Thrown Out
“Take out everything that belongs to her” Victoria Vale snapped as she faced towards the direction of the servants.
At that instant, suitcases began to hit the marble floors.
Isabella Vale looked with a confused expression.
“What's going on, and why are they tossing my lagguage?”
Before she could utter another statement, another box followed, its brass clasp snapping open as clothes spilled across the entrance hall.
Outside, thunder shook the mansion and rain pounding against the towering window, turning the garden into a blur of darkness.
“Make sure none of her property remains in this house”
Victoria Vale voice echoed through the hall
Isabella stared at her stepmother with shock and as tears gathered in her eyes.
Her fingers curled around the black dress she had been wearing since morning. It was still damp at the shoulders from the rain at her father's funeral.
It's just 3 hours since her father was buried and now she's been thrown out of his house.
“I demand an explanation on why they are throwing my luggage?” Isabella questioned with a serious expression.
Victoria finally turned.
The woman wore an elegant black dress, diamond earrings, and an expression untouched by grief.
“What you're seeing now is an evidence that you're no longer a member of this household. Victoria blasted.
Isabella stumbled backwards and her chest tighted.
“But you'd care for me like a mother”?
An humorless smile touched Victoria's lips.
“Not anymore”
Isabella stared at her with a remorseful expression.
From the stair case came a mockery chuckle.
Isabella looked up and saw her stepsister stood halfway down the grand staircase, one hand resting elegantly on the polished banister. Unlike Isabella, Clara had changed out of her funeral clothes. Her dark hair was perfectly styled, and her face carried the faintest trace of amusement.
She looked as though she had been expecting this moment.
“Maybe you should stop pretending you don't know what this is all about” Clara teased.
Isabella clenched her fist.
“This has nothing to do with you”
“Really” Clara smiled as she slowly descended from the stairs while she folded her arms around her chest.
“I'm a member of this family and every affairs concerns me.” Clara stated
“Exactly, it concerns everyone who lives under this roof”. Victoria added.
“Except for you this worthless b***h”.
Before Isabella could respond, another suitcase landed.
She spun around and shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Stop it”
She rushed forward and forcefully grabbed it before the servant could drag it outside.
“Those are my father's things.”
“Oh! Poor girl Daddy doesn't exist anymore you've had enough of him” Clara smirked.
Isabella froze that instant,
Her father's final days flashed through her mind—the hospital room, the machines, his weakened voice, and the way his hand had trembled when he'd reached for hers.
She swallowed hard.
“He was my father” She chocked out the words between sobs.
“And he was my husband,” Victoria snapped. “Yet somehow, you were always the one he chose.”
The anger in her tone shocked Isabella.
“I never for once asked him to choose me”
No, Clara chimed from behind “ you simply made sure he did and you'd be the one to bear the consequence”
“What is this supposed to mean?” Isabella demanded.
“You definitely know what it means” Clara brushed it off.
“I don't.”
“Of course you do.”
Clara grinned.
“You've spent your entire life believing you're Dad's favourite so You can't eat your cake and have it.”
“Don't you use to call him Daddy”
“Why Clara?”
“is it Because you don't mean it.”
That instant, the taunting smile vanished from Clara's face
For a brief moment, the hall went silent except for the rain.
Then a gruff voice echoed down the hallway
“That's enough”
Then Isabella looked toward the doorway.
Richard, her father's younger brother and longtime business adviser, stood beneath the archway. His expression was intimidating.
He had been mute during the funeral.
But now, he looked at Isabella as if she were a piece of trash that's needed to be discarded.
“Your father is dead and the family has responsibilities to take care of” He said with an icy tone.
I know.” Isabella said
“Then act like it.”
“I am trying.”
Richard's eyes narrowed.
“No. You're making everything about yourself.”
Isabella stared at him in disbelief.
“My father was buried today.”
“And you think that gives you the right to demand anything from this family?”
I'm not demanding anything I only want to know why I'm been pushed out of my father's property. She stated.
“You've always been ungrateful.”
