Chapter 91: Chapter 91 I shouldn’t have come here
Isabella turned to her slowly.
"You can’t talk about her like that," she said quietly, but the edge in her voice was sharp now. "Scarlett is kind. She’s loyal. And she’s not fake."
That made Alexa flinch.
Leonardo’s brows furrowed. "Bella," he said firmly. "She broke into a guarded house without permission. That’s not kindness—it’s recklessness."
"And you believe that?" Isabella’s eyes widened, the betrayal clear in her voice. "You think she’s the problem?"
Leonardo didn’t answer right away, and that silence was louder than anything he could’ve said.
It was enough.
Isabella blinked rapidly, her lips trembling slightly, but her anger was bubbling up stronger than her hurt. She looked around the table—Casper awkwardly looking at his plate, Alan shifting uncomfortably, Zion pretending to drink water to avoid the conversation.
"Right," she muttered. "Of course. The problem is always whoever not in this room."
She pushed her plate away gently and stood up, her chair scraping softly against the floor.
"Excuse me," she said.
And without waiting for anyone’s response, she turned and walked out, her head held high even as her heart thudded painfully in her chest.
"Bella!" Leonardo’s voice rang out sharply across the hallway, firm and commanding.
She froze mid-step, her shoulders tense.
But then without turning—she shouted back, her voice cracking from the lump in her throat, "Don’t call me Bella! I am Isabella for you!!"
And with that, she ran.
She didn’t care that her steps echoed or that her voice had silenced the entire dining hall. She didn’t care if her tears were already falling, hot and fast.
She reached her room, slammed the door shut, and leaned against it, gasping softly as her chest heaved. She turned the lock with trembling fingers and stumbled toward her bed like a child who had just been scolded unfairly.
Crawling into the soft blanket, she buried her face in the pillow and let it all pour out.
The confusion, the anger, the betrayal.
He didn’t trust her or her choice. He didn’t believe her.
He chose them over her—otherwise, why would he bring his friends on their honeymoon? Scarlett was right!
Her cries were muffled, but her small shoulders shook with every sob.
She curled into herself, hugging her own arms tightly, her long brown hair falling like a curtain to hide her tears. Her mind spun with every word that had been said, every glance, every time Leonardo hadn’t stood up for her.
And in that quiet storm inside her heart, one single thought repeated itself over and over—
I shouldn’t have come here.
***
At the dining table, an uncomfortable silence hung thick in the air after Isabella stormed off.
Alexa rolled her eyes dramatically and scoffed, swirling the wine in her glass. "She’s so immature. Honestly, why does she always act like a baby? Crying over everything."
Leonardo’s jaw tightened as he slowly turned his head toward her, eyes cold as steel. The look he gave her could freeze blood. "Enough, Alexa," he said flatly, his voice low with warning.
Casper sighed, placing his fork down with a clink. "Seriously, Alexa—you’re too much sometimes," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "Why are you always picking on that girl? You’ve had your fun. Can’t you let her be?"
Alexa huffed. "I’m just being honest."
"No," Casper said firmly. "You’re being cruel. That girl barely speaks and you act like she’s your personal punching bag."
Even Alan and Zion stayed quiet, the air stiff around them.
Casper glanced at Leonardo, then back at Alexa with a dry chuckle. "Goodness... you’re are terrifying."
Alexa stiffened, her pride bruised, but no one came to her defense this time.
••••
At the same time, in her cozy hotel room filled with half-unpacked tech gadgets and snacks, Scarlett sat cross-legged with her laptop balanced on her knees. Her screen glowed with tabs upon tabs open—social media accounts, old interviews, scandal forums, leaked chat groups.
Her fingers moved fast across the keys, and the more she read, the more her face twisted in pure disgust.
"Eww..." she muttered, clicking on yet another photo. "How can anyone be her fan? These photos are so Photoshopped—her jawline literally changes shape in every picture. Like, pick one face, girl!"
She pulled up a clip of one of Alexa’s dramas, watched ten seconds, then slapped her hand over her mouth with an exaggerated gasp. "What is this... 18th-tier acting? My toaster has more emotion."
Her eyes narrowed further when she clicked on a post. "Oh wow... positivity influencer, huh? Raising awareness about bullying while she bullies Bell like it’s a sport? Girl, you fake from head to toe."
Each new piece of information made Scarlett mutter louder.
Scarlett slammed her laptop shut. "That’s it. I’ve seen enough. She messed with the wrong cinnamon roll."
Scarlett pulled out her phone and dialed fast. "BlackKnight? Yeah. I need a favor. No, not a hack... yet. Just prepare the shovel. I’ll bring the dirt."
On the other side of the world or rather, floating somewhere off the Great Ocean in City R—BlackKnight was sprawled out on the velvet deck cushions of his private yacht, gazing at the night sky like a romantic villain with a hidden soft spot.
The water was calm, the stars above twinkling like secrets he already knew, and the soft instrumental music in the background was only interrupted by the occasional hum of the sea breeze brushing past his golden hair.
He had the kind of face people only see on luxury magazine covers—blond tousled hair, deep-set blue eyes that looked like they could either heal you or destroy you, and a jawline carved with terrifying precision. His European features were striking, and frankly, calling him "ugly" should have been a criminal offense.
He had just taken a sip of his aged wine when his encrypted phone buzzed. He glanced at it lazily and answered without even checking the caller ID.
"BlackKnight speaking," his voice smooth and deep, the kind that could sell out an entire podcast series with one line.
"Get your laptop," came Scarlett’s sharp voice on the other end. "We’ve got a snake."
BlackKnight blinked at the stars, not moving yet. "What snake?"