Chapter 1

Isabella

Two years ago...

It was in one of the most exclusive cemeteries in the area we lived in, Newport Beach, California, it was my home until I reached the age of sixteen, for the first time I wore black, I never wanted to wear that color even for the gala events that my father did in his company; I refused because I associated it with pain, with the mourning that is carried in the soul after losing a loved one.

I had never participated in a wake, much less a funeral; they terrified me as much as the darkness, and many times I prayed to God that it would never be my turn to live one, but there I was, living the most painful of all, feeling that my soul was lost. My heart was turning to pieces, wanting to cry and not being able to because my tears were scarce in the last two days ago.

My father, John White, was standing in front of the casket of the woman of his life, his eternal love, my mother. He was trying to give a few words of thanks to all who were with us, trying not to break down, not to show his actual pain, one that I could not hide no matter how hard I fought. The rain began to fall as the coffin containing the body of Leah White Miller began to descend; I thought that only happened in the movies, but apparently, the weather had the virtue, sometimes, of showing itself according to the feelings we were experiencing.

For two years, Elliot Hamilton, my best friend, and boyfriend was by my side, supporting me as always. He intended to open an umbrella to protect us, but I refused. I needed the rain to wash away some of my pain. I threw a white rose after my father did too, and we left that place until Mom's grave was ready.

We left in silence until we got home. My father went to his office advising that he had to make some calls, and Elliot accompanied me to my room. He's two years older than I, and Dad always trusted him and didn't mind us being alone, especially at that moment when he decided to lock himself in his grief bubble and shut me out.

"I'm worried about his attitude," I commented to Elliot when we were in my bed.

We lay down on it, and I rested my head on his arm. He caressed my back; he looked tired, and I understood him. Since my mother's passing, he had not stopped, and together with his family, they helped dad with the preparations for mom's wake and burial.

"He will get over it. Give him time, baby. It's not easy what he's going through, what you're going through, and you each deal with it in your way," he comforted me.

I understood that I lost my mother, the best that life could give me, but dad lost an irreplaceable companion; I witnessed the love they both had for each other, even when they argued, it showed, and that was always amazing to me.

Leah White Miller was a beautiful woman from head to toe, a role model, and a mother by choice, with a big heart. My father went out of his way for her, and they loved each other unconditionally and uniquely. He swore to protect us from everything, but he could not fulfill his goal. I did not blame him, although I would always regret it.

I still didn't know the reason for her death, nor the details. Dad didn't want to tell me, and I let it go because I wasn't in the mood for it at that time. Still, I was not allowed to see her in her coffin as my father refused to let me do it in that state. And it was for the best since I didn't want to remember her that way but with life, love, and joy, which always characterized her.

I needed to go back to two days ago when mom went to drop me off at school, and before getting me out of the car, she hugged me tightly and told me how much she loved me. At that moment, I didn't find her attitude strange because it was something she often did, but just in those moments, I understood that she really said goodbye to me with those words and that gesture.

She looked a little nervous or perhaps excited. That was something I would never know.

Could it be that my mother sensed her death?

My conscience asked. I had the habit of talking and answering myself, and I even believed that my inner self had a life of its own.

When I discovered this as a girl, and my mother found me talking to myself, I told her what was happening to me and the little voice I was able to hear in my head; I asked her if I was going crazy, and she smiled tenderly: "No, my dear. You only can listen to yourself and many times that is good but try to listen only to the good things your conscience tells you and ignore the bad ones," she said, and I nodded more calmly. Although sometime later, I asked her to take me to a doctor to be sure, he confirmed the same as she did, and since then, I have let myself be guided by my inner voice.

However, I often fought more than talked with my conscience, as it advised me to do more bad things than good, at least wrong for me at the time.

"Thank you for being with me, for not leaving me alone," I whispered and clung to my boyfriend's body.

"I'll always be there for you, Isa. Don't thank that," he begged and kissed me on the crown of my head.

Elliot was too sweet, and our story could almost be compared to that of romantic, cheesy books. We knew each other since I was eight years old. When we attended the same school, he was two grades ahead of me, but my best friend at the time had her brother in the same grade Elliot was in. That's how we started to relate. The attraction was born when I turned fourteen. Of course, he had several girlfriends and I had to swallow a lot of jealousy because he did not look at me as I wanted, but no one could separate us when everything happened.

I admit that I was very spoiled by my parents, which made me always dream of a life like Disney princess stories, and Elliot became my perfect prince.

With sadness, I recognized that I was getting closer and closer to getting my own fairy tale since I not only had the charming prince, but I also lost my mother.

It was better to find a new fairy tale and fall in love with the villain.

Poof! Of course not. I love my prince.

I pleaded when my inner voice suggested such a thing.

____****____

Days passed, and with them, everything became worse.

Dad began to close in on himself more and took refuge in his work, and I began to feel lonely even though I had Elliot and my nanny Charlotte Sellers. The woman was my mother's age, and both were best friends from a very young age; I looked to Dad to comfort me in his arms, but he didn't always have time for me. When he came home from work, he would lock himself in his office and make calls in which he always ended up yelling and angry. I hated what my life was becoming and to ignore it. I ended up taking up my training again. Since I was ten years old, my mother enrolled me in self-defense and martial arts courses, there was a time when she also practiced with me, but I stopped when I became more interested in beauty parlors and going out with my friends.

Likewise, I ended up taking my father's path and drifting away from the few friends I had. My days began to be based on going to school, coming home to practice, doing homework, spending some afternoons with Elliot when he wasn't coaching on the soccer team he belonged to, or hanging out with his friends.

