Wrong Room, Wrong Groom: Now He Won't Let Me Go

For nearly three days, Isabella Brown had been locked inside the warehouse. Curled tightly in the corner, she shivered without pause, her frail body shaking from hunger, thirst, and the bitter chill that seemed to rise from the floor itself. A heavy haze clouded her thoughts, leaving her weak and half-dazed.

Throughout all that time, her stepfather never once appeared, and not even her own mother had brought her so much as a bite of food.

What tormented Isabella the most was wondering how Natalie Brown, her older sister, was doing...

She still could not understand how their mother could be so cruel, so utterly coldhearted, that for the sake of her half-brother's future, she would force her and Natalie to marry a pair of old men.

Earlier, Natalie had warned her sister not to agree no matter what happened, and she had even made plans to run away from home with Isabella in secret. But that very night, their stepfather found out.

All Isabella could do was watch in horror as Natalie was hurled hard against the wall by his brutal hands, while she herself was dragged away and locked inside this airless, lightless warehouse.

A biting chill rose from the damp concrete, creeping deep into her bones, yet Isabella could only think of Natalie—where she was, whether she was safe, and if their stepfather had already dragged her into a forced marriage.

Just as her heavy eyelids began to slip shut again, the warehouse door groaned open with a harsh scrape.

Summoning the last of her strength, Isabella forced her eyes wide, squinting into the harsh spill of light as a slender, achingly familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway.

"Bella!"

That voice—soft, urgent, unmistakable. It was Natalie.

Through her haze, Isabella watched Natalie rush forward without hesitation, dropping to her knees and wrapping her arms tightly around her frail, trembling body.

"Nat…" Isabella parted her cracked lips, but her throat was so parched that no real words came out. Tears spilled down her face before she could force a sound.

"Don't be scared. I'm okay." With reddened eyes, Natalie hurriedly brushed the tears from Isabella's cheeks, even though her own were glistening.

Before Isabella could even ask what had happened over the past few days, Natalie drew a breath and said, "Would you marry into the Evans family with me? The Evans family is incredibly rich. One of the sons is thirty-two, and the other is twenty-four. Even if there's no love in it, that still has to be better than being handed over to a couple of old men..."

Everyone in Ariotin knew that the Evans family stood at the very top, powerful and untouchable. No matter how hard Isabella tried to make sense of it, she still couldn't understand why a family like that would ever agree to let her and Natalie marry into their household.

Compared to the Evans family, Isabella's stepfather's little business barely even counted.

Natalie's words left Isabella reeling, her thoughts drifting