POVWhat Margot revealed was beyond anything I could’ve expected. A human trafficking ring? I knew this place was dark, but not like this. Not this vile.My thoughts drifted to Emerson. Had he woken up from his coma yet? If so, was he wondering where I’d gone? Could Michael, his secretary, have pieced together what happened after our phone call was abruptly cut off? I prayed he was looking for me. Maybe he’d be the one to discover the truth. And what about Emma and Robert? I was sure they must’ve thought my time had come. Maybe they assumed the tumor had finally claimed me, and I was just another tragic story.A wave of helplessness washed over me. If they thought I was dead, who would bother searching for me? But maybe, just maybe, Emerson would feel that something was wrong. If he woke up, he’d know something wasn’t right. He always said he could feel my presence, like a sixth sense. Somehow, he had always known when I was in severe trouble. The fire, the claustrophobia
Isabel’s POV“Guest? You mean…” I hesitated, unable to finish my sentence. A cold wave of dread washed over me as the implication of her words sunk in. The thought alone was unbearable.I couldn’t begin to imagine the trauma she had endured in this forsaken place. My heart ached for her. But fear clawed at my insides as well.Margot’s eyes darkened, filled with resentment and a bitterness that spoke of untold horrors. “It’s a group of perverted men,” she said, her voice low but laced with anger. “They like to collect young girls who are like dolls—pure, beautiful, but without souls. Obedient and quiet, just the way those monsters like them.”I couldn’t speak. My stomach twisted painfully at the thought of innocent girls, trapped here. Their lives were stolen from them. “Does that mean… many innocent girls have been victims?”She nodded, her expression grim. “Yes. Most of the girls in this mental hospital didn’t come here because they were sick. They were forced. The hospital made a de
Isabel’s POVThe room was dim, lit only by a single lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Margot sat next to my bed. Her hands were trembling slightly, as if the weight of her words was already too much to bear. I hadn’t anticipated the moment when she would finally open up about what had happened to her. But now, it was here. I could see the pain etched into every line of her face. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to hear it, but I knew she needed to speak.When I asked her what had happened, it was as if a dam had broken. Her eyes filled with tears, and before I could even react, she began sobbing uncontrollably. The sound of her despair cut through me like a knife. I wanted to reach for her hand, but the restraints wouldn’t let me."You don’t have to force yourself," I whispered, gently squeezing her hand. "You can take your time."Margot shook her head, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "No," she managed to say between shaky breaths. "I need to tell someone. I’ve been hol
Isabel’s POVMargot's words echoed in my mind, sending shivers down my spine. These people—the nurses, the doctors—weren’t just cold and calculating. They were real madmen.They were puppeteers pulling strings, with lives as their playthings. I wanted to shake off the chill, but it clung to me like a second skin.Margot suddenly raised a finger to her lips and motioned for me to lie back. Her expression shifted, transforming into the vacant, idiot-like look she had worn when I first met her. Someone must be coming.I followed her lead, making my body go limp as I closed my eyes. It was harder than I thought—forcing myself into stillness when every fiber of me was screaming to fight back.The door creaked open. The clicking of high heels entered the room. I could feel the nurse’s presence looming over us. I resisted the urge to peek, knowing that one wrong move could destroy everything. She hovered for a moment, inspecting me."Good girl," she muttered with cold satisfaction. "Finally l
Isabel’s POVMargot sat beside me. Her eyes were distant. Filled with memories that had been buried deep within her for too long. I could see the weight she carried. I knew that what she was about to share had shaped her entire existence. As she began to speak, her voice was quiet but steady.“I was born into what seemed like the perfect family,” Margot started, her gaze unfocused, as if she was seeing something far away. “My father, Houston Woods, was an officer in the military. A man of honor, respected by his peers. My mother was a politician—sharp, dedicated, always fighting for what she believed was right. And then there was my brother, my protector… He was a major in the army, following in our father’s footsteps.”There was a brief pause as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.“We were happy,” she said, almost to herself. “A family full of ambition, full of hope.” Her voice wavered. “But everything changed the day my uncle stepped into our lives.”Her words hung in
Isabel’s POV"I was tortured day after day in this hospital, Isabel. At first, I resisted, but that only made things worse. Eventually, the drugs got to me. I became numb, like a dol. Preparing for what they wanted me to be."Margot’s words clung to the air like a bitter fog, wrapping themselves around me. I tried to imagine her, once strong and vibrant. But now, she was crumbling under the weight of cruelty and betrayal. The thought of someone—let alone a family member—intentionally breaking a human soul like that made my stomach churn."But then," Margot continued, her voice wavering, "one day, the new nurse came. She was careless, didn’t follow protocol like the others. For the first time, I saw a crack in their perfect system of control."Her gaze shifted to me, searching my face for something—hope, maybe? Understanding? I wasn't sure what she saw. But I reached out, squeezing her hand.“You’re so brave, Margot. What they did to you—what they’re still doing—no one should have to
