Isabella Roosevelt As he reached for the handle, he looked back at me one last time, his eyes cold and devoid of any warmth. “And, Isabelle…” His voice was low, chilling. “Don’t think about running. I’ll find you.” Panic surged through me, and before I could stop myself, I screamed, “Wait!” Lucas paused, his hand still on the door, his expression inscrutable as he turned back to face me. My legs felt like they were going to give out from under me, but I forced myself to stay upright, to confront the reality of my situation. “Please,” I begged, my voice breaking as the tears spilled over once more. “I’m not scared of prison—I’m scared of my father. If he finds out I got caught… he’ll never forgive me. He’ll disown me. He will kill me.” Lucas’s gaze remained steady, unyielding. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, calculating, assessing the worth of my words. I knew I had to convince him, had to make him understand that my fear wasn’t of the cold, hard walls of a prison, bu
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