**ISABELLA'S POV**

One week later, the mansion felt both like a sanctuary and a gilded cage.

I was finally home on strict bed rest, but the doctor had allowed me to sit up for short periods with support. Today, the bedroom had been transformed into a private styling suite. Racks of luxurious gowns lined one wall, fabric swatches and color palettes spread across the bed like a rainbow. Mateo's mother had sent a team of stylists and told me sternly before leaving:

"You are going to be a brand, my child. Let your outfit make headlines."

I have never made headlines before. And Brand?

Her words still echoed in my...