As we entered through the gates, I looked at my father and smiled. I promised myself then that I would do whatever it took to repay him for everything he had done for me. “Papa, maybe it’s time you found a wife,” I suggested playfully.

His hair was graying, but I knew it was the color he had chosen—it used to be a rich coffee brown that made him look much younger than his forty-seven years. I assumed several women would be eager to line up for the chance to be with him. He was still quite handsome for his age.

“No, it’s just a waste of time,” he replied with a shrug.

“Are you sure? Or are you still waiting for my mother to come back?” I teased, but my humor didn’t sit well with him. He frowned, his eyes turning away from me.

“I was only kidding, papa,” I said quickly, regretting my words.

“You’re right,” he muttered after a long pause.

I stared at him, shocked by his response. “Wait—are you serious? Oh my God, I can’t believe you, papa!” I shook my head, laughing incredulously. “I never thought I’d hear that from you!”

“It’s true love,” he reasoned, his tone soft but insistent.

“True love, my foot! If that’s what you call true love, then I don’t want any part of it!” I shot back, my words sharper than I intended.

“Isabella, you can’t say that,” he disagreed, his voice tinged with concern, but I just huffed in response. He had no idea what it was like to feel suffocated by expectations, to be tethered to a life you didn’t choose.

I was about to argue more, but we had arrived at the estate, and I didn’t want to risk the staff overhearing our argument. There could be a spy among the staff, and I couldn’t afford a scandal. Our business depended on maintaining the perfect image, and I wasn’t about to let a minor disagreement destroy that.

A uniformed woman followed me as I made my way toward the elevator, leading me to my bedroom. “How are you doing, Elena?” I asked warmly, trying to break the tension.

“Just fine, Miss Isabella,” she replied, her voice as timid as usual.

I rolled my eyes, trying to ease her nerves. “Come on, Elena, it’s just us here. No need for all the formality.” They were trained to be proper, to never act out of line, but I preferred it when they treated me like family. Elena had been with us for nearly fifteen years, and she’d seen me grow up. She was more than just a servant; she was a confidante.

Once in my room, Elena helped me with my bath. While she scrubbed my back, we chatted about everything and nothing. After a few minutes of silence, I found myself asking a question that I hadn’t really intended to voice out loud. “Do you think I’m happy with my life?”

Her gasp was immediate, and I could hear her pause. “You are Sebastian Cruz’s only daughter. Isn’t that enough to be happy?”

I could hear the wisdom in her voice, but it didn’t reach my heart. “You always have a clever answer, Elena.” I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “To be honest, I don’t feel like an heiress. That title is just a name. Without my father’s last name, I’m a nobody.”

Elena sighed, as though she understood, and I appreciated that. She’d been with us since my father’s rise to wealth, and I trusted her more than anyone else in the world. If my father ever decided to find a wife, I would happily recommend Elena to him. She deserved happiness just as much as anyone else.

After she helped me get dressed, I gave her a little something from my latest trip to Chicago. I had gone to meet with Victor Ramos, the renowned architect based in the U.S. His firm had caught the attention of our architectural division, and we wanted him on board. When our representatives failed to secure his signature, I knew I had to step in.

I was lucky. He agreed to work with us after a long conversation. It was only when I mentioned that my father had helped him when he was just starting out that things turned around. Victor said he remembered my father—how he’d helped him when they were neighbors, back in the old days before any of us had anything. I couldn’t recall those years, but I didn’t need to. What mattered was that he was coming to work with us. That was a win.

With a sigh, I walked over to the window after changing into a comfortable dress. From up here, I could see the ocean stretching endlessly. It seemed so close, yet the reality was I had to travel for more than an hour just to reach it.

Another sigh escaped my lips, and I sank back onto my massive bed. The firm had become my world, and home felt… empty. I often wondered if anyone would care about me if my last name weren’t Cruz. Without my father’s name, who would I be?

I had spent so many years trying to live up to his expectations, to make him proud. It was suffocating. But he was the only one who had ever loved me unconditionally, and I owed him everything. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

I was supposed to rest, but I couldn’t escape the swirling thoughts. At twenty-eight, I was expected to be dating, to have a fiancé, but I had no interest in any of it. I refused to let anyone have power over me. Not now, not ever.

The sound of someone knocking on my door pulled me out of my thoughts. It was time for dinner. When I entered the dining room, I greeted my father as usual, but his expression was unreadable, stern even. “Papa, is something wrong?” I asked, sensing the tension.

