Isadora struggled to lift her eyelids, but they felt heavy, as if weighted down by an invisible force. Her vision was a hazy blur, like gazing through a frosted windowpane. But then, like a bolt of lightning, the memories of what had happened came flooding back, and her eyes snapped open with a newfound urgency.
As she scanned her surroundings, her gaze darted wildly around the room, taking in the sterile hospital walls, the crisp white sheets, and the intravenous drip attached to her arm. She was dressed in a standard-issue hospital gown, and the privacy curtains surrounding her bed hinted at a private room. The hospital room's antiseptic scent and the soft beeps of machinery completed the picture, leaving Isadora with more questions than answers.
"Dad, Dad, she's awake!" a young voice exclaimed, and Isadora's gaze landed on Piper, her bright eyes shining with excitement.
Isadora's gaze met Piper's, and she struggled to speak, her voice barely above a whisper. "Where am I?"
Piper's smile faltered for a moment before she replied, "You're in the hospital, Aunty. We came to visit you because you didn't pick us up today."
Isadora tried to sit up, but a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her head, leaving her breathless. She fell back onto the pillows, her vision blurring.
Piper chattered on, oblivious to Isadora's distress. "Daddy said you weren't feeling well, so I asked if we could come see you."
Isadora managed to turn her head slightly, her eyes locking onto Piper's. "Hi, sweetie...how was school?"
But Piper's expression turned solemn. "Aunty, that doesn't matter. How are you feeling?"
Isadora forced a weak smile. "I'm getting better, sweetie."
Just then, someone's deep voice interrupted, "Okay, Piper, let your aunty rest."
Isadora's gaze shifted towards the sound of the voice, and her eyes landed on Maxwell, who had been lingering in the background, unnoticed until now.
As their eyes met, the fog in her mind cleared, and the memories came rushing back - the bitter argument, the painful confrontation, and the chain of events that had led her to this hospital bed.
With the memories, a wave of resentment and anger washed over her, filling her heart with bitterness towards Maxwell. Her gaze narrowed, her eyes flashing with a mix of pain and accusation. Maxwell gestured to Piper to give them some space, and the little girl obediently moved to a chair in the corner of the room, her eyes fixed on Isadora with concern. Maxwell's gaze returned to Isadora, his eyes filled with remorse.
"I'm so sorry for what happened," he said, his voice laced with regret. "How are you feeling?" He reached out to take her hand, but Isadora recoiled, her arm pulling back like a snapped rubber band.
"Thanks to you I'm here," she answered, her voice barely above a whisper, her words dripping with venom.
Maxwell's expression was contrite. "I never meant for things to go that far. I'm truly sorry for what you went through."
Isadora's voice was laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone, Maxwell. Being pregnant with your child doesn't mean I'm your property or your slave."
Maxwell held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "I never thought that, Isadora. I've been waiting here for you to wake up, to make sure you're okay."
Isadora's response was icy. "That doesn't concern me. Just leave me alone."
Maxwell nodded, his eyes still filled with regret. "I'll give you some space for now. The doctor will be in to see you soon. I'll come back later when you're feeling better."
Isadora's response was curt. "Just go."
Maxwell turned to Piper, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes. "Time to go, kiddo. Aunty will be home soon."
But Piper hesitated, her gaze fixed on Isadora. "I don't want to leave her, Daddy. I want to stay with Aunty."
Maxwell's voice was gentle but firm. "I know, sweetie, but Mom wouldn't want you to be here. You've seen Aunty, and she'll be home soon. Let's go."
Piper nodded reluctantly, her eyes welling up with tears. She flung her arms around Isadora's neck. "I'll see you later, Aunty."
Isadora managed a weak smile, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and love. "I'll see you soon, Piper."
Isadora's eyes welled up with tears as she watched Maxwell leave, the regret of knowing him visible. She knew him too well - his chameleon-like nature, where he could switch from sympathetic to a heartless person, left her wary.
As predicted, the doctor arrived, a welcome distraction from the emotional turmoil. The doctor's examination and medication brought some relief, and Isadora forced down the food left on the table, her appetite still wavering.
