It had been a year since Isabella Moore's world had shattered. A year since she had buried her father, a man who had meant everything to her, and a year since the man she had trusted most betrayed her in ways she couldn't yet fully understand. Her heart had broken that night—the night everything was stripped from her—but her soul had shattered long before that.

The memory of his betrayal clung to her like a second skin. Sebastian Blackwood. She had loved him with every inch of her being, and he had destroyed her without a second thought.

Now, standing in front of the decaying mansion that had once been the heart of her world, Isabella felt a mix of dread and something far more dangerous—a pull. Her hands trembled as they gripped the iron gate, the familiar scent of dust and age filling the air. The mansion loomed like a ghost, a reminder of the past she couldn’t escape.

Her father's estate had been left to her after his death, a place she hadn't set foot in since that night. The mansion was meant to be a sanctuary, a refuge, but it had become a prison of memories—memories of everything she had lost.

And then there was him.

Sebastian had been a part of this place—part of her life, part of her. He had been the reason she felt alive, the reason her heart beat with intensity. But now, his name was just another word for agony. Still, there was something about this place, something about him, that called her back.

*Why are you here?* she asked herself, stepping slowly into the overgrown garden. *You should turn around and leave.* But she didn’t. She had come for a reason.

The wind whispered through the branches of the trees as she made her way to the front door. The mansion had been untouched for so long, its grand doors now chipped and faded, as if time had taken its toll on everything. But even so, the house held a certain kind of power. It still had the ability to make her feel small, insignificant, like she didn’t belong anywhere else but here.

The door creaked open as she stepped across the threshold, the dim light from outside barely touching the darkened rooms. Silence enveloped her, the kind of silence that pressed down on her chest and made her feel as though she might suffocate.

She had thought she could leave it all behind. She had thought she could move on. But the moment her fingers brushed the cold, wrought-iron banister of the staircase, memories flooded her mind. Sebastian's smile. His touch. His words.

*"I’ll never hurt you, Isabella,"* he had promised her. *"We belong together. Forever."*

Her heart twisted in her chest as she climbed the stairs. The higher she went, the more the darkness of the house seemed to close in around her. She reached the second floor and paused, her breath catching in her throat. There, at the end of the hallway, was the door—the room she had once shared with him. The place where they had whispered secrets, shared stolen kisses, and built a future in their minds.

But that was before everything had fallen apart.

She hesitated, a chill creeping up her spine. And then, from the shadows of the room, she heard it—a sound. A soft, deliberate footstep.

Isabella froze. *No. It can’t be him.*

The footsteps grew louder, closer, until she could feel the weight of his presence behind her. Slowly, she turned.

There, standing in the doorway, was the last person she ever thought she would see again.

Sebastian.

He was taller than she remembered, his dark hair longer, his features sharper, but his eyes—the same eyes that had once held the power to make her forget the world—were the same.

"Isabella," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "I knew you would come back to me."

Every part of her screamed at her to run, to escape. But she couldn't. Not with him standing there. Not with the memories flooding back.

Her breath hitched. "Why did you do it?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix"Why did you do it?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation. "Why did you leave me?"

Sebastian’s expression softened for the briefest moment, a flicker of something that could have been regret. "I didn’t leave you, Isabella. I’ve never left you."

She wanted to scream, to shove him away and never look back. But the way he stood there, the way he spoke, it was like he had always known she would come back to him.

The air between them crackled with tension, with everything they had lost, with everything they might still have.

"I promised you once," he said, his voice rough, "that I would never leave. That I would always come back to you."

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. The darkness between them was still there, as heavy and as suffocating as ever.

And just like that, Isabella knew. She couldn’t escape him. She couldn’t escape the shadows of desire that still bound her to him.