Isabella felt the weight of the morning sun on her skin as she and Leon made their way toward her father's townhouse. The city buzzed with life around them, but her heart raced with anticipation and dread for what lay ahead. They were stepping into the lion's den, and she could almost feel the predator lurking just beyond her sight.
Leon walked beside her, his presence a comforting anchor amid the swirling chaos in her mind. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, glancing at her with concern etched on his features. "We can always postpone if you need time."
Isabella shook her head, determination setting her jaw. "No, we can't. I need to confront him about Marcus. If he's involved in my mother's death, I can't let him keep lying to me."
Leon nodded, respect flashing in his eyes. "Okay. Just remember to stay calm. We can't let him see that we know more than we're letting on."
As they approached the townhouse, Isabella took a deep breath, steeling herself against the familiar sight. The elegant exterior, surrounded by a well-kept garden, felt suffocating today. It was a place she had once associated with comfort and security, but now it felt like a façade hiding a dangerous truth.
"He's been working from home lately," Isabella said, her voice steady. "His health has improved a bit, and he insisted he didn't want to stay in bed any longer."
Leon gave a reassuring nod as they reached the front door. "Just act natural," he whispered, his hand brushing against her back as she rang the doorbell.
The door was answered by a housekeeper, who let them in with a quiet nod. Isabella's heart beat faster as they made their way up the grand staircase, each step feeling heavier than the last. As they reached the study, she paused, taking a deep breath.
"You ready?" Leon asked, his gaze unwavering.
Isabella nodded, mustering her courage before knocking lightly on the door. "Dad, it's Isabella," she called out, her heart racing.
"Come in," her father's voice echoed from the other side, sounding both authoritative and weary.
Pushing the door open, Isabella stepped inside, Leon close behind. Her father, Charles Harrington, sat behind a large desk in the study, papers strewn about. Though he appeared more alert than she had seen him in recent months, there was still a frailty in his posture, the shadows under his eyes a reminder of his recent illness.
"Isabella," he greeted, a tired smile breaking through. "What brings you here?"
"We need to talk," Isabella said, her voice steady despite the tremor of anxiety beneath it. "About Marcus Voss."
The smile faltered on her father's face, his expression turning grave. "What about him?" he asked, leaning back in his chair as if bracing himself for an uncomfortable conversation.
"I've heard some concerning things about him—about his connection to you and Mom," she replied, keeping her tone even.
Charles shifted in his seat, the air around him thickening with tension. "That's not a subject you should be digging into, Isabella. It's complicated."
"Complicated how?" she pressed, feeling the urgency rise within her. "You owe me the truth, Dad. If he was involved in Mom's death, I need to know."
Leon stood slightly behind her, observing the exchange intently, his presence a silent support. Charles's expression hardened as he met Isabella's gaze. "I made mistakes in the past—mistakes I thought were buried," he said, his voice low and strained. "But digging into this will only bring more pain."
"More pain than losing her?" Isabella challenged, her voice rising. "I deserve to know what happened to her! We all do!"
For a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Her father looked older, the burden of unspoken truths etched across his features. "You think knowing the truth will make this easier?" he asked, his voice cracking. "It won't. You'll only uncover more darkness."
Isabella's heart raced, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "But we have to try! What if there's a way to find justice for her?"
Charles sighed heavily, running a hand through his thinning hair. "There are forces at play here that you don't understand. Things that could put you in danger."
"I don't care!" Isabella replied fiercely. "I want to know. If Marcus is connected to her death, I need to confront him."
Leon stepped forward, his tone calm but firm. "Mr. Harrington, if you know anything that could help us, now is the time to share it. We can't let fear dictate our actions."
Charles looked at Leon, weighing his words. "You think this is just about fear?" he replied, his voice low. "There are secrets in our family that are meant to stay buried. Marcus is not just a man; he's a monster. Involving yourself with him will only lead to more pain."
"Then let us help you," Isabella pleaded, her voice softening. "We can face this together."
Charles seemed to wrestle with his thoughts, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. "If you're set on this path, you need to understand the consequences. Marcus is not someone to be trifled with. He's dangerous."
"We know," Leon interjected. "But ignorance won't protect us. If he's involved in this, we need to know how deep the connection runs."
After a long pause, Charles finally spoke, his voice heavy with regret. "I had dealings with Marcus years ago—business dealings that turned sour. He was a part of a deal that went wrong, and when your mother found out, she confronted him. It escalated, and I tried to protect her, but..."
Isabella felt her heart lurch as the pieces began to fall into place. "What do you mean? Did he threaten her?"
Her father looked away, guilt shadowing his features. "Yes. And when I tried to intervene, things spiraled out of control. I thought I could handle it, but Marcus... he was ruthless. He didn't care who got hurt in the process."
"You let him hurt her," Isabella accused, her voice trembling with anger. "You let him get away with it!"
"No!" Charles shot back, his voice rising. "I tried to protect her! I thought I could keep her safe, but... I failed."
Isabella's heart sank at the pain in her father's eyes. "You failed us all," she whispered, the hurt overwhelming her. "All these years, and I didn't even know."
Leon placed a hand on her shoulder, grounding her as emotions threatened to consume her. "We can't dwell on the past. We need to focus on the present," he said, his voice steady.
Charles met Leon's gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "You're right. But you need to be cautious. Marcus won't take kindly to being pursued. He'll do whatever it takes to protect himself."
"We can handle it," Isabella said, her determination reigniting. "We'll be careful. But we need your help, Dad. Any information you have—any leads—could be crucial."