The word struck harder than Isabella expected.
She looked from Richard to Victoria, then to Clara.
Three people.
Three pairs of eyes.
But none contained empathy.
Her throat burned.
“Where do you expect me to go?” she sniffles.
Victoria folded her arms across her chest.
“That's no longer our concern.”
“Please.”
The word broke free before Isabella could stop it.
Her pride cracked and she stepped forward and pleaded
“I have no where to go tonight”
Despite her plea, Victoria's expression remained stoic.
“You should have thought about that before turning against this family.”
“I never turned against anyone” her face reflected deep remorse.
“You humiliated your father”
Isabella shook her head in disapproval.
“No, I defended him”
Richard scoffed
“Enough of all these excuses just pack your things and leave at once”
That instant, Isabella's eyes brimmed with tears.
She hated that she was standing in the entrance hall of the home where she had grown up, begging the ones she called her family who had already decided she didn't belong here anymore.
Her knees weakened.
Then she sank to the floor.
Clara's eyebrows lifted.
Isabella interlocked her hands
“Please.”
Victoria looked down at her.
“I'll do anything.” she begged
“Anything?”
Isabella nodded desperately.
“Just let me stay until I find somewhere else.”
Victoria leaned closer.
“You should have remembered that before behaving like an entitled daughter.”
Isabella's lips trembled.
“I'm not entitled.”
“Yes,you are.”
Richard turned toward the servants.
“Take the luggage outside.”
Isabella looked at him.
“Are you really doing this Uncle?”
Richard didn't answer.
The servants carried the suitcases toward the doors.
Clara watched from the staircase with a satisfactory glance
Isabella noticed.
Something inside her broke.
She slowly rose.
Her tears remained, but she stopped wiping them.
She looked at Victoria,Richard and Clara.
“All right.” Isabella declared
Victoria frowned.
“What?”
Isabella's voice was quiet.
“I'll leave.”
Clara's smile returned.
“That was easier than expected.”
Isabella ignored her.
She bent down and picked up the small suitcase that remained beside her.
One suitcase.
That was all they had allowed her to keep.
Her clothes, a few personal belongings, and the little cash she had in her purse.
Everything else was being left behind.
Her father's house.
Her childhood.
Her memories.
Her inheritance—whatever it might have been.
She walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
For one brief second, she looked back.
The chandelier glittered above the marble hall.
She remembered running through those halls as a child.
Her father's laughter.
His hand on her head.
His voice telling her that no matter what happened, she would always have a home.
Now the home was rejecting her.
Isabella tightened her grip on the suitcase.
“I'll survive.” she confirmed.
Nobody answered.
She stepped outside.
Cold rain immediately soaked her hair and the mansion doors slammed shut behind her.
The sound echoed through the storm.
Isabella stood motionless.
Her chest rose and fell.
She had expected someone to open the door.
To call her back.
To say it had all been a mistake but nothing happened.
She dragged her suitcase down the wet driveway.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
At the iron gate, she stopped.
Lightning flashed across the sky.
And suddenly, a memory of her father's voice surfaced.
Weak But Urgent
From the hospital room.
It had been the night before he died.
He had gripped her wrist with surprising strength.
“If they throw you out…”
She laughed nervously then, refusing to believe him.
“Don't trust anyone; not even family members.
His eyes had held something she hadn't understood.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
Isabella's breath caught.
She stared back at the mansion.
The lights glowed warmly behind the rain-streaked windows.
For the first time, she wondered why her father had warned her.
Why had he expected them to throw her out?
And what had he been trying to protect her from?
Thunder exploded overhead.
Isabella looked down at the small suitcase in her hand.
Then she looked beyond the gates.
She had no home.
No family.
Almost no money.
But she had her father's final warning.
And suddenly, leaving didn't feel like the end.
It felt like the beginning of something she wasn't prepared for.
She stepped through the gate.
Behind her, the Vale Mansion disappeared into the storm.
And somewhere inside that house was a secret her father had died trying to protect.
