Morning light spilled through the tall windows of Ashwell Mansion, casting warm patterns across the polished marble floors. Isabella and her family descended the grand staircase together, the soft rustle of their footsteps echoing in the vast hall. The mansion was quiet, the only sound the distant whisper of fountains in the courtyard.
The dining room was vast, with a long oak table set perfectly for three. Sunlight caught the gleaming silverware and crystal glasses, turning them into tiny prisms. A delicate aroma of fresh bread, coffee, and pastries filled the air.
Isabella led the way, trying to keep her movements calm and controlled. Just act normal, she thought. Nobody knows yet. Nobody has to. She tugged lightly at the collar of her blouse, subtly trying to hide the faint bruise on her neck. Her heart still raced when she thought of last night, but she forced herself to breathe evenly.
Christian pulled out a chair for Isabella. "Looks like they prepared quite the spread," he said, glancing around the room. "We could almost get used to this."
Leo chuckled, sitting down. "It's like something out of a movie. I feel like I should bow or curtsy or something."
They began to eat quietly, savoring the richness of freshly baked croissants and sweet fruit preserves. The silence was comfortable at first, a shared enjoyment of luxury without words.
Then conversation started to flow.
"What's first on the itinerary today?" Christian asked, leaning back in his chair. "Do we know what we're seeing in Italy first?"
"Not exactly," Isabella admitted, taking a careful sip of tea. "But I think we'll visit some of the estate gardens and possibly the town nearby. I heard the family likes to show their guests around before the ceremony."
Sophie grinned. "Great. Gardens, maybe a little shopping… and somehow we're stuck in this palace. Life is rough."
Isabella smiled, trying to sound relaxed, but inside her mind raced. I need to stay calm. Pretend everything's normal. Don't let them notice last night…
Christian frowned slightly, sensing her tension. "You seem… distracted, Bella. Are you alright?"
"Just tired from traveling," she said smoothly, lowering her gaze. "The mansion is… overwhelming, that's all." Her mother raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but didn't push. He knew when to let her have space.
The conversation turned to what they might do once they left the mansion for the day—exploring nearby towns, tasting local food, and wandering through Italian streets painted in sun and history. Isabella listened and joined in when she could, all while carefully avoiding sudden movements that might reveal the mark on her neck.
Even as they laughed softly and discussed their plans, a part of her mind remained alert, remembering the warmth and pressure she had felt in her room, the shadowy presence that had lingered so close.
She tried to push it away, focusing on the bread, the morning light, and her family beside her. But deep down, she knew that Ashwell Mansion held secrets far beyond the grand breakfast table, and that last night had been only the beginning.