CHAPTER 32: CHAPTER 32 SICK

The morning light slipped quietly through the edges of the curtains, casting soft patterns on the walls of Isabella’s room. But the warmth that usually made her feel cozy and safe felt distant today... unreachable.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open, but they didn’t shine with their usual softness.

They were dull. Heavy. Haunted.

She hadn’t had that nightmares since last month.

Not since she came here.

Not since she found warmth in the kitchen, smiles from Clara, soft calls from Lina, and laughter with Jay... not since she had started baking, watching cartoons, hugging her plushies, and sleeping in a real bed without fear of hearing footsteps at midnight.

But last night...

That woman’s flawless skin. The memories. Her own scars.

It had cracked something open.

And all of it came pouring back—the shouting, the belt, the glass, the fire in her throat.

Now, Isabella lay in bed, curled tightly under her blanket like a trembling cocoon. Her bunny plushie was hugged tightly to her chest, wet from the tears that still clung to her lashes.

She didn’t move.

She didn’t even dare set her foot on the floor.

Her body was stiff, but it wasn’t pain holding her still—it was fear. The kind of fear that lingers even after the danger is gone. The kind that wraps itself around your limbs and whispers that if you move, it’ll all come back again.

She stayed like that for a long time.

Eyes open. Breathing slow.

Frozen.

She didn’t even realize how much time had passed. The house was quiet. Maybe the staff thought she was still sleeping. No one knocked. No one called.

And for the first time in a while, Isabella felt small again.

Alone.

Just a girl wrapped in warm blankets...

Hiding from ghosts that never really left.

***

Lina placed her teacup down gently, the soft clink echoing louder than expected in the quiet dining hall. Her elegant brows pinched together slightly, something rare for the always-composed woman.

"Where is Bella? She didn’t come downstairs?" she asked, her voice calm, but carrying a sharp note of concern beneath it.

The maid standing nearby lowered her head slightly in respect. "No, ma’am," she said carefully. "She hasn’t left her room this morning. Maybe... she’s still sleeping."

"Sleeping?" Lina repeated, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was already past ten. Isabella was usually up early, helping in the kitchen or sitting by the garden with a book in her lap, wearing her ridiculous bunny slippers.

This was unusual.

Very unusual.

Lina’s eyes narrowed just a fraction. "Has anyone checked?"

The maid hesitated, then shook her head. "No, ma’am. We didn’t want to disturb her."

Lina stood up slowly, brushing invisible dust off her pale blue dress. Her heels clicked softly against the marble as she turned toward the staircase.

"Prepare some warm tea with honey and bring it upstairs. I’ll check on her myself."

Something didn’t feel right.

And Lina Moretti always followed her instincts.

However her room seemed locked.

She knocked the door softly, then again, louder.

No one answered.

Her brows furrowed slightly. Isabella always answered. Even when she was sleepy or upset, she would at least hum or groan something from under the blanket.

Feeling uneasy, she quickly called the maid and asked for the spare key.

When the door finally opened, her usually calm expression cracked.

Her eyes widened as she stepped in.

Isabella was curled up in bed, buried under layers of blankets, her small body trembling. Her face was pale, her lips chapped, and sweat clung to her forehead like dew on winter glass. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her stomach as though trying to hold herself together.

The cheerful daughter-in-law who always greeted her with a smile...

What happened to her? she thought, her heart suddenly feeling tight.

She immediately called the maid forward, she said sharply. "Bring water, keep cold cloth on her head and stay here."

Even she herself stepped forward and touched Isabella’s forehead gently.

So hot.

She was really having a fever.

And yes within two months, her daughter-in-law had become healthy and soft, her cheeks fuller, arms no longer thin and bony. Just two months ago, Isabella was so skinny it scared her. She almost looked malnourished. Even her wrists used to look fragile like they would snap.

But now... after two months of good food and care... she was looking better.

Which made it more shocking to see her like this now burning up and shivering.

She turned immediately.

"Call our doctor. Not the public one—the private one. The one who works for the family. Tell him to come immediately."

Yes, they were a mafia family.

And yes, they had their own doctor because sometimes, secrets had to stay in the family.

And right now, Isabella was not just her daughter-in-law.

She was family.

