Isla’s POV
Sienna and I moved away from the courtyard, winding our way through the quiet pathways of the villa, until we found a secluded corner near a small stone bench under a canopy of wisteria. The petals fell lazily around us, purple and soft, and for a moment, it felt like the chaos of the last few days had been suspended.
I kept stealing glances at her. Was she going to say something? Was this about Isabella? About Zayne? My heart thumped with anticipation and anxiety.
“You wanted to talk to me about something?” I asked finally.
She shook her head, hands in her pockets, her expression unreadable.
I frowned. “No?”
“No,” she repeated, faintly exasperated.
I chewed my lip, unsure whether to push further. Then she finally spoke, softly, almost as if she were choosing her words
