Isabella stumbled into the restroom and she finally let go. She didn't sob. She didn't scream. She just stood: hands on the vanity, staring into the mirror, eyes glazed. Still. She felt numb, like she'd been floating above, watching everything unfold at the dining.
Her phone pinged, piercing through the haze and she quickly reached for it. Except. It wasn't him.
Lizzy: Isabella, could we talk, please?🙏
She skipped the message and tapped the one just below it. The one she hadn't stopped checking since dinner started. Nothing still.
He hadn't texted back or called.
The silence rang in her ears. Her throat constricted and the hand holding her phone came down on the vanity with a smash.
*Does anyone see me? Am I that expendable?*
Her vision blurred and she raised her eyes to the ceiling instinctively, blinking hard.
"Don't fucking cry," she muttered.
Nothing she did could stop the tears. It was like it had a mind of its own. She twisted the handle on the vanity, placed a hand under the rushing water and proceeded to splash it on her face.
*I used to pride myself on not crying. Now it feels like I'm drowning in the very tears I'd buried.*
"What the hell did that night do to me? What did he do to me?"
A soft knock on the door broke her reverie. She reached for her clutch bag, fished a wipe out and dabbed on her face. The knock came again and this time, a voice accompanied it.
"Isabella. Gràdh. I know you're in there." (Love)
*Fiona.*
She chucked the wipe into the waste basket in the corner and unlocked the door, Fiona's worried face coming into view.
"I'm fine, Aunt Fiona," she said the moment the door was shut behind them.
Fiona took in her face, the phone on the Vanity and her terse words. She nodded.
"I'm sure you'll be," she answered. She picked up the phone, scanned the cracked screen. "You'll need a new one."
"It's just a few cracks, nothing serious." Isabella reached out, took the phone from her.
She felt like rubber banded glass — all surface sheen, all internal tension.
"Are you talking about yourself or the phone?"
Isabella pressed her lips together. Fiona sighed.
"An elastic heart," Fiona said, catching her attention. She frowned. "Not a heart of steel, not a heart of fire. Elastic. One that'd been stretched, tore, healed and bent again.
Isabella looked away from her assertive gaze. "Even elastic has limits," she muttered.
Sometimes it just felt like elastic wrapped too tight. Like a scream stretched over bone.
"What's yours?" Fiona shot back.
*What's my limit? Do I even have one?*
"If you don't figure that out, realize what it is and protect it, you'll stay under your father's ironclad hands," Fiona continued. She stepped closer, placed warms hands on Isabella's cheeks. "Don't wait until you're stretched too thin, Tesoro." (Treasure)
Tears pooled in Isabella's eyes again.
"You're the strongest Lady I know but even the strong break at some point. Don't wait until they pull too hard. Until the blade becomes too sharp. Until you go slack." Fiona breathed out heavily. "You might not recover from that moment."
Fiona leaned in, brushed a kiss against her cheek. "You did good," she murmured. "You stood."
"Thank you," Isabella muttered.
"Don't thank me, Lass," Fiona said with a chuckle. "You should go home. Take a nap. Run a bath. Anything that helps you relax."
Isabella nodded.
"I called a designated driver," Fiona continued as they made their way out of the restroom. "He's already outside waiting."
Gratitude bloomed in Isabella's heart and she fell into Fiona's arms. She shut her eyes and imagined she was hugging her mother. It definitely felt like it.
A throat cleared behind her. Isabella pulled away to find Isla and Elizabeth standing there. Isla looked anything but pleased. Elizabeth looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Mama, the board members are asking for you."
Fiona nodded and turned to Isabella. "Where are you staying? I came to your condom a few times while the whole thing was escalating online, you were never there."
"Oh. I was at María's. I'll be back though, since I need to—"
Fiona nodded in understanding. "Take your time. I can speak to head of construction if you need a few days," she offered.
Isabella shook her head. "I'll be fine. Thank you for the offer."
Fiona hesitated. "You're not going to reach out if you need help, are you?"
In spite of herself, Isabella smiled. "I will keep it in mind."
Fiona sighed, took Isabella's hands in hers and squeezed. "Take care of yourself and tell María I said thank you."
Isabella nodded and Fiona turned, strode away. Isla's followed after her mother, her heels clicking as she did. Elizabeth came closer, stretched out the hand that held the document from earlier.
"I—I was asked to give you this."
Isabella took it without a word. "Thanks."
"I—I really had no choice, you know I can't—"
"Not now, Elizabeth," Isabella stopped her. "I've the right to stay angry at you a little longer."
Elizabeth nodded. "I'm sorry. I really—"
Isabella strode pass her, making a beeline for the closest exist. One she didn't have to walk pass the dining to get to. She walked around to get to her car, her steps slowing the moment she noticed a figure leaning on the car, his back to her. She knew who it was from the expensive grey suit adorning the body.
*Fucking Octopus.*
"Good evening, Ma," a guy, who was obviously the designated driver, greeted when she got close.
Octavio turned, his lips tugging up into a smirk the moment he saw her. "Bella calamidades. Were you really going to leave without saying hi?" (Beautiful but unlucky)
He stalked closer, his eyes running all over her. "One would think the last three years we spent working together would've brought us closer. Wait. Was it more than three years? Almost four years, wasn't it?"