Emerson’s POVWhen I woke up, the pain in my head was blinding. The dull throb seemed to pulse through my entire body. I tried to focus, tried to remember what had happened. How long had I been out for? But my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps."Mr. Emerson, you're awake! How are you feeling?" The voice was concerned, almost panicked. A servant I barely recognized rushed over to help me sit up."I’m fine," I muttered, even though the ache in my skull suggested otherwise. "How long have I been unconscious?""Almost two weeks, sir. But I wasn’t the one taking care of you the first week.""Who was that?" I asked, my voice sharper than intended. The thought of anyone other than my close staff taking care of me made my skin crawl.The servant hesitated, his eyes darting nervously before answering, "It was Miss Isabel, but..." He trailed off, his expression uncertain, as if he feared saying more.A strange warmth spread through my chest. Isabel had been taking care of me
Isabel’s POVMargot stared at me with those wide, haunted eyes. Her usual mask of detachment was beginning to crack. Something about my words had gotten through. I could feel it. In a place like this, hope was elusive. A distant dream buried under fear and despair. But her life, I could tell, was never meant to be wasted in this cold, brutal place."You don’t belong here, Margot. You know that, right?" I said, trying to coax her past her doubts. "Your story isn’t over."She hesitated. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to speak but was still unsure whether to trust me or her fear. Her fingers absentmindedly twisted the fabric of her tattered dress."Are you familiar with the terrain?" I asked, my voice soft but insistent. We needed to think practically. I didn’t even know where we were. "If we’re going to escape, I need to know how to get out."Her eyes flickered with something—memory, or maybe fear. "I... I know some of it," she whispered. "Once, when I pretended to lose my mind, I r
Isabel’s POVThe judge’s gavel struck with finality, reverberating through the courtroom. “Victor Woods is hereby convicted on all charges,” the judge declared. A sense of justice filled the air, but it was laced with bitterness. Victor’s self-inflicted demise had robbed the survivors of a complete reckoning.The room was heavy with tension. Each attendee was digesting the events that had just unfolded. Victor had escaped his ultimate punishment, leaving behind unanswered questions and a fresh wound for those who had longed to see him truly held accountable.Elias stood at the front as Victor’s body was taken away. His face was pale, his usually steadfast demeanor cracked. His jaw was tight, and his eyes were clouded with frustration and anger. I wanted to reach out to him, to thank him for all he had done. But the weight of everything that had just happened made the words stick in my throat.As the courtroom began to empty, I stepped forward, determined to speak with Elias. But befo
Isabel’s POVThe courtroom erupted into a storm of murmurs and gasps as I stood there. My real family’s name—Sullivan—sliced through the air like a thunderclap. Some whispered about my identity, others speculated about the scandal unfolding before their eyes.“Order in the court!” the judge barked, her gavel striking down hard. The noise subsided into a tense silence. But curiosity lingered in every corner of the room. The judge leaned forward, her expression stern but intrigued. “Approach the stand,” she commanded, her voice sharp.I held my head high, letting the weight of every eye in the room settle on me. My heels clicked against the polished floor as I walked with measured, deliberate steps toward the witness stand. Years of pain, silence and waiting coiled within me. But outwardly, I was calm—poised.Victor’s lawyer shot to his feet, his veneer of professionalism cracking. “Your Honor, this is highly irregular. This witness—”“Sit down,” the judge cut him off, her glare slicin
Isabel’s POVThe courthouse room was small, almost claustrophobic. With its plain beige walls and a single monitor broadcasting the trial. I sat at a wooden table, my gaze locked on the screen. Victor Woods, the man who had ruined so many lives, sat at the defendant's table. His expression was calm, almost smug. He denied every charge with unwavering confidence. His lawyer was weaving a defense so skillful it seemed to turn lies into the truth.My fists clenched tightly in my lap, nails biting into my palms. The rage simmering beneath my skin threatened to boil over. But I forced myself to remain composed. I had waited years for this. Justice was so close. And yet, Victor’s smug defiance made it feel miles away.“Miss, here are your medical records, the injury assessment, and the recording,” my secretary said softly, placing a stack of documents on the table. Her voice was gentle but hesitant, as though she feared what my next move might bring. “Are you sure you want to do this?”I
