Isabelle’s POV
The manor was too quiet when I walked in. No scent of lunch wafting from the kitchen. No Gretchen humming to herself while folding linens or wiping down the counters.
Just silence and stillness.
Except for the soft rustling of leaves outside and the muffled voices of the guards stationed along the property.
I dropped my keys into the crystal bowl by the door and locked it behind me. My footsteps echoed on the marble floor as I made my way to the living room, expecting—hoping—to hear Nathan’s voice. But he wasn’t home.
Again.
I slumped into the armchair and let my purse slide to the floor. My phone buzzed on cue: a text from Nathan.
Nathan: Gonna head up north for a few hours, okay? Will be back before evening, Love you.
I stared at the message, thumb hovering. My c
