Isabella~
"Miss Luis, in response to your request, I have granted an additional hearing date before my final decision. But remember that this is your last chance; if you don't have any solid evidence or proof at the next hearing, I will close this case. We have adjourned the court until the 15th of next month."
I felt relieved as I had more time to prepare for this murder case. But a storm was brewing inside me, one I couldn't calm down.
"Miss Luis, what's going to happen in the next 30 days? I don't understand why you refused to admit defeat at today's hearing and wanted to squander my time." Derrick's words stung, but I gave him a brief smile and turned away from the courtroom.
I didn't want to argue with him now. It was already difficult for me to digest his harsh taunting and accusations, and I never thought he would involve me in this murder case so cruelly. His words had exposed my deepest scars.
I walked faster, desperate to get away from the courtroom, from Derrick's gaze, and from the weight of everything collapsing around me.
How was I supposed to face the reporters? They were eagerly waiting to bombard me with questions, ready to pick apart Derrick's lies and accusations, all designed to weaken me.
"Bella, I'm sorry." Xavier's voice broke through the noise of my thoughts as he hurried to catch up with me. He must have seen the heaviness I carried after what Derrick did in court. But I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone—not even Xavier. I ignored his attempts and continued walking. The weight of his apology was too much for me to bear right now.
I had gathered many witnesses who were willing to testify about Alicia's murder, but now they had vanished. Their sudden disappearance couldn't be a coincidence. I know Jordan was behind it. It's his strategy to force me into a corner and ensure my defeat, but I refuse to give up. No matter how many obstacles they throw at me, I refuse to surrender.
"Is it true, Miss Luis, that you decided to stand up for Xavier Thompson because of your past relationship?" Reporters rushed toward me as I made my way to my car. I clenched my jaw, attempting to ignore them. But they wouldn't move. Their voices became louder, more pressing.
"Does this murder case have anything to do with your desire to make amends with your ex?" The question was so absurd that it made me want to scream. Derrick already dragged my personal life into the courtroom, and now these reporters were feeding on the drama.
"Let me go." I tried to push through the crowd, but they blocked me at every turn.
"Miss Luis, what is your strategy for the next court hearing? If the court finds Mr. Thompson guilty, will you reopen the case in a higher court?"
"Why are you so sure I'll lose?" I muttered, exasperated. The questions swirling around me nearly drowned out my voice.
Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around my shoulders. I flinched, turning to find Xavier beside me. He pulled me close to him, shielding me from the reporters.
"What are you doing?" I whispered, feeling grateful for the help.
"Let's move," he said, ignoring the onslaught of reporters. He held me tightly, guiding me away from their relentless questions. They now had fresh ammunition—both of us caught in their camera lenses, confirming every speculation Derrick had thrown into the courtroom.
The moment we reached the car, I slipped inside, my heart pounding. I gripped the steering wheel, desperately trying to suppress the urge to scream. Xavier's proximity was affecting me. It always had. But after today, my emotions were running wild, and I couldn't afford to lose control.
I drove without thinking, letting my instincts take over as I sped away from the courthouse. I found myself on an isolated hill, far away from the city, away from the reporters, the courtroom, and Xavier. I slammed the brakes and stepped out of the car, breathing in the cold air. The silence felt suffocating, but I needed to scream to let everything out.
Sitting on the edge of the cliff, I buried my face in my hands. "Why can't I escape this?" I whispered, tears spilling down my face.
"Bella," Xavier's voice startled me. I turned, shocked to see him standing there. How had he followed me here?
"What are you doing here?" I asked, quickly wiping my tears away, but the vulnerability was still raw on my face.
"I couldn't leave you like this," he said softly, his eyes filled with concern. "Is this where you come to cry?" He came closer, sitting next to me.
I looked away, refusing to show him any more weakness. "No, I just... needed some air."
"You don't have to lie to me." His voice was gentle, and before I knew it, his hand reached for mine, the warmth seeping through my cold skin. "I know today was hard. You're carrying a lot more than you should."
I tried to pull my hand back, but he didn't let go.
"This isn't about you," I said, my voice shaking. "It's Derrick and Jordan—they want to break me."
"But I'm the reason you're in this mess," he admitted. "I never should have dragged you into this case."
"Don't say that," I replied, shaking my head. "It's not your fault." The words felt hollow because, deep down, I knew part of me blamed him. But another part—a larger part—didn't want to lose him again. And that scared me more than anything.
For a moment, I allowed myself to lean on his shoulder. Just for a moment. He stroked my hair, his touch calming the storm inside me, and for a brief second, I felt at peace.
But it wasn't real. This moment, this closeness—it wasn't real. I stood up abruptly, needing to distance myself.
"I'm no longer Isabella Morgan," I uttered, my voice barely audible over a whisper.
"Bella, please—"
I shook my head and ran toward my car, not giving him a chance to speak. I couldn't let myself fall back into the past.
Upon my return home, the weight of everything resurfaced. But it wasn't over yet. The TV blared in the background as I stepped inside. And there, on the screen, was footage of Xavier and me, fueling the rumors Derrick had already set in motion.
"Bella, do you have any explanation for this?" His voice cut through my thoughts. He was pointing at the television, his face hard with anger.
The image of me with Xavier—him holding me protectively in front of the reporters—flashed on the screen again and again.
I felt a twist in my stomach, fear gripping me as I realized the gravity of the situation. This was not only a concern for me, but also for my son. How was I going to explain this to him?