CHAPTER 13: The First Crack

Victor Blackwood didn't sleep much.

He didn't need to—not when his mind was consumed by one question:

Who is Isabella Lin really?

The morning after their silent visit to St. Helene's, Markus delivered a file to Victor's office. It wasn't thick—most of Isabella's records had been deliberately wiped—but Victor didn't need quantity.

He needed truth.

And truth, apparently, came in fragments.

Full marks on national practice exams with no official school listed.

Unregistered attendance at elite research summits.

Security footage from a burned-out underground medical camp—where a hooded figure treated soldiers using untraceable compounds.

Every breadcrumb led to one conclusion:

Isabella wasn't just intelligent. She was exceptional.

And she was hiding it.

Later that day, he showed up again—unannounced, of course.

Clarissa barely managed a flustered "Victor!" before he waved her off.

"I'm here for Isabella."

Edward narrowed his eyes. "She's in the conservatory."

Victor nodded once and left without waiting for permission.

In the glass-paneled conservatory, Isabella knelt between pots of rare hybrid herbs, hands gloved and precise. The golden morning light filtered through the leaves, casting leafy shadows across her profile.

She didn't flinch when he appeared behind her.

"You don't like ringing bells, do you?" she said calmly.

"They slow me down," he replied.

She continued trimming a leaf, not bothering to turn.

Victor crouched beside her. "I know who you are."

Her hand paused mid-cut.

"I'm Isabella Lin," she said flatly.

"I meant," Victor said slowly, "the other you. The one they call the Medicine Ghost."

Now she did turn. And her expression was unreadable.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Victor held up a photo—grainy, taken from the corner of a lab's CCTV feed. A woman in a white coat, her back turned, working over a collapsed soldier.

"Your posture. Your hands. The way you tilt your head when you examine something." He met her gaze. "It's you."

She stared at the photo.

Then met his eyes again.

"Are you here to threaten me?"

Victor's lips curled. "No. I'm impressed."

"Then stop digging."

He leaned closer, voice low. "I can't."

She stood and turned away, her movements smooth but clipped. "Curiosity is a dangerous habit, Mr. Blackwood."

"So is hiding brilliance," he replied.

Isabella said nothing.

But something inside her twisted.

He knew.

He had seen her.

Not just the mask she wore in society—but a glimpse of the woman behind it. The one no one else was supposed to see.

That night, as she stood on the balcony watching the moonlight ripple over the estate's marble fountain, her phone buzzed.

[AshenWolf]: "If I found out you were someone extraordinary, would you hate me for it?"

She stared at the message.

Then typed—

[SkyeEcho]: "Depends on whether you told me who you really were, first."

The reply took a minute.

[AshenWolf]: "Fair move. Maybe I will. When the time is right."

She stared out at the sky.

And whispered to herself, "Maybe I already know."

Next Chapter Teaser: Victor invites Isabella to an exclusive gala—one he believes will force her into a spotlight she can't avoid. But Isabella has a plan of her own. And it begins with saying no.