By the time Isadora returned from the hospital that morning, the estate was unusually quiet.
She dropped her bag on the sofa and let out a tired sigh.
The hospital shift had been exhausting, and all she wanted was a shower, something to eat, and a few hours without having to deal with Valen’s irritating presence.
Unfortunately, the universe seemed to have other plans.
As she walked past the staircase, Anthony appeared from the hallway.
“Miss Matthew.” Isadora stopped.
“Yes?” “The doctor has finished treating the boss.” She looked at him, unsurprised.
“So he finally let someone examine him?” Anthony nodded.
“He needed stitches.” “I told him he needed medical attention.” “He’ll be fine.” “I know he’ll be fine.
I told him to get treated before it got worse.” Anthony almost smiled.
“He asked not to be disturbed.” Isadora glanced toward the staircase.
“Of course he did.” She picked up her bag again and turned toward the stairs.
Anthony’s expression changed immediately.
“Miss Matthew.” She stopped and looked over her shoulder.
“What?” “You know you’re not allowed on the third floor.” “I’m aware.” “Mr.
Valen was very clear about it.” “And I’m very clear about the fact that he needed stitches.” Anthony hesitated.
“He may not appreciate you ignoring his orders.” Isadora gave him a tired look.
“He’ll survive.
Apparently, he’s very good at that.” She started up the stairs.
“Miss Matthew.” She stopped again.
Anthony sighed.
“If he asks, I didn’t see you.” “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said this morning.” She continued climbing.
The first floor passed without incident.
Then the second.
When she reached the staircase leading to the third floor, she paused for half a second.
The warning was clear in her mind.
She was strictly forbidden from going there.
Valen had made that very clear from the beginning.
But so had she.
She had told him he needed medical attention, and he had ignored her.
Now he had ended up with stitches.
If he wanted to be angry because she had come to check on him, he could add it to the list of things he was already angry about.
Isadora climbed the remaining stairs.
She knocked once on Valen’s door and entered without waiting for an answer.
Valen was sitting near the window, dressed in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
His injured arm rested against the arm of the chair, the fresh bandage clearly visible.
His eyes lifted toward her.
“You’re back.” Isadora closed the door behind her.
“Apparently, you got stitches.” “Yes.” “I told you.” Valen’s expression remained completely indifferent.
“Congratulations.” She crossed her arms.
“You could at least admit I was right.” “I don’t remember agreeing to that.” “You didn’t have to agree.
The stitches did it for you.” “Isadora.” “Valen.” She narrowed her eyes.
He looked back at her with the same calm expression that always made her want to throw something at him.
“You refused my help,” she said.
“Then your wound got worse.” “I saw the doctor.” “Eventually.” Valen said nothing.
“That means I was right.” “You’re enjoying this far too much.” “Maybe.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Valen noticed it and immediately regretted letting her into the room.
Then his gaze shifted toward the door.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” “I know.” “You’re not allowed on this floor.” “I know that too.” “And yet you came up here.” “Yes, Valen.
I’m aware of what I did.” His eyes narrowed slightly.
“You’re very calm for someone who just broke one of my rules.” “You’re very calm for someone who needed stitches after ignoring medical advice.” “That isn’t the same thing.” “It is to me.” She stepped closer, studying the bandage despite herself.
“Does it hurt?” “A little.” She nodded, unsurprised.
“Good.” Valen raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe now you’ll listen next time.” “Don’t get carried away.” She rolled her eyes.
Then her expression softened slightly.
“Seriously, though.
You should rest that arm.
Don’t lift anything heavy.” “I know.” “And change the dressing when the doctor told you to.” “I know.” “And don’t pretend you’re fine if the pain gets worse.” “Isadora.” “What?” “You’re doing it again.” She blinked.
“Doing what?” “Talking too much.” Her mouth fell open.
After everything that had happened, that was what he chose to say?
“You know what?
Fine.
I won’t say anything.” She turned toward the door.
Valen watched her leave.
She reached the doorway, then paused.
Without turning around, she said quietly, “I’m glad you’re okay.” For once, Valen didn’t have a sarcastic response ready.
He watched her disappear down the hallway.
The room became quiet again.
Too quiet.
His gaze dropped to the bandage on his arm.
He remembered the way she had cleaned the wound earlier, despite the fact that blood made her uncomfortable.
She had been pale, but she hadn’t stepped away.
She had simply kept working, her hands steady while she tried to hide her fear.
And now she had returned from a long shift at the hospital and climbed all the way to the third floor, despite knowing she was forbidden to come there, just to check on him.
Valen leaned back in his chair.
He didn’t understand her.
Most people approached him because they wanted something.
Money.
Protection.
Power.
Information.
Isadora had never asked him for any of those things.
She simply argued with him.
She complained.
She laughed at him.
She broke his rules.
She irritated him every single day.
And somehow, without asking permission, she had become part of his routine.
But there was something else about her that unsettled him even more.
Trust had never come easily to Valen.
He had learned a long time ago that people lied when it benefited them, betrayed when the opportunity arose, and stayed close only as long as they had something to gain.
He trusted almost no one, and even those who had earned a place near him were never given access to everything.
Yet with Isadora, something felt different.
He didn’t know when it had started.
Maybe it was the way she spoke to him without fear.
Maybe it was the fact that she never tried to manipulate him or use his weakness against him.
Maybe it was because, even when she was angry, he knew exactly where he stood with her.
She was honest.
Uncomplicated.
Predictable in a way he had never expected to find comforting.
And, despite himself, Valen had begun to feel that he could trust her.
The realization made his expression harden.
Trusting someone was dangerous.
Trusting Isadora might be even more dangerous because, for the first time in years, the feeling didn’t seem forced.
He glanced toward the closed door.
He believed she would keep his secrets.
He believed she would tell him the truth.
He believed that if she ever had the chance to hurt him, she wouldn’t take it.
And he hated how certain he was.
That thought bothered him more than the wound.
Because routines could become habits.
And habits could become things a man wasn’t willing to lose.
Valen looked away.
No.
He wasn’t going to think about that.
He had more important things to worry about.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
Downstairs, a loud crash suddenly echoed through the estate.
Valen’s eyes closed.
He already knew.
“Isadora…” Another crash followed.
Then her voice rang through the house.
“ANTHONY!
I DIDN’T BREAK IT!” Valen opened his eyes slowly.
He had been wrong.
The wound wasn’t the most troublesome thing in the house.
She was.