As time passed, her physical strength returned, and the head pain subsided. Isadora sat on the bed, her hand cradling her stomach, anxiety washing over her as she contemplated how to hide her growing pregnancy. While a change of clothes would soon be necessary, her current shape didn't yet betray her secret.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow, Maxwell and Grayson arrived to take Isadora home. She maintained her distance, refusing any assistance as she walked behind them. With her medication in hand, they departed the hospital and climbed into Maxwell's car, Grayson driving them home. Upon arrival, Isadora swiftly retreated to her room, locking the door behind her without a word.
Maxwell retreated to his private lounge, where Marcus and the lawyer awaited his arrival. Upon entering, he took his seat in his chair, issuing a curt command: "Bring him to me." The lawyer was promptly ushered in, forced to kneel before Maxwell in a display of subservience.
"You're aware of your treachery, aren't you?" Maxwell growled, his voice low and menacing. "After years of loyalty, you chose to stab me in the back. How could you?"
The lawyer cowered, "I apologize, it wasn't my intention to cause harm."
Maxwell's anger erupted, "Your apology is meaningless! Do you realize the consequences of your actions? If your plan had succeeded, my brother would be in control of my entire empire by now!"
"The truth is, he held my family hostage, threatening their lives if I didn't comply," the lawyer pleaded. "I was coerced, left with no other option but to follow his demands."
Maxwell's anger was unrelenting, "And so you chose to sacrifice my interests, everything I've built over the years, just to save your own skin!"
The lawyer begged, "Please, have mercy! I had no choice, forgive me, master."
Maxwell's response was cold and menacing, "You'll pay for your betrayal. Take him to the table," he commanded, rising from his seat and rolling up his sleeve, revealing a hint of the punishment to come.
As Isadora sat in her room, her mind kept wandering back to the conversation she had overheard in the car between Maxwell and Grayson about the lawyer's betrayal. She was determined to uncover the lawyer's identity and learn more about the situation. She began to ponder ways to sneak into the private lounge undetected, curious about the events unfolding behind its closed doors.
Isadora scoured every inch of her room, determined to find a layout of the mansion that would aid her in her quest for information. After an exhaustive search, she was about to give up, her head throbbing with fatigue.
But then, her persistence was rewarded. A stray paper caught her eye, peeking out from beneath the dressing table. She pulled it out, and her heart raced as she realized it was the very thing she had been searching for - a detailed layout of the mansion. Her joy and excitement knew no bounds.
Isadora spread the paper out on her table, her eyes scanning the layout of the mansion until she found the private lounge. At first, she was dismayed to see that there was no alternate entrance or back door. But she refused to give up.
Studying the layout more closely, she noticed a possible route - through the ceiling. Her gaze shifted upward, and she spotted a small opening in the ceiling of her room. A sly smile spread across her face as she realized this could be her way in. She committed the route to memory, tracing the path from her room's ceiling to the lounge's. With a newfound sense of determination, she changed into an all-black outfit, ready to put her plan into action.
To ensure her safety, Isadora locked her door and carefully positioned her table under the ceiling opening. She added another chair on top, creating a makeshift staircase that allowed her to reach the height. With her headlight shining bright, she cautiously climbed onto the table and hoisted herself into the ceiling.
As she crawled deeper, she encountered a thick layer of dust and cobwebs, but she moved silently, mindful of the need for stealth. Her journey was interrupted by the scurrying of rats, which made her heart race, but she suppressed the urge to scream. Isadora's skills, including her ability to navigate through tight spaces, were honed by her boyfriend Antonio, a member of a powerful Mafia group. She had learned to be resourceful and brave, traits that served her well in this moment.
Following the mental map she had committed to memory, Isadora arrived at the toilet ceiling in the private lounge, where she knew she would find an opening without camera surveillance.
She carefully lifted the ceiling panel and lowered herself down, wincing slightly as her head still throbbed with pain. She pushed open the toilet door and slipped into the narrow passage beyond, moving left until she reached the edge of the wall that partitioned the private lounge.
Holding her breath, she peeked around the corner, her eyes scanning the room for cameras and threats. Her gaze locked onto Maxwell and his men, then shifted to a figure with his hands bound on the table - the lawyer, she presumed. She pulled back, took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and then looked again, her heart racing with suspense.
The scene before her suddenly turned gruesome as a knife was thrust into the man's hands, pinning them to the table. The man's anguished cry echoed through the room, and Isadora's eyes widened in horror as she caught a glimpse of the victim's face. Her whispered exclamation, "Father!" was cut short as a hand clamped over her mouth from behind, silencing her.