ADRIAN
I should have expected it.
Isabella never walked away quietly.
Not when she was angry or hurt or when I was the one who put that look in her eyes.
But hearing her say she was a nuisance?
That hit harder than I wanted to admit.
I followed her into the villa, the cool air inside doing nothing to calm the heat simmering under my skin. She marched ahead of me, towel wrapped tightly around her, shoulders stiff, chin high — the picture of defiance.
She was so furious she didn’t even look back.
And I was losing my patience. I don't have time and we need to go.
“Isabella,” I said, shutting the door behind us. “Stop.”
She didn’t. She kept walking, straight toward the bedroom, like she was done with me... with this.
Done with everything.
I caught her wrist before she disappeared
