A month had passed, and surprisingly, nothing new had happened.
Isadora hadn’t seen anyone besides Tsubaki, and even she hadn’t been able to visit.
Her parents still had no idea where she was staying either.
Whenever they called her on video, Isadora would make her way to the garden before answering, pretending it was a park.
So far, they hadn’t suspected a thing.
Her life had fallen into a painfully repetitive routine: university, hospital, Valen’s estate, and back again.
She was always accompanied by her “men,” as she liked to call the two bodyguards Valen had assigned to her, and she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without them.
The worst part was that Valen barely let her leave the estate at all.
Whenever she complained, he gave her the same answer.
“You’re a target.” After hearing it for an entire month, Isadora was beginning to hate those two words.
It was Saturday morning, and for once, the estate felt unusually lively.
Music was blasting from Isadora’s room, some upbeat pop song loud enough to be heard all the way downstairs.
She was probably dancing around in there without a care in the world, completely unaware—or perhaps completely unconcerned—that half the staff could hear her.
One of the servants glanced toward the ceiling with a small smile.
“Miss Matthew really makes this place feel alive.” “I think she wants to die,” another whispered, already imagining their master’s reaction when he eventually came home.
“When the boss arrives and hears this, I don’t even want to know what he’ll do.” A third servant, who had been dusting a nearby table, couldn’t resist joining the conversation.
“I still don’t understand why the master brought her here.
She’s not even his girlfriend or his wife.” “Imagine if they actually fell in love.” The woman smiled at the thought, earning a laugh from the others.
Another servant picked up a flowerpot so she could clean underneath it.
“I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.
They’re completely different.” She shook her head, amused.
“They don’t exactly hate each other, but they don’t support each other either.
They just tolerate one another.” “Then I wonder what kind of mystery brought those two together in the first place.” Before anyone could answer, a familiar voice came from behind them.
“Still gossiping?” The servants froze.
Anthony stood there with his arms crossed, looking at them with an expression that immediately wiped the smiles from their faces.
“If the boss catches you doing this, you’ll all be dead.” The servants quickly lowered their heads.
“Sorry, Anthony.” He sighed, shaking his head as the music continued to echo from upstairs.
“Just pray he doesn’t hear that music too.” Valen arrived shortly after, around seven in the morning.
He hadn’t spent the night at the estate, and judging by the dark circles beneath his eyes, he’d barely slept at all.
The moment he stepped out of the car, however, whatever exhaustion he felt was quickly replaced by irritation.
The music was loud enough to be heard from outside.
Valen stopped beside the car and looked toward the estate with disbelief.
“What the hell is that music?
And who dares play it this loudly?” Ruel couldn’t help smiling.
He already knew the answer.
“Miss Matthew.” Valen closed his eyes for a moment.
“Of course.” He thought For the past month, Isadora had been slowly destroying every bit of peace and order he had once enjoyed in his own home.
His estate had always been quiet, controlled and predictable.
Then she had arrived, bringing loud music, arguments, a cat he was convinced was plotting against him, and an alarming determination to challenge his authority every chance she got.
There had been several moments when Valen had genuinely wondered how long he could tolerate her before killing her.
Somehow, he had survived a month.
He took a slow breath and headed inside, determined to deal with the situation without losing his temper.
When he reached Isadora’s room, he knocked.
Nothing.
He knocked again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
On the third knock, the door finally opened.
Isadora stood there in her pajamas, completely carefree, still moving to the music playing behind her.
“Valennnn!
Good morning!” Before he could even respond, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room, dancing as if he were simply another person there to enjoy the music.
Valen, however, remained completely still, his expression utterly indifferent while she danced around him.
“Could you please stop the music?” “What?” Isadora asked, barely paying attention as she continued dancing.
“I don’t understand.” “Stop.
The.
Music.” Apparently, that finally reached her.
She walked over to the speaker and switched it off.
The sudden silence made the room feel strangely empty after all that noise.
She turned back toward him.
“What were you saying?” Valen stared at her.
“I asked you to stop the music.” “Oh.” Isadora shrugged.
“But Valen, it’s Saturday.
Saturday is for having fun.” “And?” She gave him an offended look.
“I’ve been stuck here for a whole month.
I can’t even go to a club, and now you don’t want me to play a little music?” Valen rubbed his forehead, already feeling a headache coming on.
“So you want to go to a club?” “Yes!” she answered immediately, her mood brightening at the possibility.
Valen studied her for a moment.
Then, as if an idea had just occurred to him, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Fine.
Would you like to accompany me to a casino in Las Vegas?” Isadora’s eyes widened.
“Las Vegas?” Her sudden excitement made Valen wonder if he had just made a terrible decision.
.
.
.
Before they left, Isadora was surprised to find a stylist waiting for her at the estate, accompanied by several garment bags filled with dresses, shoes and accessories.
She stared at them in confusion.
“What’s all this?” The stylist smiled politely.
“Mr.
Da Costa sent us.
He said you could choose anything you wanted for tonight’s trip.” “Anything?” “Anything.” As if that wasn’t enough, a makeup artist and a hairstylist arrived shortly afterward.
Isadora looked from one person to another, completely stunned.
They were only going to spend one night at a casino.
Valen didn’t need to turn it into some kind of royal event.
“I don’t need all this,” she insisted, trying to send them away.
The stylist immediately shook her head.
“Please, Madam.
If you refuse, we’ll lose our jobs.” Isadora stared at her.
“That serious?” “Yes, Madam.” She sighed.
Apparently, Valen had already made his decision.
“Fine.” And that was how she ended up spending the afternoon trying on dresses, shoes and jewelry while the makeup artist and hairstylist worked around her.
What had started as a simple trip to a casino had somehow turned into an entire transformation.