Soon the doctor arrived with his usual black coat and calm expression. He quietly entered the room, carrying his medical bag. Without wasting time, he walked towards the bed and started checking Isabella’s pulse and temperature. He looked serious, his brows slightly furrowed as he placed the stethoscope gently on her chest.

Meanwhile, she stood near the bed, watching quietly.

Her eyes stayed on Isabella’s pale, sweating face, and a strange uneasiness filled her chest. Isabella was not the type to fall ill so suddenly. She always acted strong even when tired. Something didn’t feel right.

She turned to the maid who was folding a wet towel beside the bed.

"Did she eat something cold?" she asked, her voice calm but sharp. "Did she go somewhere? It’s too sudden for a normal fever."

The maid looked nervous for a second but answered honestly, her eyes lowered.

"Actually, Ma’am... Master took Mrs. Bella to the club late last night..."

She paused, and the room felt heavier.

"...But she didn’t eat anything cold."

The words hung in the air.

Her expression didn’t change much, but inside she felt something tighten.

Late night? Club? And she returned home like this?

Her gaze shifted slowly back to doctor.

"What happened to her Doctor Smith?" Lina asked softly, her voice calm but filled with quiet worry as she stood near the bed, watching Isabella’s pale face. The blanket had slipped a little from her shoulder, and she gently pulled it up, tucking it close.

The doctor, who had just finished checking her vitals, closed his stethoscope and looked at Lina with a serious but respectful expression.

"She’s running a mild fever," he said slowly. "But the cause isn’t infection. Her body is showing signs of fatigue, stress, and lack of proper nutrition. It’s possible her blood pressure dropped, and that led to this reaction."

Lina’s brows furrowed faintly. "But... she was fine yesterday. Laughing, walking around normally."

The doctor nodded. "Yes. But if her body was already weak from inside... even a little exertion is enough to knock her down like this."

The doctor nodded gently. "Yes, but sometimes the body breaks down suddenly, even if it looks fine on the outside. She needs full rest now. I’ve given her medication. She’ll recover by morning if we’re careful."

Lina gave a slow nod and turned her eyes toward Isabella again.

Isabella was curled up in the blanket, her face covered in sweat, her lips slightly dry. Her arms were trembling even under the covers.

Lina stepped forward quietly and gently brushed Isabella’s forehead. Her skin was burning with fever.

She stayed like that for a moment, just watching.

It hurt to see her like this.

Because within just two months, this same girl who had arrived so thin, so malnourished and silent, had finally started looking healthy. Her cheeks had softened, her eyes were brighter, and she had even started to smile more freely in the house.

But today... seeing her like this, trembling and sick, her chest ached.

Lina’s hand slowly curled into a soft fist beside her.

She didn’t say much more. She turned to the maid and said in a clear voice, "Stay with her. Wipe her sweat. Don’t let her get up, and call me if her condition changes."

The maid nodded quickly and sat beside Isabella with the towel.

Lina stood there for one last moment.

And then turned silently... walking out of the room.

She didn’t show it, but her heart was heavy.

And she already knew who she was going to speak with next.

she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed his number.

He didn’t even get a chance to speak.

"Leave your meeting and come home now." Her voice was calm, cold and firm.

She didn’t give him a reason.

**

In the tall glass meeting room of the Moretti Group’s downtown building, Leonardo sat at the head of the table, his sharp suit perfectly pressed, his fingers tapping lightly against a crystal pen. Around him sat department heads, investors, and board members...all focused, all speaking in careful tones.

His eyes were fixed on the large screen displaying graphs and reports. He looked calm, collected, powerful as always.

Until his phone buzzed silently on the table.

"Mother"

He paused for just a second. She never called during his work hours.

He answered quietly, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Ma?"

There was no greeting.

Only one sentence.

"Leave your meeting and come home now."

Leonardo’s brows furrowed. "What? Is something—"

Click.

She had already hung up, he stared at the screen, blinking.

She didn’t sound panicked. She didn’t sound angry but she didn’t explain either and that silence, that commanding tone without any reason... made his heart skip.

He stood up slowly.

"Continue without me," he said, his voice cold.

Everyone in the room fell silent. His assistant looked up from the tablet, surprised. "Sir—should I—?"

"Clear the rest of my schedule."

He buttoned his coat and walked out of the room without another word.