“Not really,” he replied, though his tone suggested otherwise. “Isabella, can you be honest with me about your love life? Do you have a boyfriend, or are you dating someone behind my back? Just tell me.”

I pursed my lips, shaking my head. “I’m not interested in men, Papa.” My response stunned him, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at his reaction. “No, I’m not a lesbian!” I clarified, sensing the confusion in his eyes.

“Then why aren’t you interested in men? You’re already twenty-eight, and at your age, I already had you. Look at you now!” He paused, his gaze shifting to something behind my eyes, something he didn’t want to say. “Well, I’ve arranged a deal with the Valeras , and you only have to marry their second son.”

My heart skipped a beat. I blinked several times, trying to process what he’d just said. “What? Why do I have to marry their son?”

“It will benefit the company,” he replied, his words firm.

“By using me?” I snapped, my anger rising. “Papa, how could you do this? We already talked about this. I don’t want to get married, I don’t want to start a family, and I absolutely don’t want anything to do with Adrian Valera!”

“I wanted his older brother, but he’s already engaged! We can’t break that engagement without causing problems for ourselves,” he explained, his voice pleading.

“When I said I didn’t want to get married or have a family, I meant it!” I insisted, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “Even if it strengthens our business, I won’t do it, Papa!”

He frowned, clearly disappointed by my decision, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he tried to soften the blow. “It’s business, Isabella. You know how these things work.”

I knew what he was thinking. He was pushing me into something I didn’t want. And then he dropped the bombshell. “Adrian Valera is coming to see you tomorrow.”

I froze. “Who’s coming?”

“Adrian and his family,” he replied, and I felt my resolve harden.

That was it. I had made up my mind. I would leave the castle. I would disappear, hide, until I could figure out how to escape this fate, this life my father had mapped out for me.

I stared at the empty space around me, still processing the fact that I had finally made the decision to break free. It felt surreal, yet, despite the exhilarating feeling of independence, a looming sense of poverty greeted me. Regret, I knew, would come at some point, but I couldn’t let my father’s relentless pressure to control my marriage hold me back—not when it involved someone as despicable as him.

“Are you okay?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked up at the man standing in front of me. My brain was slow to process his presence. As the COO of Cruz Architecture, meeting handsome men wasn’t exactly rare for me. But there was something about this stranger that immediately caught my attention—his athletic frame, and my gaze involuntarily lingered on the veins snaking down his muscular arms.

“I’m fine,” I replied quickly, standing up before his hand could touch my arm. “Please, just forget about me,” I added, brushing him off.

“Are you sure?” His concern felt genuine, and I hated him for it. “You seem lost. Are you new around here?”

He was being friendly, so the least I could do was not be rude. I contemplated walking away, but then an idea struck me. Maybe he could help me find a job. “Actually, yeah. My friend moved away, and now I’m looking for work.”

“I see,” he responded, studying me.

“I’m not a fraud!” I blurted out, my defensiveness getting the best of me. His eyes had scrutinized my appearance, from head to toe, and it made me feel uncomfortable.

“You must be from far away,” he observed.

“Yeah, you could say that. Do you know anyone looking for help around here?”

“I might,” he said thoughtfully.

“I’ll work for meals. I don’t need pay, as long as I can eat.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he said.

Excitement bubbled up inside me. “Can I get the address?” I asked eagerly.

“Well, I can give you a ride,” he offered, his voice low.

The moment he mentioned the ride, my skin prickled. What if he was some kind of criminal looking for his next victim? A chill ran down my spine, my heart racing as he stared at me. I quickly took a step back.

“I’m not sure I should take a ride with a stranger,” I said, the caution in my voice clear.

He stiffened, clearly offended. “I’m just trying to help. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

He gave me one last look and then turned to leave. But before I could react, he spoke again.

“Hurry up if you want to come with me.”

His tone was cold, and I had no choice but to hurry and keep pace behind him.

As we approached a sleek, black car, my eyes widened. A limited edition Lexus! Only a select few could afford such a vehicle, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d said something wrong for noticing. “Are you rich?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. It wasn’t the most tactful question, but I was too curious.

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice nonchalant as though owning a car like this was nothing special.

Despite my reservations, I climbed into his car. My instinct told me to be cautious, but I had no choice—my father’s people could be looking for me, and I couldn’t let them find me.