Chapter 13 Warmth and Cold.
Isla’s POV.
I didn’t have any plans of going outside, but I needed air so badly.
My room felt tighter than usual, like the walls itself were talking to me.
I didn’t feel like myself. I couldn’t sleep or sit down. I kept walking around the room recklessly.
After breakfast, after my father’s call, after the message that still burned at the back of my mind, staying in the room felt impossible.
I had to walk. Down to the corridor. Past rooms and doors. Past the maids and guards who stood like statues waiting for orders.
The garden gates were already open. I stepped in. Maybe this was the only place in this mansion where peace existed.
The air was cold and calm, exactly how it needed it. When it touched my skin… I felt a little relieved .
I walked slowly along the stone path, fingers brushing the leaves as I passed. The flowers were too perfectly trimmed.
Footsteps echoed behind me. I didn’t turn, I already knew who it was.
“Running again?” His voice came through low and even.
I stopped. “I wasn’t running,” I said.
He came up beside me, hands in his pockets, jacket hanging loose like he didn’t care.
“You always walk fast when you’re upset,” he said.
“I didn’t know you paid attention.”
His mouth curved slightly. It wasn’t a smile.
“I notice things.”
We stood there side by side, but not touching. The silence between us was heavy, and charged with things neither of us didn’t want to talk about.
Then… another voice cut through. Soft, smooth, and female.
“So this is where you disappear to.” I turned.
She stood a few steps away, dressed in black silence, and sunglasses perched on her head like she owned this place.
Her hair fell perfectly down her back, not a strand out of place.
She wasn’t surprised to see me.
That was the first thing that told me everything.
Her eyes moved over me slowly. From my face to my dress. To my hands.
She smiled, He stiffened behind me.
“Andre,” he said flatly. “You weren’t announced.”
She laughed lightly. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Her gaze slid back to me. “I see you’re… busy.”
I didn’t speak, I didn’t need to. He stepped closer to me. Subtle intentional.
“This is my wife,” he said.
Andre tilted her head. “So you are,” she said softly. “You look younger than I imagined.”
Her words weren’t rude or sharp. But they were cruel.
“I’m Andre De Lucia,” she added, extending her hand.
I looked at it, then at her. I didn’t take it.
Her smile didn’t fade. “Shy,” she murmured. “That’s rare these days.”
“I’m not shy,” I said. “I’m selective.”
His gaze snapped to me. Andre’s eyes gleamed.
“Oh,” she said. “I like that.”
She stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her perfume.
She stepped closer intentionally. “You fit better than I had expected,” she continued. “I was thinking you’d looked more… desperate.”
My heart slammed. I said nothing. He moved.
“That’s enough,” he said coldly.
Andre turned to him slowly. “Protective already?” She asked. “You never were with me.” Her voice was soft and seductive.
“That was a different time.” He cut in, voice cold.
“And yet,” she said softly, intentionally. “Here I am.”
She then looked at me again, like I was just a thing.
“You should be more careful,” she said, voice calm. “This world isn’t kind to women who stay quiet.”
I met her gaze. “Being silent doesn’t mean I’m an easy prey.”
Her smile sharpened. She turned back to him.
“I’ll be staying a few days,” she said, “In the city.”
He didn’t respond. “I thought we could talk,” she added. “About old arrangements.”
“There are no arrangements,” he replied, looking at her face cold.
She shrugged. “There always are.”
She stepped back, adjusting her hair. “It was lovely meeting you,” she said to me. “Truly.”
I didn’t respond. I wasn’t in for any drama and she wasn’t my problem.
She walked past us, heels clicking against stones, unhurried, and confident.
She was gone when I realized that I had been holding my breath.
He exhaled slowly. “You didn’t say much.”
“I didn’t need to.” I replied.
“You just let her walk all over you.”
I turned to him. “No,” I said quietly. “I just let her think she did.”
He looked at me closely. “You’re too forgiving,” he said. “That’s going to get you killed.”
“I have survived worse than her.”
He stepped closer. “You learned to endure,” he continued. “Not to fight.”
I looked away. “Fighting doesn’t always win.”
“And silence never does,” he said, voice cold like ice.
His hand lifted, hesitated, then dropped back to his sides.
“Next time,” he added, “I won’t wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“For you to decide whether you’re worth defending.”
That hit harder than anything else. He always knew how to put his words.
We stood there, the space between us tight with unspoken words.
The silence between us stretched deeper and longer.
I hugged myself, unsure if I should thank him or apologize for existing.
“You didn’t really have to do that,” I said quietly, voice broken.
He turned, slowly and controlled. His eyes locked with mine.
“Yes,” he said. “I did.”
My breath caught as he stepped closer. Not touching but gentle.
He was so close enough that I felt him.
“But don’t mistake it,” he continued. “I didn’t defend you because you’re weak.”
Shame burned my chest. “You should’ve spoken,” he said.
“You should’ve pushed back.” He murmured silently.
“I…” I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
“And next time,” he cut in, voice flat. “You will.”
I looked straight at him. “And what if I don’t?”
Something unreadable crossed his face. He leaned down.
Close and dangerous. “Then,” he murmured. “I won’t step in again.”
He straightened instantly. Coldly straightened instantly.
“Go to your room, Isla.”
And as he turned away, I realized.
The man who had just protected me… was the same man who would let me fall.