Later that day, after leaving Rose's house, Isabella took a detour to the one place that had always felt like home—the orphanage. The sun had begun to dip, casting long golden shadows across the faded sign that read: St. Mercy Home for Children. The familiar creak of the gate and the faint scent of baked bread brought back a wave of nostalgia.
"Mother Grace?" Isabella called out as she stepped into the small office.
The elderly woman looked up from her desk, her warm eyes clouded with sadness. "Isabella, my dear. Sit down. We need to talk."
Isabella's heart thumped. "Is everything okay?"
"No," Mother Grace said softly. "The home has been sold. We've been struggling for years, and… the government cut our support again. We've got just one week to vacate."
Isabella froze. "What? One week? But... where am I supposed to go?"
The silence felt heavier than anything she'd ever heard. Mother Grace looked away, clearly heartbroken. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I wish there was something more I could do."
Isabella didn't remember how she got out of that office or how long she sat under the mango tree outside, tears quietly streaming down her cheeks. The home had been her anchor since she was twelve. And now, it too was slipping away.
---
The next morning at SwiftX Courier Services
Lucas was sorting curtain hooks into a toolbox when Isabella arrived. Her face was pale, her eyes puffy, and there was a tired heaviness in her posture.
Lucas looked up and frowned. "You okay? You look like you didn't sleep."
She shook her head. "Lucas... I have seven days."
He tilted his head. "Seven days? For what?"
"To leave the orphanage," she murmured, sitting down beside the tool cabinet. "The place was sold. Mother Grace told me yesterday."
Lucas's expression softened immediately. "What? Damn... I'm really sorry."
"It's okay. I mean... I guess I always knew it might happen someday. We've been struggling to stay afloat for years."
He crouched down beside her. "How long have you lived there?"
Isabella blinked back more tears. "Since I was twelve."
"What happened? If you don't mind me asking."
She looked away for a moment, then back at him. "We were coming back from my cousin's wedding. It was raining so badly that night... and the truck came out of nowhere. My dad swerved, but it was too late."
Lucas swallowed. "They didn't make it?"
She shook her head. "Not even the driver. I remember waking up in the hospital with tubes in me, asking for my parents. That was the last day I saw them."
Lucas sat beside her, silent for a beat. "God… Isabella, I had no idea."
She offered a sad smile. "It's okay. The orphanage became home. Mother Grace did her best. But now... even that's gone."
He hesitated, then said gently, "If things get bad—really bad—you can come stay with me for a while. I've got a spare room. No weirdness. Just until you figure things out."
She blinked, touched. "Lucas, I can't—"
"You can. And you will. No friend of mine is sleeping on the streets."
Later that day – Rose's House (Day 3)
Rose wasn't home, but her staff let them in.
Lucas unpacked a box of throw pillows. "So... what's the plan today, boss?"
Isabella smirked. "Add color to the reading nook, hang the wall art, test curtain light filters, and maybe steal some of Rose's coconut cookies if she left any."
Lucas grinned. "Fair warning, I bite anyone who touches my sugar stash."
As they worked, music played softly from Isabella's phone—an old school R&B playlist that made the space feel warmer. Lucas climbed the step ladder to adjust the curtain rods while Isabella fluffed a navy blue pillow.
"Honestly," Lucas said from above, "you've got an eye for this stuff. You ever think of doing interior design full-time?"
"I'd love to," she replied. "Maybe one day. When I stop juggling deliveries and dodging insane billionaire tantrums."
They both laughed.
Lucas grinned down at her. "You're strong, you know that? Like... tougher than you let on."
She looked up at him, surprised. "Where's this coming from?"
He shrugged. "You just... went through all that, and still walk around like everything's fine. I think that's brave."
Isabella smiled, then rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mr. Deep. Back to work before I start crying again."
A few minutes later, the door swung open.
Maxon.
His eyes lit up. "Finally. She's not home."
Lucas muttered, "And the devil makes his entrance."
Maxon ignored him and walked straight into the living room, glancing around. "So this is what you call redecorating? Looks like a furniture store threw up."
Isabella narrowed her eyes. "What do you want, Maxon?"
"To make sure my project doesn't ruin what's left of my relationship."
"By tearing everything apart?" Lucas said, already stepping forward.
Maxon smirked and casually knocked a vase off the table. It crashed to the floor.
"Oops."
Isabella stepped in front of him. "Stop it."
He ignored her and began yanking down the sample curtain. "Until you get her back for me, I'll keep ruining this. Every. Single. Day."
"That's childish!" she snapped. "You can't keep punishing us because you messed up."
Maxon turned to her, eyes cold. "I'm punishing the ones who let me mess up. Seven days. Make her forgive me, or I'll destroy this whole contract. And you'll both be out of work."
Isabella stared at him, fury burning in her chest. "You act like the world owes you forgiveness. Newsflash—apologies are supposed to be honest, not bought or bullied."
Maxon stepped closer, inches from her face. "You don't get to lecture me. Fix it. Or I swear, you'll regret ever crossing me."
He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Silence.
Lucas exhaled. "That guy needs therapy. And cuffs."
They both looked around the mess—the pillows scattered, the curtain rod bent, a broken vase on the floor.
Isabella knelt down, picking up the glass. "Come on. Rose can't see this. Let's fix it.
An hour later, the space looked decent again. Lucas wiped his forehead with a cloth. "Think she'll notice?"
"Only if she looks too closely," Isabella muttered, placing the last pillow in its corner.
They packed up slowly, shoulders
aching and nerves frayed.
As they stepped outside, Isabella glanced at Lucas. "Day three down."
Lucas nodded grimly. "Four to go."