NOVEL NEXT Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Two Worlds
"Hi, my name is Isabella," she said into her camera, the lens capturing her perfectly poised figure. "I'm also… well, quite rich." The camera panned to her luxurious surroundings—a sprawling mansion with marble floors that shimmered in the morning light, walls adorned with priceless art, and an infinity pool glistening under the sun.
"Every day," Isabella continued with a practiced smile, "I wake up, put on my luxurious branded clothes, and eat the most exquisite breakfast prepared by my amazing chef." She motioned to the dining table, where an array of dishes awaited her: Wagyu steak, golden pancakes flecked with edible gold, and fresh orange juice served in crystal glasses. "Quite the extravagance, huh?" She let out a light laugh, but her eyes betrayed a hint of emptiness.
Today, however, she felt restless. "I'll take my bicycle to school," she declared, ignoring the concerned glances from her maids.
"Young lady," one of the maids began, "the streets leading to that school… they're…" Her expression spoke volumes about her disdain for the poverty-stricken areas near the school. "Might I suggest taking the car?"
Isabella waved her off with a chuckle. "Come on, live a little!" She flashed a carefree smile, though her heart raced. Her decision wasn't just about adventure; it was about escaping—just for a moment—the gilded cage she lived in.
As Isabella arrived, she greeted her friends with her usual grace. They talked about school, weekend plans, and trivial gossip. It was all so mundane.
Then she heard it: the distinct, confident strides of Ethan Collins. She turned instinctively, her heart skipping a beat.
He walked through the hallways with purpose, his sharp jawline and broad shoulders commanding attention. In Isabella's eyes, the world seemed to slow. Her gaze followed the sway of his coat, the intensity in his eyes.
"Ethan," she called softly, almost testing the sound of his name on her lips. But he didn't hear her—or perhaps, he ignored her.
Instead, he stormed past her, heading straight for the clinic. Isabella's smile faltered, her confidence wavering.
"How is she? How's Lily?" Ethan's voice carried from the clinic's doorway, hitting Isabella like a gust of cold wind.
Jack, standing just outside, stopped Ethan in his tracks. "She's fine, man. Just take a breath."
Isabella stood frozen, her ears burning with every word. She watched as Ethan's expression softened—relief washing over his face at the mention of Lily. Lily, always Lily.
Her thoughts spiraled back to every moment Ethan had overlooked her.
At the club fair, when she had poured her heart into her promotional speech, Ethan's gaze had been elsewhere—on Lily.
On the field trip, when she had tried to strike up a conversation, Ethan had rushed to Lily's side the moment she tripped.
Even at lunch, when Isabella tried to sit near him, his focus was solely on Lily's stories and laughter.
It wasn't just jealousy—it was loneliness. Isabella felt invisible, like a shadow lingering on the edge of his light. The hurt swirled in her chest, threatening to spill over.
That evening, Isabella sat in her ornate bedroom, staring at her reflection. Her mother's voice broke the silence. "Hello, my princess! Mwah, mwah!"
Isabella laughed softly, "Hi, Mom. What is it?"
Her mother's excitement was palpable. "I've arranged a meeting for you—not a date, darling, just an opportunity to make a good impression. He's the son of a powerful business partner."
Isabella frowned. "Mom, I told you… I already like someone."
"Oh, sweetheart, you're too young to be so serious. Besides, think of the family! This could be an amazing opportunity."
Isabella sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Fine. But this isn't a date, right?"
"Of course not," her mother replied with a teasing lilt. "But he's quite handsome, I hear."
"Mom!" Isabella groaned, but a small laugh escaped her lips. After hanging up, she flopped onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.
Her mind wandered back to Ethan. His laugh, his intensity, the way he always seemed just out of reach. A pang of sadness settled in her chest as she wondered if he'd ever see her the way she saw him.
Two days later, Isabella sat in the backseat of her chauffeured car, dressed in a chic but understated outfit. Her mother's words echoed in her mind: "Just make a good impression."
"This isn't a date," she reminded herself. "It's… business."
The car pulled up to a five-star restaurant by the seaside. The sun cast a golden glow over the water, and the gentle crash of waves added to the serene atmosphere. Isabella stepped out, her heels clicking against the cobblestones as the hostess guided her to a table.
She sat down, pulling out her phone to distract herself. She wasn't nervous, she told herself. Not about this. Not when her thoughts were consumed by someone else.
A message from her mother popped up: Good luck! Don't forget to have fun. Who knows? This could be your future boyfriend!
Isabella rolled her eyes, starting to type a reply. "Mom, stop being ridiculous…"
"Hi," a voice interrupted, deep and steady. "It's very nice to meet you."
Isabella's fingers froze over her screen. Slowly, she looked up, her hair catching the light as it fell over her shoulders.
Her breath hitched.
Ethan.
The world seemed to tilt, her surroundings blurring as her gaze locked onto his. His expression mirrored her shock, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but no words came.
The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and a tension neither could have prepared for. Isabella's heart pounded, a mix of confusion, excitement, and dread coursing through her veins.
What is he doing here? she thought. And what about his identity?
But all she could manage was a single word, barely above a whisper: "Ethan?"
What is she doing here? Ethan's thoughts raced as he stood frozen, staring at Isabella. The elegant yet familiar figure seated at the table was the last person he had expected.
What the—what is going on? He took a sharp breath, forcing himself to focus. Breathe. Breathe. Slowly, he stepped forward and sat down across from her, his movements stiff and uncertain.
"Hi," Isabella greeted with a small chuckle, her voice laced with nervousness. "I didn't know you were the son of the richest man alive."
Ethan blinked, her words snapping him back to reality. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice clipped. "It's… not something I talk about."
She tilted her head, studying him. "So mysterious," she teased lightly, though her tone lacked its usual confidence.
Ethan's mind swirled. What does she think of this? He struggled to piece together the situation, unsure of what to say or do. The tension between them hung heavy, the unspoken questions multiplying with every passing second.