Soft yellow light filled the private medical suite inside the De La Cruz mansion, reflecting polished marble floors and stainless steel instruments.
Machines hummed quietly beside the bed.
Diego lay against the pillows, shirtless except for the bandages wrapped around his ribs and shoulder. Every breath still hurt, but at least he was alive.
Alive because of her.
A doctor finished checking the stitches on his side and nodded with approval.
"You're lucky," the man said. "Another hour in that warehouse and infection would have killed you."
Diego gave a weak smile.
Lucky wasn't the word he would have chosen.
After the doctor left, the room fell silent again.
A guard stood outside the door. Another at the end of the hallway.
Mateo De La Cruz didn't take risks with important assets. Diego closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling at him.
Then the door creaked open.
His eyes snapped open instantly.
A slender figure slipped inside and quietly locked the door behind her.
Diego blinked in disbelief. "Isabella?"
She turned toward him, finger pressed to her lips.
"Shh."
Her dark hair was tied back, and she wore black clothes that made her blend into the shadows of the room.
"You're not supposed to be here," Diego whispered.
Her lips curved slightly.
"I've never been good at following orders."
She walked closer, stopping beside the bed.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then she studied his bandages.
"You look terrible," she said.
Diego chuckled weakly.
"I was kidnapped and tortured."
"Still terrible."
He laughed again, then winced from the pain.
Isabella grabbed a chair and sat beside him.
"My father thinks you're resting," she said quietly.
"He is watching everything I do."
Diego frowned.
"Then why come here?"
Her eyes met his.
"Because I wanted to see if you were alive."
A strange warmth filled his chest.
"I'm alive," he said softly.
She leaned back in the chair.
"Good."
They sat there talking for nearly an hour.
About nothing and everything.
She teased him about how weak he looked.
He told her Bruce would never believe this story.
For the first time since the kidnapping, Diego actually laughed.
When footsteps echoed outside the hallway, Isabella stood quickly.
"I have to go."
She slipped toward the door.
Before leaving, she looked back at him once more.
"Don't die tonight," she said.
Diego smirked. "I'll try."
Then she disappeared.
The next night she returned again.
This time Diego was sitting up in bed.
"You came back," he said.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Surprised?"
"A little."
She tossed him a chocolate bar.
"Stole it from the kitchen."
Diego caught it, grinning like a kid.
"Best nurse ever."
For two nights the same secret ritual repeated.
When the mansion fell asleep, Isabella would sneak into his room.
Sometimes they talked, sometimes they laughed.
Once she challenged him to a stupid card game she found in the room.
He lost badly. "You cheat," he accused.
"I'm just smarter," she replied.
For a few hours every night, the cartel world disappeared.
No guns, no blood, no war and no obligations.
Just two people forgetting the dangerous world outside the door.
But on the second night, something changed.
Isabella grew quieter.
Diego noticed immediately. "What's wrong?"
She didn't answer at first.
Instead she stared at the window. "My engagement lunch is tomorrow."
Diego froze.
"Engagement?"
Her voice was calm.
"My father agreed to an alliance with Don Demelo."
His stomach dropped. "And?"
She looked at him. "I'm marrying his son."
The words felt like a knife sliding slowly into Diego's chest.
"Andrew Demelo," she said.
"Apparently he's always admired me."
Diego forced a smile.
"That's… great."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You're a terrible liar."
He looked away.
"Well what do you want me to say?"
Silence filled the room.
Finally Diego sighed.
"You're the daughter of the most powerful cartel leader in Mexico."
"And I'm…"
He laughed bitterly.
"A broke intern with hospital debt."
She watched him carefully.
"You changed my perception about life," she said quietly.
"You're not a nobody."
He shook his head.
"You risked everything for me."
"And fighting for you would be like signing my own death sentence."
Her jaw tightened slightly.
"So you're giving up."
Diego met her gaze. "I'm being realistic."
Neither of them spoke again after that.
A few minutes later she stood.
"I should go."
At the door she paused.
