They Ruined Me

The grand ballroom hummed with the superficial chatter of the city's elite. Isabella, a living doll in her parents' meticulously crafted charade, stood stiffly by their side, her polite smile a practiced mask.

Another perfectly coiffed couple approached, and her father's grip on her arm tightened almost imperceptibly. "Your daughter is so beautiful," the woman gushed, pulling forward a smirking young man. Isabella's heart sank. Another suitor. Another dance with a stranger, under the scrutinizing eyes of a society that valued appearances above all else.

Just as her father began to promise her hand for a dance, the massive doors of the ballroom swung open with an ominous creak. A hush fell over the room, whispers dying on every lip. Leonardo Russo. The name echoed silently, a cold dread seeping into the opulent space. Isabella, lost in her own despair, was the only one who didn't immediately bow her head.

His gaze, sharp and predatory, locked onto hers from across the room. A shiver, both of fear and an unsettling curiosity, traced its way down her spine. Her father's frantic whisper, "Nod your goddamn head, girl!" shattered the moment, but the intensity of Russo's stare remained, a silent promise in the sudden, heavy silence.