Jonathan
He was persistent, endlessly forcing a friendship she had no interest in. No matter how many polite rejections or cold responses she gave, he hovered, clinging to the idea that her heart might change. Isabella loathed that suffocating attention.
She closed the door behind her, blocking them all out, and let the silence of the dressing room swallow her.
Isabella emerged from her dressing room, her hair perfectly arranged, her dress light but elegant. Her steps slowed the moment she saw her father still waiting outside. The look she gave him was sharp—an unspoken Why are you still here?
Adrian caught it immediately. His lips curved into that practiced smile of his, the one that always tried to soften his demands.
"I was waiting for you, sweetheart, so we could go down together," he explained smoothly. "Jonathan would like to talk to you too."
Her eyes flickered with reluctance. This wasn't new, her father had always loved parading her before his friends. But this was different. Jonathan wasn't some stranger at a gala. He was Adrian's old friend's son. This was unnecessary Forced.
"Shall we?" Adrian extended his arm, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Isabella exhaled, shaking her head in disbelief before silently taking her place beside him. They walked side by side, her long strides clipped with annoyance.
Inside Adrian's office, his old friend sat comfortably in one of the armchairs, his son Jonathan beside him. Jonathan rose the moment Isabella entered, his face lighting up with an eagerness that only made her chest tighten.
"Isabella," Adrian said warmly, "Jonathan. Why don't you two have some time together?" He bent toward her, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "Be on your best behavior, Isabella. He's very important."
She clenched her jaw but gave a faint nod. Jonathan took that as encouragement. He reached for her hand, his touch too familiar, too eager. Instinctively, she withdrew.
"Isabella," Adrian warned.
Her head snapped toward him. "Dad." Her tone carried quiet defiance.
But she understood. As always, she understood. With a reluctant breath, she allowed Jonathan's hand to slide into hers. His grip was warm, steady, but her heart felt nothing.
They left the office hand in hand. Each step down the corridor tightened the knot in her chest. She wasn't Jonathan's. She never would be.
When they entered the living room, her heart stilled.
There, arranging flowers in a tall vase, was Ava. Her hair had fallen slightly forward, a few strands brushing her cheek. The moment Isabella's eyes found hers, it was as if the world stopped.
Their gazes locked.
For an instant, everything else blurred, the polished marble floors, the towering ceilings, even Jonathan beside her. All Isabella could see was Ava.
And Ava… Ava was staring right back. Her eyes widened, not with surprise but with something sharper, something raw. Jealousy. Hurt. Fire.
The weight of Jonathan's hand in hers suddenly burned like chains. Isabella couldn't take it. With a swift motion, she pulled her hand free.
Jonathan frowned, confusion flashing in his eyes. "Shall we sit here for a while?" he asked, trying to recover, gesturing toward the grand living room sofa.
"No," Isabella said quickly, her voice too sharp.
Jonathan blinked. "No?"
She forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I just think… maybe somewhere else. The garden, perhaps. It's more quiet."
But the truth was written all over her face. She couldn't stay there. Not with Ava standing only a few feet away, her chest rising with emotions she could no longer hide.
Ava's hands stilled on the flowers, but her eyes never left Isabella. They were burning holes through her. It was the same look Isabella had given when Ava's male friend had come visiting, the same silent war of You're mine, why are you with them?
Jonathan, oblivious, tried again. "But the living room is comfortable. We could—"
"No," Isabella interrupted, her tone firmer this time. She glanced once more at Ava, whose gaze was now darting between Isabella's trembling hands and Jonathan's disappointed face. The storm between them was unspoken but palpable.
Jonathan exhaled, clearly puzzled by her sudden mood. "Alright then," he said softly. "Let's find another spot."
But even as he turned, Isabella lingered. Her eyes remained fixed on Ava's, drinking in every unspoken word. Her pulse thundered. Her body screamed to stay. To cross the room. To forget Jonathan entirely.
Instead, she forced herself to move, following Jonathan toward the hall. Yet with every step away, her heart was tethered back—to the girl by the flowers, whose jealous, aching stare burned hotter than anything she had ever known.
