Bella stood at the iron gates of Nathan Nathan's mansion, her small bag resting beside her .
The morning air was cool, brushing against her skin as if trying to steady her. Behind her, the house loomed—vast, quiet, immaculate.
It looked untouched by emotion, by heartbreak, by the weight pressing against her chest.
She knew anyone could tell what's wrong with her, but she knew she couldn't talk to anyone about what happened.
Not the maids who had smiled gently at her when she passed them in the hallway. Not the head maid, Mrs Janet, who had offered to do what she wanted but she never asked.
Not even the butler who had watched her hesitate at the door as if he sensed something final in her stillness.
Bella exhaled slowly and stepped forward.
Each step away from the mansion felt heavier than the last.
She didn't know why she was leaving. Or perhaps she did—but didn't want to say it out loud.
Because staying would mean hoping.
And hope, right now, hurt more than loneliness.
A taxi was already idling at the corner of the street. The driver leaned against the door, scrolling through his phone. When he saw her approaching, he straightened and opened the trunk without a word.
"Where to, miss?" he asked once she was inside.
She gave him her address.
As the car pulled away, Bella looked back once.
The mansion disappeared behind the trees.
She turned her gaze forward and pressed her forehead lightly against the window.
She told herself she wasn't crying.
Just breathing too hard.
The city looked different when you felt broken.
The noise felt sharper. The buildings taller. The people farther away.
The taxi driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror.
"Everything alright?" he asked gently.
Bella nodded. "Just tired."
"Long night?"
She almost laughed.
"You could say that."
He smiled sympathetically and turned up the radio softly.
Bella closed her eyes.
Nathan's voice echoed in her mind—calm, controlled, unyielding.
No affection. No expectations.
She had nodded like she understood.
But what he hadn't seen—what he couldn't possibly know—was that she had already given him something he never asked for.
Her heart.
And now she was walking away with it bruised and aching.
When the taxi stopped outside her apartment building, Bella paid and stepped out slowly.
The driver hesitated. "Take care of yourself, miss."
She nodded. "Thank you."
The stairwell smelled faintly of detergent and old paint. Familiar. Ordinary. Nothing like the quiet luxury she had just left behind.
Her apartment door was unlocked.
Her body went tense immediately.
Bella pushed it open cautiously.
Claire was inside.
Sitting on the couch like she belonged there.
"Well," Claire said, rising slowly, a smirk curling her lips. "Back already?"
Bella closed the door behind her. "Get out."
Claire laughed softly. "Still pretending you have authority."
"What are you doing here?" Bella demanded.
"Father gave me a key," Claire replied lightly. "He was worried. You've been… making headlines."
Bella dropped her bag. "You leaked that story."
Claire shrugged. "People love scandals."
"You drugged me," Bella said, her voice cold despite her effort to stay calm. "You tried to destroy me."
Claire's eyes hardened. "You survived. Be grateful."
Something inside Bella snapped.
"Grateful?" she whispered. "You set me up to be raped."
Claire stepped closer. "Careful."
"No," Bella said, her voice rising. "I've been careful my entire life. I'm done."
Claire's hand rose suddenly, her face twisted with rage.
Bella reacted instinctively.
Smack.
The sound echoed sharply.
Claire froze, staring at Bella in shock, her hand suspended midair.
Bella's chest heaved. Her palm burned—but she didn't regret it.
"Don't ever raise your hand at me again," Bella said, her voice shaking but strong.
Claire's eyes filled with fury. "You think this makes you powerful?"
"No," Bella replied. "Surviving you does."
The door opened.
Their father stepped in.
He took one look at Claire's reddened cheek and turned on Bella.
"So now you've become violent?" he barked.
Bella met his gaze. "She tried to hit me."
He scoffed. "After everything you've done?"
"You threw a cup at my face," Bella said quietly. "And you're still blaming me."
Claire immediately went into acting like the innocent elder sister she always pretended to be
" Dad, please don't be mad at Bella. It was my fault, I guess I shouldn't have come to apologize. Maybe she really hate me". Claire said sobbing quietly.
If anyone saw her, they'll think Bella is the one bullying her.
Bella calmly looked at Claire's drama not bothering to say anything. She was tired of this.
Theodore's jaw tightened. "Everything you touch turns into disgrace. You can't even spare your own sister. You're too vicious!."
Something went cold inside her.
"No," Bella said firmly. "Everything you ignore becomes abuse. And she's not my sister. She's the proof that you betrayed my mother. An illegitimate daughter ".
Claire's eyes widened. Anger, rage, all joined together couldn't describe what she's feeling.
'illigitimate'.
The word she hated the most. The reason why she's done everything to destroy Bella.
Claire clenched her first so hard, nearly injuring herself but even the pain couldn't stop the hatred boiling in her heart.
'Just you wait Bella. As long as I'm alive, I'll do everything to destroy and kill you'. Claire thought to herself while boring holes on Bella with her eyes.
Hearing that word from Bella made Theodore so angry .
He lifted his hand, ready to slap her.
Bella didn't move.
"Touch me," she said calmly, "and I will expose everything. Every lie. Every bruise."
The room went silent
.
Her father lowered his hand slowly.
Claire looked away. Biting her lips so hard it could draw blood.
Bella picked up her bag.
"I'm done," she said. "With all of you."
She walked out.
This time, no one followed.
Hours later, Nathan sat in his office, listening to quarterly reports he barely registered.
"Sir."
Butler Lee 's voice came through the line, careful and respectful.
"Yes?"
"Miss Bella has left the mansion."
Nathan paused.
"She left?" he repeated.
"Yes, sir. On her own."
Nathan ended the call.
He stared at the city skyline through the glass wall of his office.
For reasons he refused to name, the image of Bella walking away—alone, hurt, unresolved—settled heavily in his chest.
He told himself it was inconvenience.
Nothing more.
But the rest of the day, the feeling didn't fade.