Chapter 3 - The Midnight Escape
Isabelle winced slightly, trying to pull her wrist free from Patricia’s painful grip without causing a scene.
Victor Romano noticed the small wince.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees instantly.
Victor did not raise his voice. He did not threaten Patricia.
He simply looked at Patricia's hand wrapped tightly around Isabelle's wrist.
"Let her go," Victor commanded softly.
The authority in his voice was so absolute, so chillingly final, that Patricia released Isabelle immediately, as if she had been burned.
Patricia stepped back, her elegant facade crumbling completely into fear.
"Mr. Romano," Patricia stammered, trying to regain control.
"You misunderstand the situation."
"Isabelle’s father left very specific instructions in his will regarding her residency."
"She has finally decided it is time to move on and build her own life elsewhere."
Victor adjusted his coat, his expression a mask of cold indifference.
"That is a decision she can make for herself over dinner tomorrow."
He turned his attention entirely back to Isabelle.
"My driver will arrive at seven o'clock."
"Please wear something warm."
Without waiting for a response, Victor turned and walked out of the drawing room.
His security detail followed silently, leaving the Morgan women alone in the devastating aftermath.
The moment the heavy front door clicked shut, Patricia rounded on Isabelle like a vicious predator.
"You stupid, ungrateful girl!" Patricia screamed, her voice echoing off the high ceilings.
Vanessa and Clare watched with smug satisfaction as their mother advanced on their stepsister.
"Do you have any idea what you have just done?" Patricia demanded.
"You deliberately sabotaged your sisters' future!"
"I didn't do anything," Isabelle defended herself quietly, rubbing her bruised wrist.
"He asked a direct question about the contract."
"Because you practically threw yourself at him by parading those ledgers around!" Patricia accused wildly.
Patricia pointed a trembling finger toward the grand staircase.
"Pack your bags."
"I want you out of this house before the sun comes up."
Isabelle felt the floor drop out from beneath her.
"You can't do that," she protested, panic rising in her throat.
"My father's will says I can stay here until I choose to leave."
Patricia laughed, a harsh, ugly sound.
"Your father died owing millions of dollars, Isabelle."
"I am the executor of this estate, and I say you are a disruptive influence."
"If you are not gone by morning, I will have the police remove you for trespassing."
Isabelle ran to her small room in the attic, her vision blurring with tears.
She had nowhere to go, no money saved, and no friends powerful enough to protect her from Patricia's wrath.
She packed a single, worn suitcase with her few modest belongings.
As the grandfather clock struck midnight, she crept silently down the back stairs.
She opened the heavy service door leading to the alley behind the brownstone.
The freezing winter wind hit her instantly, biting through her thin coat.
She stepped out into the dark alley, utterly alone.
Suddenly, two massive figures stepped out of the shadows, blocking her path.
May you like
They were not police officers.
They were Victor Romano's security guards.
