Isabella’s POVThe warm scent of freshly made pancakes wafted through the room as I stepped out of the bathroom. My hair was still damp, and the hotel robe clung to my frame. I paused in the doorway, my eyes landing on the tray of food set on the small dining table.Pancakes, berries, syrup, and coffee. It looked as perfect as something out of a magazine. But my stomach clenched, not in hunger, but in dread.I stayed by the bed, gripping the edge of my robe as my mind spiraled. It’s just food, Isabella. Normal, safe food. So why won't I just stop being overdramatic?But that gnawing, irrational fear whispered otherwise. What if it wasn’t? What if…“It’s not poisoned.” Nicholas’s deep voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. My gaze snapped to him in shock, only to find him already seated at the table, a fork in hand. He cut into the pancake with calm precision, lifted a bite to his mouth, and chewed slowly before swallowing.“You don’t need to worry about that, Sunshine,”I stared at
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