The car came to a smooth stop in front of the Quinn estate, and for a long moment, neither of us moved.
The engine was still running. I reached for the handle.
"Wait." Cassian’s voice stopped me.
My fingers stilled, and I slowly turned, meeting Cassian’s heated gaze.
"You are hesitating again, do you—"
"I’m not—" I cut him off, frowning slightly. I was feeling more unsettled than I wanted to admit.
"Me hesitating right now doesn’t mean anything."
"It does." His gaze held mine for a second longer. Then he reached forward. I stiffened, thinking he was going to touch me, but he only opened the door.
"Go," he said.
I swallowed and stepped out of the car.
The moment my feet touched the ground, I saw them: Estelle and Joel, standing in the foyer, approaching us.
Cassian stepped out from the driver’s side, closing the door quietly behind him.
I could feel his presence behind me.
"Isabelle," Estelle called, her tone tight with concern as she hurried forward. "Your brother told us what happened. Are you alright?"
"I’m fine," I replied, giving her a reassuring smile.
Her eyes scanned my face, searching. Behind her, Joel remained standing as he watched everything unfold.
Cassian came to stand beside me. Father stepped forward then, his expression polite but sharp beneath the surface.
"Cassian," he said. "We appreciate the gesture. Thank you for ensuring her safety."
Cassian inclined his head slightly, his eyes flickering to me again.
"I’ll be leaving," he said.
My chest tightened.
"I’ll see you around... Miss Quinn."
The way he said it...it didn’t feel like a casual farewell. It felt like something else.
He turned without waiting for a response. And just like that, he was gone.
The sound of the car pulling away echoed faintly.
"Come, dear, let’s go inside. Are you sure you are okay?"
"I’m fine," I said quickly. Too quickly.
"Really, Mum. Cassian took great care of me," I added.
"Okay, I believe you. Come, I want to know everything that happened," she said, her tone shifting from worried, curiosity taking over.
My cheeks grew hot as Cassian’s kisses replayed in my mind.
"Nothing happened. We just talked."
"Oh, then why are you blushing? That young man didn’t look at you like nothing happened, could it be you were playing hard to get?"
"Mom," I whisper-yelled, feeling mortified.
"Okay, okay, I won’t tease you again," she said, but before we could take more steps, she continued. "Did you see Ryan? He said he was going to pick you up."
"Oh really?" I asked back, acting dumb. "I didn’t see him."
"Oh," Estelle mused. "Maybe you missed each other. He should be back soon."
"Yeah."
I had just spoken when I realised what that meant.
Ryan wasn’t home.
This was a good opportunity. I could finally sneak into his room and find the diary.
I turned towards Estelle and Joel.
"Mum, Dad, I want to rest for a bit. Can we catch up later?" I asked, yawning.
"Oh, okay, have some rest. We’ll catch up during dinner." Estelle said.
"Yes, Isabelle, you can go on," Joel added.
"Thank you."
I first went up to my room, waited for five minutes, and made my move.
I wasn’t going to wait for Ryan to destroy me. I was going to move first.
It was nearly 4:00pm, and the Quinn mansion was quieter around this time.
There were always some guards and staff moving in the background, but it was still quiet enough to make every sound feel louder than it should... like my footsteps, my breathing, and my heartbeat.
I paused at the corner of the hallway, pressing my back lightly against the wall as I listened.
I couldn’t hear anything.
No footsteps. No voices.
Good.
I needed to move fast. Even though Ryan wouldn’t expect me to come after him, it was best to make sure no one saw me.
I exhaled slowly and stepped forward.
Ryan’s room was at the far end of the east wing.
I stopped in front of his door, my fingers hovering over the handle. I grabbed and turned it.
It was locked.
Of course it was.
"Figures," I muttered under my breath.
For a second, I considered turning back. Maybe I should find where he kept his room key first; then I’ll strike again.
"No. You have to try," my subconscious told me.
This was insane. If I got caught.
No. I clenched my jaw. If I did nothing, I was already dead.
Slowly, I reached up, sliding a hairpin from my hair. My fingers trembled slightly as I bent it, adjusting the angle the way Nathan taught me some time ago.
At that time I didn’t even pay attention, so you can imagine my movements—reckless, improvised, desperate.
"Please work..." I whispered, but it didn’t... The pin slipped.
I cursed softly under my breath, picked it up, and tried again.
Focus. Think.
I adjusted the angle, pushed deeper, and turned it—It still didn’t work.
Should I just give up and find the key instead?
No, let’s try again... one last time.
This time I focused with all my brain cells, adjusting it, turning—Click.
I froze.
Then slowly, I carefully pushed the door open.
The room was dark.
Not pitch black—just dim, with the faint glow of the sun bleeding in through the curtains.
I slipped inside and shut the door behind me with a soft click.
I immediately felt it.
Ryan’s scent.
His scent lingered in the air—sandalwood, leather, something sharp beneath it. It made my stomach turn.
I forced myself to move. Not knowing where to begin.
The room was... immaculate. Everything was in place.
The bed was perfectly made. The desk was clear except for a laptop and a neatly arranged stack of documents. The shelves were aligned with military precision.
How can I search without leaving traces?
I swallowed and moved toward the desk, starting from the drawers.
Drawer one: nothing.
Drawer two: Documents. Contracts. Clean. Organised.
Drawer three—Locked.
I frowned. I crouched slightly, testing the handle again; it didn’t budge.
My eyes scanned the desk.
Think, Yvette.
Men like Ryan didn’t trust easily. Which meant he would hide something important far away.
He wouldn’t hide it close, but it would be somewhere he could watch.
My gaze moved to the closet doors. One door looked slightly misaligned. It was barely noticeable, but it was enough.
I approached it, parting the clothes and running my fingers along the back until I felt it—a faint groove.
I pressed. Nothing.
I pressed harder. Click. A hidden panel slid open.
My breath caught.
"Got you..." I whispered.
Inside, resting like a secret waiting to be uncovered, was the diary.
It looked smaller up close: leather-bound and worn at the edges with the lock broken.
My fingers hovered over it for a second before I picked it up.
This was Isabelle...
Her thoughts.
Her truth.
Her escape... Or her ruin.
I opened it.
The first page was filled with neat, delicate handwriting.
Ryan said it’s not the right time again today...
My chest tightened. I flipped another page.
I don’t think he understands. I’m suffocating here...
Another.
I saw her today. She looks exactly like me. It felt like staring at a version of myself that got to live...
If this works... if she takes my place... Maybe we can finally be free—
My breath hitched. She was talking about me. My fingers tightened around the page as I flipped faster, scanning—and then I froze.
I heard a sound.
There were footsteps outside. My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
No. No no no...
Someone had stopped behind the door. I snapped the diary shut, panic surging through me as I looked around wildly.
There was nowhere to hide.
Nowhere!
The handle moved.