Chapter 73: Chapter 73 Violating privacy
Isabella had fallen asleep with the blanket pulled over her head, her cheeks still damp from the quiet tears she didn’t want to admit were real. She didn’t remember when exactly her eyes closed, only that her chest had felt tight, and her heart had whispered things she wasn’t ready to hear.
By the time the sun lit up the room the next morning, she stirred gently, blinking at the golden light slipping through the window. Her lashes fluttered as she slowly sat up, the blanket slipping from her shoulders.
She was alone.
She glanced around sleepily at first, then properly and felt her chest sink. The door was open. She hadn’t closed it when she ran in the night before. If Leonardo had come in, she would have known. There was no sign of anyone.
This was her room.
He wasn’t staying here.
She sniffled softly and rubbed her eyes. Her heart dropped lower as she hugged her knees for a second, just sitting there quietly on the bed, letting herself feel the emptiness.
Then she exhaled slowly and got up.
Walking toward the suitcase, she opened it and found something new inside—a small zippered toiletry bag placed neatly on top. Curious, she opened it and saw the basic essentials inside: a toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash, a comb, even a tiny bottle of lotion and sunscreen.
Her brows furrowed slightly. Someone had thought of these things. Packed them for her.
Maybe him?
She didn’t know.
Trying to shake away the thoughts, she reached deeper inside to find a towel folded neatly, along with a set of clothes... but the moment she opened them, her mouth dropped slightly.
Short skirts.
One after another—cute tops, cropped styles, short skirts, sundresses, light dresses that barely reached the knee. Stylish. Pretty. But very... revealing.
"I can’t wear this!" she whispered to herself, her eyes wide, feeling like she was about to cry again. "Who packed this? What kind of fashion show am I going to?!"
But with no other choice and not wanting to look like a puffy-eyed zombie all day—she chose the least revealing option and slipped into the bathroom to shower.
She stood under the water quietly, letting it calm her, letting it carry away everything she didn’t want to feel.
After a while, she stepped out, fresh-faced and clean, her damp hair tied in a soft ponytail.
Her reflection looked brighter.
But her heart still felt a little bit out of place.
The dress Isabella ended up wearing was a soft shade of blue, light and silky, hugging her gently before ending just below her thighs. One side hung slightly off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone and a little more than she was used to.
She stared at herself in the mirror, unsure. Her skin looked fairer and her eyes, though a little tired, still held something soft . She reached up and gently pulled the hair tie from her ponytail, letting her long brown hair fall loose around her shoulders. It gave her a more natural look, a little more confident... or at least, she hoped.
Her stomach growled softly, reminding her that she hadn’t had dinner last night. She touched her belly with a guilty wince, then turned toward the door, hoping to find food or at least something warm to distract her. But as she walked quietly down the hallway and stepped into the living room area, her steps froze.
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
There right in front of her was Alexa in her sexy silk pajamas, one strap lazily slipping down her arm, crouched beside the couch with Isabella’s bag open in front of her, her fingers digging through it like it was hers.
Isabella’s blood turned hot.
Her sadness, confusion, and heartbreak all snapped in that single moment.
"THAT’S MY BAG!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the house as she ran forward, eyes burning.
Alexa’s head jerked up, her hand still halfway inside the bag, lips parting in fake surprise.
Alexa had already pulled Isabella’s laptop from the bag and placed it on her lap like it was hers. Her long, polished nails tapped casually against the surface as she flipped it open, her red lips curled in annoyance when she heard Isabella shout.
"Hey! Don’t shout," Alexa snapped, rolling her eyes without guilt. "I’m just using your laptop, okay? I forgot mine." Her tone was dismissive, like she was doing Isabella a favor instead of violating her privacy.
But Isabella wasn’t having it.
She marched forward, her fingers grabbing the edge of the laptop. "It’s not yours," she said through gritted teeth, trying to pull it back. Her heart was pounding—not just from anger but from disbelief.
Alexa’s grip tightened.
Her smile dropped, replaced with a sharp glare.
"Why are you snatching like a crazy person?" she hissed, tugging the laptop back toward her. Isabella didn’t let go, trying to pull harder but Alexa’s expression turned darker.
In one quick, mean motion, Alexa’s nails dug into Isabella’s wrist, scraping down with sharp precision.
"Ahh—!"
Isabella cried out, her grip loosening instinctively as her hand jerked back. Her eyes filled with sudden tears, not just from the sting of the scratch, but from the humiliation of being hurt in her own space, again.
Alexa smirked.
She held the laptop tighter now, victorious, her eyes gleaming as if she’d won something.
Isabella looked down at the red mark on her wrist, her chest rising in shock, the pain crawling up not just her arm but into her chest.
"My laptop," Isabella snapped, her voice trembling with anger, and before Alexa could react, she yanked it back into her arms, clutching it protectively against her chest.
She also grabbed her bag and held it close, her breath shaky but her eyes blazing. "I’m telling him," she said sharply, turning to leave.
But Alexa didn’t flinch. She simply leaned back on the couch, her legs crossed slowly, confidently, one hand resting under her chin while the other tugged at the collar of her satin nightgown—letting it slide just low enough to show off the smooth curve of her chest.