"You got what you wanted, Octopus. Leave me alone."
Octavio's lips turned down and he stepped closer. "I told you to stop calling me that," he hissed.
Isabella pushed him away. "And I told you to stay the fuck away from me."
Octavio stumbled back a few steps before regaining his stability. The smirk reappeared on his face. "How can I? When your face puts the morning sun to shame. Body sculpted by the Egyptian goddesses."
A shiver of repulsion crawled through Isabella's body. "What are you going on about? We're cousins, you lewd, disgusting animal."
The drivers jaw dropped and Octavio's voice dropped a notch. "I'm adopted. Bella. Why do you dislike me so much?"
"I don't dislike you."
Octavio grinned. "Then why—"
"I hate you," Isabella interrupted. "And if you so much as touch my hair or show up at my place uninvited, ever again, I'll put a restraining order on you."
Octavio laughed. "You already have enough on your plate, darling. Do you think you've the capacity to add another case to that?"
Isabella raised her chin. "Try me."
Without waiting for a reply, she got into her car, glared at Octavio through the window. It wasn't until the villa disappeared from the rearview mirror that she fell back into the seat with a whoosh, her body going slack.
The first thing she noticed the moment the car pulled into Harry's estate were the guards lurking almost everywhere. Men in black with strict looks on their faces. With a terse nod at them, she hurried in. She gave a tight smile to the cleaners working around the house and dropped her bag on a sofa in the sitting room, kicking off her shoes.
"You're back," Agnes acknowledged. "Good evening. Should I serve your food?"
Isabella shook her head. "I asked that you stop the greetings, Ma."
"Of course. I keep forgetting that." Agnes laughed awkwardly.
"It's fine. What's with the men outside?"
Agnes frowned. "It's always been like this since I started working here. The past week was actually strange. Mr. Danvers had most of the guards off-duty while you were here."
Isabella frowned. *The guards were off duty because I was here?*
"Where is Mar?" she asked.
"In her room."
She wandered upstairs past the first first floor to the second floor, where Harry's room and office was. She knocked on the office door. When she heard no response, she turned the door handle. Locked.
She tried the bedroom door after a few knocks and it opened.
"Danvers?"
No response.
The room was pristine. Bed arranged. No jacket on the rack. No phone on the nightstand. Just the echo of her own voice.
Returning to the first floor, she pushed open María's door.
"Isa! You're back," María called out. "Come. I need to—"
"Where is your brother?" Isabella asked.
"Harry? He went to Venezuela. Is this because of the video? I was going to ask how that—"
"Ven— Venezuela? Like, he left the country?"
A pause. María frowned at the look on Isabella's face.
"Hey. Did something happen? What's wrong?"
*So this was it? Of course, he left. Figures. The one time I let someone in again. Bravo, Danvers. Perfect timing. Earn my trust, huh? Cute while it lasted.*
*******
*I—I don't even know how to start this. Um... I'm Mateo. Um... I've been seeing everything online. All of it. About Miss Montez. About the video.
Look... I was the one in that video with her. That night. She was drunk. And... what I did, or tried to do—I'm not proud of it. I should rot for it.
But I need to say this: It didn't happen the way everyone thinks it did. It wasn't just some mistake. I was paid.
Someone paid me to—to go to that party, get close to her, to make her vulnerable. To... film it. I knew she'd had too much. I knew she wouldn't fight it. He said to make it look like something it wasn't.
I can't live with myself anymore watching her get torn apart in the media, blamed for something she didn't do. She was a victim.
And I was the weapon.
I'll do another video soon. One where I name names. I—I will. I just... I needed to say this part first. I couldn't keep quiet any longer.
I'm sorry, Miss Montez. I'm so damn sorry.*
*This is why she knew it was a set-up.*
"He should've kept his mouth shut," he hissed, fingers tightening around his phone. "Jonas said the fool was truthworthy. In the dark. That he had him wrapped around his fingers."
He brought out another phone from his suit Jacket, dialed a number with the ID: J-fix. It beeped, then went to voicemail.
His thumb rubbed over his index finger as his mind whirled.
*Are they trying to play me? Take my money and then stab me in the back?*
"I guess you've no idea who you just stepped on," he muttered under his breath, lips tugging up.
*Okay. You want to play a hide-and-seek game? Alright. I'll help you hide and never be seen. You already served your purpose after all: the girls image is tarnished and she's already demoted. Let's see how she crawls back from that and what I've planned.*
He dialed another number. It connected with the first ring.
"Boss."
"I've a job for you, Roman."
"At your service, Sir."
"It's time to play hide-and-seek, Roman — help me bury one and hunt the other."
"Just give me a name, Boss."
"Mateo and Jonas. I need it to—"
A knock on the door stopped him and he glanced at it, bringing the phone away from his ears.
"Yes?" He called.
"You're needed at the dining, Sir," a voice came from behind the door.
"Be right there."
The phone returned to his ears. "We'll talk later, Roman. Don't make any moves till then, I NEED this job done with utmost precision. No mistakes like the last one."
"On standby, Sir."
"Good."
And with that, the call disconnected.