BETRAYED,BROKEN BUT NOT DEFEATED

THE STRANGER WHO SAVED ME

The faint scent of disinfectant filled the room as Isabella blinked her swollen eyes open. The soft hum of machines and the dull ache in her chest reminded her of everything that had happened, the betrayal, and the blinding headlights before darkness took her.

“Easy, Bella,” Aria whispered, helping her sit up carefully. “You scared me half to death. I thought I was going to lose you too.”

Isabella tried to smile, but her lips trembled. “Maybe it would’ve been easier,” she murmured.

“Don’t say that,” Aria scolded gently, placing the warm bowl of porridge in her hands. “You’ve already lost enough. You don’t need to lose yourself too.”

Isabella stared at the porridge for a long moment. It was simple, plain… yet it was the first warmth she’d felt in days.

After a while, she asked quietly, “Who brought me here?”

Aria hesitated, glancing toward the door. “A man named Alexander Knight. The doctor said he’s the one who brought you in after the accident. He paid your bills upfront and told his assistant to make sure you were taken care of.”

“Alexander Knight…” Isabella repeated softly, her brows knitting together. “Why would a stranger do that?”

Aria shrugged. “Maybe he felt guilty. Or maybe…” she paused, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully, “he saw something in you worth saving.”

Isabella gave a humorless laugh. “There’s nothing left worth saving, Aria. Not after what they did.”

Aria reached over and squeezed her hand. “That’s what you think now. But one day, you’ll prove them all wrong.”

Just then, the door creaked open. A tall man in an immaculate black suit stepped inside, followed by a quiet young woman holding a tablet. His presence filled the small hospital room like a storm.

“Miss Brown,” the man said, his tone deep and controlled. “I’m Alexander Knight.”

Isabella’s breath caught. His eyes—cold, sharp, unreadable—met hers. She remembered the blinding lights, the rain, and the voice that called her name before she passed out.

“Thank you for helping me,” she managed, her voice shaky. “I—I don’t know how to repay you.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “You don’t need to,” he said. “Just… stay alive.”

Before she could respond, he turned to leave.

“Wait,” she called out. “Why did you help me?”

He paused at the door. “Because I don’t like watching people break,” he said simply, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. “Especially when they still have a fight left in them.”

And with that, he walked out, his assistant following behind.

Isabella stared after him, her heart pounding for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Aria leaned closer. “Well,” she whispered, “I think your life just got a lot more complicated.”

Isabella looked down at her trembling hands, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the air.

Maybe Aria was right. Maybe her story wasn’t over yet.

As Isabella closed her eyes to rest, her phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was a message from an unknown number.

“You should’ve stayed broken, Isabella.”