Sunlight filtered through the sheer white curtains, warm and soft, settling across Isabella's face. She stirred slowly, her body sinking deeper into the silk sheets of her room in Ashwell Mansion. For a brief moment, she didn't remember where she was.
Then it came back.
Italy.The mansion.The secretive invitations.The club.Him.
Her eyes opened fully.
She sat up, fingers curling around the blankets, and exhaled shakily. Her heart was still beating too fast — as if it had never stopped racing from last night.
The memory of his hands on hers.His voice — low, steady, warm.The way he had looked at her, like she was something important.
She pressed her fingers to her lips. They still felt kissed. She swallowed, trying to collect her thoughts.
Who was he? Did I really just… tell him everything?She had spilled secrets she hadn't even told her father. She had spoken of her fears, her confusion, her frustration — and he had listened. Not politely. Not out of obligation. But like he genuinely cared.
Her face warmed. God, she thought, what was I thinking?
She leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ornate ceiling. The golden patterns and white marble swirls felt too royal for how messy her thoughts were. Everything about last night felt unreal — the music, the haze, his eyes in the dim lighting, the way she felt seen. Seen in a way she hadn't expected from a stranger.
She tried to recall his face clearly.She couldn't.
Just fragments: a shadow of a jawline, a quiet smile, eyes that seemed too intense to forget but somehow blurred now, like a dream she could still feel but not hold.
Her pulse fluttered again.
Was he local? A traveler? Someone from the wedding party?She had no idea. And that made her stomach twist with curiosity and embarrassment.
She lifted her hand to her neck — and froze. A faint mark. Soft. Barely visible. But there. Her breath caught.
Not imagined.Not a dream.Not something she made up. Her heartbeat quickened again, but not from panic — from something far more dangerous:
Wanting to see him again.
She lowered her hand slowly and closed her eyes. Today, she would meet people. Guests. Family. Names she had heard only whispered.Maybe he would be among them. Maybe he had been closer to her world than she realized.
The thought made her chest tighten.In fear.In anticipation. Or both.
She drew in a long breath and whispered to herself: "Who are you?" And the mansion, grand and quiet, kept its secrets.