Isabella's POV
My heels clicked sharply against the polished stone floor as I was dragged, or, if I were being generous, escorted, through the mansion’s massive front doors. The echoes bounced off the high, arched ceilings, mingling with the faint crackle of the storm outside.
Rain streaked down the enormous windows, the scent of wet earth drifting in, mixing with the heavy musk of wood polish, leather, and something else, something like cigarettes.
I stopped, positioning my hands on my hips. “I assume someone is going to explain why I’m here,” I said, voice steady, sharp, full of venom I didn’t entirely feel yet. “Or is the plan to leave me standing like some decoration while you all gawk?”
No answer. Only the soft echo of footsteps from above the huge staircase.
A shadow emerged