"Excuse me!" I exclaimed as I was leaving the training room we had at home.

I had bumped into a man who was stationed outside there, he was dressed in a black suit, and his posture was stiff and dangerous; it wasn't the first time I had seen him, and the only friend I still kept at school, commented that she noticed someone following me. That man was the same person.

"Forgive me, Miss White. It was my fault," he acknowledged, and I nodded.

"Why are you here, and have you been following me these days?" I wanted to know, and he looked at me a little uncomfortably.

"I work for your father. Those are his orders," he informed, and that didn't sit well with me.

All the nevers are being fulfilled since my mother's death, and this is another one. I have never needed a bodyguard, and I thought it was time to make my father listen to me. Since my life was taking a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, he wouldn't condescend to explain anything to me.

Determined that and having seen his car earlier, I headed to his sacred place; I noticed the man from earlier following me and brought out the Miller in my blood.

"Let's see, let's get something straight," My voice sounded demanding as I said that I was also getting the White mixed up, and that was already other levels. "I'm at home, and I don't think that here, someone wants to hurt me, so I'll appreciate it if you leave me alone. You make me nervous, and I'm already stressed enough without you making me worse," I blurted out. The poor man looked at me, scared.

"I don't mean to, but I have my orders, miss," he defended himself, and I denied.

"I'm going to talk to my father, and I want to do it alone," I settled. "If you insist on following me even when I go to the bathroom, I swear I'll make you have a challenging job from here on out, and believe me, I have the means to make you swear for agreeing to take care of me," I warned.

Damn it! That wasn't my suggestion.

I smiled satirically when my conscience pointed out such a thing, and the poor man thought I did it for him and looked at me in fright. It wasn't my intention to be disrespectful, the guy was carrying out orders, but the tension I was living in those days was already taking its toll on me.

I resumed my way, and I was grateful that he was no longer following me. Dad definitely had to listen to me and was more determined than before I headed to his office, but I stopped when I heard that he was not alone. The other voice was Elliot's father's, and although it wasn't my way, I stayed silent and listened to the little argument they were having.

"You need to calm down, John. You're acting like a rookie, just like that lowlife wants you to," Mr. Hamilton requested.

"It's easy to ask that when you're not in my shoes, isn't it, Robert?" Dad sounded too angry. "Tell me, what would you do if it was your wife who met my Leah's fate?"

"I know, John. I'm not saying it's easy what you're going through," Mr. Hamilton replied.

"It's not," agreed Dad, "and I assure you that if you were in my shoes and you found Eliza just like I found Leah, you wouldn't be telling me I'm acting like a rookie."

There was silence for a few seconds, and my heart broke when I heard Dad sob, but the blood left my body when he spoke again and said the following words:

"She was raped, Robert. That son of a bitch outraged my precious Leah's body. He defiled it in the worst way and was not satisfied with that. He killed her! He took my heart and stomped on it in the vilest way there is! So don't tell me he didn't..."

A loud sob escaped my mouth. There was no way to stop it.

There was no power to take away the pain I felt again, this time intensified to a thousand percent. The pain was mixed with hatred, with the desire to find the fuckers who murdered mom, who raped her, and take revenge on them; I needed to make them pay, to make them regret having touched and harmed her.

"Isabella! Daughter!" Dad called to me.

He and Robert Hamilton came out of the office when they heard me. I was sitting on the floor, hugging my knees and denying. I covered my ears, wishing I hadn't heard such an atrocity.

"Tell me I misheard, that it's a lie what you just said," I pleaded between sobs. "Daddy, please! Tell me Mommy died in an accident!" I never saw him cry before as he did in those moments.

And he didn't say what I wanted to hear. He just reached out to me and cradled me in his arms as I wanted so badly since my mother was gone.

They used to say that there were better left unsaid truths because they were more upsetting than unsaid information. It was often preferable to remain in ignorance at least for a while, while the heart healed from one wound and then bear another.

And after discovering something so aberrant, I had to face more changes in my life. Apparently, I had only made a one-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn. The other twenty followed and did not please me, as dad decided to send me to live out of the country, a week after I turned sixteen, claiming that I was also in danger. He was not willing to lose me. I felt it very unfair that he would take away the life I was used to, that he would take me away from my boyfriend and make me start a new life, apart from the fact that I wanted to be with him and support each other in our mourning. However, the fear in his eyes made me understand that he was doing this out of love, and it was the only thing that convinced me to give in.

"It won't be easy, but we'll make it," Elliot assured me when we were at the airport.

Since I found out the details of my mother's death, I cried every day, and again I was without tears, although my heart and soul wept with that goodbye. Dad said that everything that happened was because he had enemies who wanted the power, he wielded with his construction company. Because of a million-dollar contract, he won from the competition. And it was still unbelievable to me to know that there were people so sick and capable of acting against human life for simple greed.

Mom was worth more than a million-dollar contract.

No doubt about it.

"Keep your promise and come visit me on summer vacation," I almost demanded.

"Baby, you well know that in our families, promises are sacred," he reminded me. "You'll have me with you on day one when the vacations start." He kissed me softly, and I reciprocated gratefully.

"I love you," I whispered.

The final call to catch my flight was made, and Dad lovingly took my arm.

"I love you," he replied before I pulled away from him.

His blue eyes turned bright as I began to walk farther away from him.

I didn't want to say anything to him, but inside I felt that nothing would be as easy as he claimed and that this departure would change our lives forever. I hoped to return, although I sensed that I would no longer be the same girl who was saying goodbye at that moment to her sweet prince.

Something was screaming inside me that the spoiled and sweet Isabella White Miller died the day her mother did.

___________________________________________________________

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