Michael noticed, his brow creasing in concern. "Isabella… what's on your mind?"
I sighed, lowering myself onto the plush sofa, and Michael sat beside me, his gaze attentive. "It's just… Vanessa," i admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "She's a constant reminder that this engagement is under a spotlight, that our every move is being scrutinized."
Michael's eyes softened as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I know it's a lot. And I won't pretend that Vanessa isn't a problem. She's always thrived on creating chaos."
I looked down at my hands, feeling a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "It's more than that, Michael. It feels like… like she wants something, something that goes beyond jealousy or resentment."
He frowned, considering my words. "You think she's hiding something?"
I nodded, chewing my lip. "Yes. And I don't think she'll stop until she gets whatever it is."
