ISABELLA’S POV
“Pick up.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“Adrian… pick up.”
The call rang once.
Twice.
Then again.
No answer.
I stared at the screen, my pulse ticking harder with every dead second.
Call ended.
No callback. No message.
Nothing.
“Miss…” Miss Vane, my nanny’s voice came softly from behind me. “Please drink something.”
I did not look at her.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“You have not eaten either.”
“I said I’m fine.”
My voice came out sharper than I meant, but I did not care. Not right now.
She hesitated for a moment, then set the glass beside me anyway. Ice clinked softly against the side, and a faint citrus scent drifted up—clean, sweet, almost calming.
I drew in a slow breath and forced myself to think—
‘I don’t know anyone called Adrian.’
The girl’s voic