Emerson’s POV“Daddy, where are you going?”I paused mid-step, turning to see Liam standing in the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His hair was a tousled mess, and his favorite blanket hung limply from his small hand. Despite the early hour, his innocent gaze pierced through me like sunlight through storm clouds.“You’re awake so early, my son,” I said, scooping him up into my arms. His warmth was comforting, grounding me in a way little else could.Liam tilted his head, curiosity shining in his eyes. “Are you going to see Mommy?”His words froze me in place. My grip on him tightened slightly, and I shot a questioning glance at the nanny standing just behind him. She shifted uncomfortably.“I… I think it’s because of your sleep talk, sir,” she admitted hesitantly. “Back when you went to visit Isabel’s grave every day, you, uh... Every time you returned, you’d call her name in your dreams.”“Oh… I see,” I muttered, my shoulders slumping slightly.The maid’s gaze softened as she c
Sebastian/Elias’ POV“Sir, the trial is about to begin.”Carter’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I nodded curtly, tightening my tie in the reflection of the courthouse window. My heart beat heavily, not with fear but with the weight of a mission that had spanned years. This was the day Victor Woods would finally face the consequences of his actions—a day I had dreamed of since I was a boy.Victor had taken everything from me: my father, my family, and the life I should have had. After Isabel left with the Sullivans, I threw myself fully into my revenge. My promotion following the intel I had provided about the hospital incident gave me the leverage I needed to expose the truth. Emerson's power and influence had been a useful tool. The path to today was carved with blood, sweat, and unrelenting determination.I inhaled deeply, steadying myself. The courthouse doors loomed large before me. But my mind slipped back to a day I will always cherish… The day I had finally shown Victor m
Isabel’s POVThe line was silent for a moment before a confused voice came through. "Sorry, who is this?" Robert asked, the faint sound of papers shuffling in the background.I almost laughed but held it back, savoring the moment. “It’s Isabel,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’m back in Rivermont.”There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by a stunned, almost disbelieving, “Isabel? Is it really you?”“It sure is,” I confirmed, letting the warmth in my voice convey what words couldn’t.The line went quiet again, but this time I could sense the emotion on the other end. “I—I can’t believe it,” Robert finally stammered. “After all this time…”“Well, believe it,” I replied lightly, though my heart felt heavy with the weight of all the years of silence between us. “I’m here, and I thought we should catch up.”“Yes,” he said immediately, his voice a mix of urgency and relief. “When? Where?”We arranged to meet at a quiet café on the edge of town. It had once been a favorite
Isabel’s POVThe weight of the key in my hand felt symbolic. It was a tangible marker of the new life ahead. As I slid it into the ornate lock of my new villa, a sense of determination settled over me. The door swung open, revealing a sprawling space with high ceilings, marble floors, and expansive windows that offered breathtaking views of the city skyline. Eric had outdone himself in finding us the best place on the market.This wasn’t just a home. It was a declaration of power and potential.Elena’s gasp brought a smile to my face. “This place is huge!” she exclaimed, her wide eyes darting around the opulent foyer.“It is,” I said, squeezing her small hand. “But no matter how big it is, it’s still just a house. We’ll make it a home.”She nodded, her excitement dimming slightly as she turned thoughtful. “Like we did back home, in Sicily?”“Exactly,” I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Together.”The maid Eric had arranged for us, a cheerful woman named Claire, greet
Isabel’s POVEric’s words stayed with me long after our conversation. The trust he placed in me, the belief that I could bring Liam back, was both empowering and terrifying. I had spent so long building myself up—physically, emotionally, and mentally—but leaving meant stepping into the unknown again.That night, as I began packing my suitcase, the reality of it all hit me. The familiar comfort of my family estate in Sicily would soon be replaced by the harsh world I had left behind. Yet, this time was different. I was different.A soft rustle near the door caught my attention. I turned to find Elena peeking in, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.“Elena? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked gently, setting down the folded dress in my hands.She hesitated, then stepped into the room, clutching her favorite stuffed bunny. “Are you… leaving me?”Her words pierced through me like a knife. I knelt down to her level, holding her tiny hands in mine. “Oh, sweetheart, no. I could never
Isabel’s POVThe days in Eric’s villa on the south coast of Sicily unfolded like a slow, beautiful symphony. The house itself was a marvel of understated elegance, perched on a hill with sweeping views of the ocean. The soft sound of waves crashing against the cliffs became the background music to my new life.Eric had spared no effort to make me feel welcome. My room was spacious and airy, its large windows letting in the golden morning light. Elena, the spirited little girl Eric had adopted, often wandered in without knocking. Her giggles filled the space as she clambered onto my bed or rummaged through my things with innocent curiosity.“Isabel, come look!” Elena called one morning, dragging me out of my study. She had found a butterfly in the garden and insisted we follow it. Her laughter was infectious as she darted through the roses, her tiny hands trying to catch the delicate creature without success. She reminded me so much of Liam—her curiosity, her boundless energy, and th