Adrian left his office with purpose, not wandering aimlessly. His footsteps were calm, deliberate, every motion betraying the quiet certainty of a man who already knew more than he admitted. He had seen enough in glances, in silences, in how his daughter's gaze lingered where it shouldn't. Tonight, he wanted proof.
Down the corridor, he found Ava arranging a small bundle of books into the arms of a servant. She looked up at him, startled, her dark eyes betraying a nervous flicker.
"Where are Isabella and Jonathan?" Adrian asked, his voice even, his eyes steady.
Ava straightened. "I… I don't know, sir," she replied quickly, her tone respectful but stiff. Her hand twitched against her skirt as if she couldn't quite hide the unease of being caught in his scrutiny.
He held her gaze a moment longer, then shifted it past her shoulder toward the gardens. "Which way?"
Ava hesitated. She didn't want to answer, but his eyes left her no choice. Slowly, she pointed toward the back of the house, where the path curved toward the playground..
Adrian gave the faintest nod, not thanks, not warmth—just acknowledgment. He walked that way, soundless as a shadow.
From behind a hedge, he found them. Isabella sat on the wooden bench near the swings, Jonathan at her side, leaning too close. She wasn't laughing. She wasn't smiling. Her posture was rigid, her chin tilted slightly away, her arms folded tightly across her lap. Every inch of her body screamed resistance.
Adrian's eyes narrowed, not at Jonathan's closeness, but at the way Isabella's gaze darted quickly, secretly, toward Ava's absence, as if searching for her even here. He leaned back against the hedge, unseen. This was no random glance. It confirmed his suspicion more than words ever could.
He stepped away silently, circling back until he found Ava again. She stood near the flowerpots with two servants. Adrian's voice cut smoothly into the air.
"The flowers at the playground," he said. "They need attention. Go with them. Now."
Ava blinked, surprised by the odd instruction. "Yes, sir." She followed, gathering her strength, walking the same path he had just left.
When they reached the playground, Jonathan was leaning in even closer to Isabella. She had shifted slightly away, her hand gripping the edge of the bench as if it was her escape. But the moment Ava appeared, Isabella's eyes shot up.
Her heart raced. She moved further from Jonathan in a quick, almost defensive gesture. She didn't want Ava to misunderstand. She didn't want Ava to think Jonathan mattered, even for a second.
But Ava's chest burned. The sight of Jonathan so close, their shoulders almost touching, made her blood rush hot. She told herself to focus on the flowers, to pretend she didn't care, but her eyes kept dragging back to Isabella, sharp and restless, betraying her jealousy.
From afar, Adrian watched with steady eyes. He pulled his phone from his pocket, typed a message, and sent it.
Jonathan's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his hand trembling. Plant a kiss on her cheek.
His throat tightened. He knew Isabella had never liked him, not since they were children. She had never laughed with him, never softened her eyes for him. He could feel her resistance even now. But it was Adrian's order. And Jonathan was too weak to refuse.
With an awkward lean, he pressed his lips quickly against Isabella's cheek.
Her body went rigid. Her eyes flared with anger. But before she could speak, a sharp sound broke through the air.
Ava.
Her breath came hard and fast, her face pale and stricken. She spun away from the sight, her footsteps storming down the path before anyone could stop her.
"Ava!!" Isabella's voice cracked as she shot to her feet. "Ava, wait!!"
But Ava was already gone, her figure vanishing around the curve of the garden.
Isabella turned back slowly, fire in her eyes as she faced Jonathan. Her voice was low, trembling with fury.
"If you ever try that again," she hissed, "you'll regret it."
Jonathan swallowed hard, saying nothing.
Without waiting for his reply, Isabella ran, her hair flying behind her, her chest burning with panic. She had to find Ava. She had to explain.
And from his place behind the hedge, Adrian watched in silence. His hands slid into his pockets, his expression calm, almost cold. His eyes glimmered with the satisfaction of a man who had just confirmed what he suspected.
He had seen enough.