Chapter 6: Torn Apart by Blood and Gold
853 Words
The morning after their reunion, Isabella woke with a feeling she hadn’t felt in months — peace.
She could still feel Ethan’s warmth in her arms, hear the way he whispered her name like a prayer. For the first time since leaving New York, she didn’t feel like a prisoner of her family’s choices. She felt alive, free, and certain of one thing — love was worth the risk.
She packed a small suitcase that afternoon, slipping her passport, money, and a photo of her and Ethan into a leather bag. In a few hours, she would meet him at the train station, and they’d finally leave it all behind.
But love never outruns fate.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her father was waiting in the living room — cold, composed, and furious.
“Going somewhere?” William Carter’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Isabella froze. Her mother sat beside him, her expression pale and tight.
“I—I was just…”
“Don’t lie to me.” His eyes burned with restrained anger. “Do you think I wouldn’t know what you’ve been doing here? Sneaking around with that boy again, embarrassing this family in another country?”
Her heart pounded. “He’s not just that boy. He’s the man I love.”
Her father slammed his hand on the table, the sound echoing through the house. “Love?” he scoffed. “You think love pays for your life, Isabella? You think it keeps this family’s name clean?”
“Maybe I don’t care about your name!” she shouted, tears streaming down her face. “Maybe I just want to be happy!”
“Happy?” His voice broke into a cruel laugh. “You are a Carter. Your happiness is what I decide it to be.”
Her mother finally spoke, her tone softer but trembling. “Sweetheart, please… your father’s only trying to protect you.”
“From what? From love?”
“From ruin,” her father said sharply. “That boy has nothing. No family, no future. Do you really want to throw away everything for a man who can barely feed himself?”
Her chest ached. “He has dreams, Dad. He has a heart. Isn’t that enough?”
“It’s never enough,” he said coldly. “Not in this world.”
Before she could respond, two security men stepped into the room. Her father nodded toward them. “Take her phone. She’s not leaving this house until further notice.”
“Dad, please—”
“Enough, Isabella.” His tone softened, but only slightly. “You’ll thank me one day when you realize I saved you from destroying your life.”
She fought them as they took her phone, shouting, crying, begging — but it was useless. Her father had built an empire on control, and today, she was just another deal to close.
That night, locked in her room, she pressed her forehead against the cold window glass and whispered his name.
“Ethan… I’m sorry.”
---
Across the city, Ethan stood at the train station, watching people rush past. He checked his watch for the tenth time. Midnight.
He’d been waiting for hours, clutching his ticket and her silver pendant in his hand. Every sound, every footstep made his heart jump — but she never came.
When the final train departed, he was still there, his hope slowly turning into dread.
By dawn, his phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.
> Mr. Hayes, this is William Carter. My daughter will not be meeting you again. If you truly care for her, you’ll disappear from her life for good. I’ll make sure she never sees the inside of a jail cell for helping you if you stay away.
Ethan’s stomach twisted. He could barely breathe. He read the message again and again, trying to make sense of the cruelty behind it.
He typed a reply but never sent it. What could he say? What could possibly make a man like William Carter understand that love wasn’t a crime?
He stared out at the sunrise over the Paris skyline, his chest hollow. She hadn’t chosen to leave him — he knew that in his bones. But knowing didn’t make it hurt less.
That morning, he walked to the art gallery that had once displayed his sketches and left one more behind.
It showed a girl standing behind a window, hand pressed against the glass, looking out at a world she could never reach.
At the bottom, he signed it E.H. and wrote three words beneath it:
“For when she’s free.”
---
That same day, Isabella’s mother entered her room quietly.
“You’ve broken your father’s heart,” she whispered, setting a tray of food down.
Isabella didn’t respond. She just stared out the window.
Her mother sighed. “You’ll understand one day. The world isn’t kind to people who follow their hearts.”
But Isabella already knew. The world wasn’t kind at all. Especially to those who loved too deeply.
- Writer
