The aroma of fresh vegetables and simmering spices filled the kitchen. Morning sunlight slipped gently through the window, casting soft golden light on the counters where Adrian stood, sleeves rolled up, focused on preparing brunch.
"I said you could wait in the living room, Isabella," Adrian said without looking up. "I can handle this."
"I know," Isabella replied calmly as she rinsed vegetables at the sink, "but I want to help."
She wasn't used to simply sitting and watching someone else work. Keeping her hands busy kept her mind steady. She washed the vegetables and meat, passed them to Adrian, and helped with the chopping while he handled the cooking. The atmosphere between them was quiet but peaceful — a rare moment of normalcy.
Once the prep was done, Isabella wiped her hands and sat on a high stool near the counter. She pulled out her phone and began searching for something, her brows slightly knit in thought. It was only after a while that she remembered — they came home late from the hospital last night and never got the chance to stop by any store.
She hesitated for a moment, then spoke softly."Adrian… I want to go to the market today. I need to buy a few things for myself. I'll go after we eat."
Adrian paused for a moment before replying, "Of course. You're free to go anywhere you want."
Isabella nodded but fell silent again. Though she could buy a new laptop and other essentials today, her heart felt heavy. She missed her old things—the ones she left at Grace Mansion.
Her old laptop, the one she spent years using for her plans and research.
Her diaries filled with strategies and calculations.
Her books—her comfort.
Her small collection of pens her father gifted her every year on her birthday.
And the framed photo of her and her father, taken long before betrayal poisoned their lives.
These things were not valuable to others, but they were priceless to her. Losing them felt like losing the last pieces of herself.
It would be so much better if she could go back and take her belongings from Grace Mansion.
But going to Grace Mansion now… meant walking into a trap.
She gripped her phone tighter, her heart aching.
Adrian noticed. He set two plates on the dining table, then leaned on the counter with folded arms, watching her in silence before speaking.
"You're not telling me something," he said softly, not as an accusation, but as a statement.
Isabella looked away. "It's nothing important."
"Isabella." His voice was patient but unyielding. "Say it."
She hesitated for a moment, then finally said, "I… left some personal things at Grace Mansion. Important things. Things I need. But don't misunderstand — I am not foolish enough to go there now."
Adrian's gaze softened. "You want them back."
Isabella clenched her jaw, masking her emotions. "They're mine. And I will take back everything that belongs to me. But right now is not the right time."
Adrian walked closer and stopped in front of her. "Then why didn't you just say that?"
"Because," Isabella replied, meeting his eyes, "I don't want you to interfere or risk anything for me. I can handle it."
He stared at her for a long moment — then to her surprise, he smiled slightly.
"You're my wife," he said quietly. "Nothing related to you is 'not my concern.' And I don't remember giving you the option of facing things alone."
Isabella opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Before she could respond, he continued,
"If you want your belongings back… I'll get them for you. Today."
She blinked in surprise. "What? No. It's too risky. Victor—"
"I said I'll get them," Adrian interrupted. "I didn't say you would go."
He took out his phone and sent a quick message to David.
"Make a list," he said. "Everything you want back. Your laptop, documents, books, clothes — whatever it is."
Isabella stared at him for a long moment. There was no pride in his voice, no arrogance. Just certainty. Strength. Protection.
For the first time since her world broke apart… she felt she wasn't alone.
She lowered her eyes and whispered, "Thank you."
Adrian didn't respond. Instead, he placed a glass of juice in front of her and said, in that calm steady voice of his, "Now eat. After this, we'll go out and get the rest of the things you need. And while we're out, we'll also get you a laptop. I don't want you straining your eyes over that phone again."
Isabella looked at the meal he had prepared — warm, simple, but thoughtful. Something in her heart softened.
After finishing their brunch, Isabella returned to the master bedroom to get ready for the market. She opened the wardrobe, expecting to see new clothes Adrian must have arranged for her.
But what she saw instead made her freeze.
She touched the first dress hanging at the front. Then the second. Then the third. Her brows knitted in confusion. These were not just similar to her clothes from Grace Mansion—these were her actual dresses. Every single one of them.
She stepped back slightly, stunned. How…? Yesterday, she had left the Grace Mansion in humiliation, with no chance to collect even a handkerchief. Yet everything she owned—her wardrobe, her memories—was now standing quietly in Adrian's house.
Did… did he really manage to bring them back so quickly? But how? And why didn't he mention it?
She pushed the thought aside for later and selected a soft sky-blue dress. Simple yet elegant. She took it to the changing room and got dressed. The moment she looked at herself in the mirror, a strange feeling settled in her heart. Comfort. Safety. As if a small part of her old life had silently found its way back to her.
When she stepped out, she stopped abruptly.
Adrian was inside the room—changing his shirt.
His back was to her at first, but when he turned, Isabella's heart skipped a beat. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his sculpted chest and defined muscles. His presence alone was powerful, but like this—calm, masculine, effortlessly dominant—he looked dangerously attractive.
Warmth bloomed across her cheeks, but she refused to look away. She took a steady breath and walked toward him.
Adrian's eyes landed on her, and for a second, he simply stared. The sky-blue dress hugged her gently, bringing out the softness of her features and the silent strength in her eyes. His hands froze at the shirt buttons.
He forgot to breathe.
Beautiful, he thought.
Then something caught his attention—her dress. He hadn't bought that. He didn't even know she owned something like this. Before he could ask how she got it—
Her fingers gently touched the open edges of his shirt.
Adrian stiffened.
Isabella began buttoning his shirt silently, starting from the bottom and working her way slowly upward. Her touch was soft, light… yet it made his heartbeat surge.
She didn't say a word. Neither did he.
When she finished the last button, she placed her hand briefly on his chest… and then leaned forward and kissed him softly on the cheek.
Adrian froze.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice low but heartfelt.
He blinked. "For what?"
She stepped aside and pointed toward the open wardrobe. "For bringing my things back from Grace Mansion."
Adrian's expression changed instantly.
He turned and walked toward the wardrobe. His eyes moved over the clothes—her clothes. Dresses, bags, even the same color-coded hangers she used. None of this was arranged by him.
This wasn't David's work. Then who…?
Isabella walked toward the study table near the window. Her steps slowed when she saw what was placed there.
Her laptop.
Her notebooks filled with plans.
Her books.
Her tablet.
Her entire past life, neatly returned to her.
She ran her hand over the laptop slowly, almost as if making sure it was real.
"You brought all of them back in such a short time," she said, turning to Adrian with gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you so much."
But Adrian didn't respond.
Because he hadn't done any of this.
He looked at Isabella, then at her belongings again, and a cold realization settled inside him.
IWho brought Isabella's belongings here?
And more importantly—
Why?