Isabella’s POV
The first rays of morning light spilled through my window, scattering golden patches across the floor. For once, the sight didn’t feel suffocating. My room—my new room—was beginning to look less like a cage and more like a place I could breathe in.
It hadn’t always been like that. When Dante had moved me here a week ago, I’d thought it was another cruel trick. Another way to show me that he controlled everything, even the air I inhaled.
But then Elena had arrived, along with a woman in her thirties named Rosa, one of the mansion’s staff, her smile soft despite the tension she tried to mask. Together, they’d brought in boxes, fabrics, and trinkets.
“Here,” Elena had said brightly, tossing a stack of throw pillows on the bed. “If you’re going to sulk every day, at least d