"Tomorrow at lunch," she said quietly.
"That's when they will announce it."
Then she left.
The next morning Diego was discharged from the medical room.
A doctor handed him pain medication.
"You should still rest," the man warned.
But Diego had already made up his mind.
He walked out of the mansion without telling anyone.
For the first time in days, he breathed the outside air.
Freedom but caged in his heart
His first stop was the hospital.
His mother was sleeping peacefully when he arrived.
Bruce was sitting beside the bed.
When Bruce saw him, his eyes widened.
"Diego?!"
They hugged quickly. "You disappeared for days!" Bruce said.
"I thought you were dead!"
"Long story."
Diego checked on his mother for a while before leaving again. He told Bruce he wanted to go home and freshen up then he will call him for them to meet at the usual spot, the restaurant.
His mind felt heavy on his way home.
Every thought led back to Isabella.
Her laugh, the way her eyes sparkle, and her voice saying she was getting engaged.
Across the city, Sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating Isabella's bedroom in soft warmth that felt like mockery. The house buzzed with activity: staff rushing, florists adjusting arrangements, guards stationed at every entrance.
Today was her engagement lunch.
Maids fastened diamond earrings at her ears and smoothed a cream silk gown over her body. The fabric fit perfectly, elegant enough to make any cartel daughter look like royalty. Diamonds rested against her chest. Her hair fell in soft waves down her back.
"Señorita Isabella," one maid said gently, "you look beautiful."
Beautiful.
The word followed her everywhere. It had nothing to do with who she was—only what she represented. A bargaining piece in alliances forged with blood and money.
Andrew Demelo, the heir to the Bonga Cartel, the man her father chose for her, her fiance was already at the mansion.
He arrived very early to supervise everything.
Five-star catering, imported wine, musicians flew in from Spain. He knew how to impress Mateo De La Cruz, Isabella's father.
And how to display ownership.
As Isabella descended the staircase, her heels clicking softly, she got a glimpse at the beauty of the atmosphere—and felt nothing but pity for the man who believed effort could buy affection, not to talk of love.
As she arrived downstairs she caught sight of Andrew standing near the table. Tall, elegant and well-dressed. Handsome in a polished and predictable way. He smiled when he saw her—the kind of smile meant to reassure both families that everything was perfectly under control. Deep inside he knew this was just one sided.
She took her seat beside him.
Mateo De La Cruz sat at the head of the table, calm and unreadable. If only a few knew what lived beneath that composure.
Andrew leaned closer. "Are you okay?"
She nodded automatically.
The ceremony began. Speeches followed. People laughed and Applause were made. The fathers spoke of marriage dates and expansion deals—They were practically spoken of like commodities to be acquired.
Isabella's chest tightened.
She felt fed up.
Andrew rose, lifting his glass. "I'm honored to be joining the De La Cruz family. Isabella means everything to me, and I promise to protect her and cherish her—"
Isabella stood.
The room froze.
Forks hovered midair while Voices died.
"Isabella?" Andrew asked, with confusion flickering across his face.
Her hands trembled—but her voice didn't.
"I'm sorry."
Silence exploded through the room.
Mateo's eyes darkened slowly.
Guests shifted uncomfortably with their eyes wide open, in shock.
Andrew stared at her, confused and humiliated.
"What do you mean?" he asked quietly.
Isabella looked at both families.
Then she said the one truth she could not bury.
"I won't marry you."
Gasps filled the room.
Andrew's jaw tightened. Mateo stood slowly with anger.
The air in the room turned ice cold.
"You will sit down," Mateo said quietly.
Isabella didn't move.
"No."
The word echoed like a gunshot. Mateo's fury flashed openly now.
"You embarrass this family for what reason?"
She met his gaze, "For my life."
Andrew's pride snapped. "So there is someone else."
The room turned toward Isabella again.
Mateo's voice dropped dangerously low.
"Is that true?"
She didn't answer. That was enough.
Mateo slammed his hand against the table.
"THIS LUNCH IS OVER."