Good Morning, New Day
But the moment our families started talking about our engagement, he vanished.
For an entire year, he ghosted me.
He blocked me on everything. His company security had a standing order: no solicitors, and absolutely no Arabella Fairchild. If I so much as appeared in his line of sight, he would turn on his heel and walk away.
Eventually, even his friends couldn't stand it anymore. One of them, Leo, arranged for me to see him.
But when I arrived, Charles’s cold voice sliced through the crack in the private room door.
"She's just a little plaything who comes running whenever I snap my fingers."
"No ambition, no personality… Being engaged to her would be beneath me."
1
My hand froze on the doorknob. I couldn't bring myself to push it open.
Leo, standing behind me, quickly covered my ears.
"Bella, don't listen to him. He's drunk, he doesn't know what he's saying!"
"I'll go give him a piece of my mind!"
He made a move to shove the door open, but I grabbed his sleeve and shook my head.
All this time, all I’d wanted was an answer. Why was he so violently opposed to our engagement? He’d made it a public spectacle, the talk of our entire social circle.
I had looked up to him as my protector, my big brother, for seventeen years.
But he wasn't my real brother.
We both had to get married eventually. Why couldn't it be me?
Now, I finally had my answer.
It wasn't that I wasn't good enough, or pretty enough.
It was that he had only ever seen me as a pet. A little creature he'd raised from childhood.
Something to amuse him? To pass the time?
Or maybe just something pretty to have around.
Leo dabbed at my tears with a handkerchief, muttering, "Damn it, Carter and the guys shouldn't have… this was a terrible idea…"
"It's okay, Leo."
I took a deep, shaky breath.
"Can you just take me home? I don't want to see him anymore."
"Yeah, of course…"
Just as we turned to leave, the door swung open from the inside.
We froze, staring at Carter, who was standing there, equally surprised. He didn't know what had just happened. He just grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. The whole point of this dinner was for them to convince Charles to make up with me.
Carter sat me down in the chair directly across from Charles.
"Come on, man," Carter said. "Even if you're fighting with your family, you can't take it out on Bella."
"We've all known her since we were kids. Just talk to her. Don't let your pride cause some stupid misunderstanding."
Charles hadn't looked up once since I entered the room.
But the veins on the back of the hand gripping his glass were stark and white.
Leo followed me in, shaking his head and trying to signal to Carter to shut up.
Before Leo could pull me away, Charles finally spoke. His voice was low and tight. "Arabella, why can't you ever just listen?"
"Didn't I tell you we shouldn't see each other until my grandfather and my parents change their minds?"
"Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?"
I stared at my lap, the words lodged in my throat.
The air in the room was thick with tension. The last time I'd seen him this angry was when one of his college friends—a guy he actually liked—had asked me out.
Leo sighed and came over, gently stroking my hair. He then herded the other guys out of the room, leaving Charles and me alone.
2
Charles threw back a mouthful of whiskey, his frustration palpable.
"Bella, can't you have some self-respect?"
"I told you, I'm not interested in you. I have never, not once, looked at you as a woman."
"Instead of clinging to me all the time, why don't you do something to improve yourself?"
"All you ever do is orbit around men…"
"Are you that pathetic?"
"When I take over the company for real, I'll be traveling constantly for meetings. I can't just drag you along with me everywhere."
I felt like I'd been plunged into an icy sea. A cold numbness spread through me, stealing the strength from my limbs, the words from my mouth.
So this is how he saw me. After all these years.
"So just be a good girl and stay away from me. The old man will probably give up on this engagement idea soon enough."
"I understand," I whispered.
"And you'll stop bothering Leo and the others to track me down?"
"I'll stop."
A slideshow of my life flashed through my mind.
I used to cherish those memories like precious jewels.
Now, I saw how ridiculous I’d been.
I had ignored how his patience with me had worn thinner and thinner since high school.
I had ignored the undisguised disdain in his eyes when he looked at my clothes, my style.
I had ignored the first thing he said when he found out his friend had asked me out: "Someone actually likes her?"
…
I lifted my head and looked at him, my gaze clear and steady. "Charles. Thank you for saving me when I was a little girl."
"I'll learn my lesson now. I promise, I will never bother you again."
With that, I stood up and walked out, and I didn't look back.
3
I flipped on the lights in the villa.
As always, it was empty. Silent.
My parents were perpetually away, and my grandfather lived a quiet life of self-cultivation in the mountains.
Charles's mom once told me that from the day I was born, I was raised by a single nanny.
When I was three, the nanny went out for groceries and forgot to close the front door.
I wandered out of the house and fell in the middle of the road.
Charles, who was playing in his yard next door, heard my crying and carried me back to his house.
For the next fifteen years, I grew up trailing behind him.
I followed him to the same elementary school, the same middle school, even the same university.
When I was bullied for being quiet and withdrawn, Charles was the one who stood up for me. He taught me how to protect myself.
When I thought about it, Charles had been in my life more than my own parents.
I depended on him too much.
So when he first started avoiding me, I panicked. I searched for him everywhere, feeling like my entire world had become a terrifying, empty void.
A year isn't a long time.
But it was harder than the fifteen years that came before it.
I sat at my computer, staring blankly at the acceptance email for the foreign exchange program.
My therapist said a change of scenery would help. New hobbies to distract me.
I had wanted to tell Charles…
A bitter laugh escaped me.
He was probably dying for me to get as far away as possible.
When I left, I only sent a text to my parents. Not that they would notice, anyway.
…
Landing in Italy, I fumbled my way through the paperwork and renting an apartment. It wasn't as hard as I'd imagined.
While waiting for the semester to start, I traveled, exploring nearby cities.
Just as my therapist had said, getting away really did change my perspective.
And my habits.
After being pickpocketed three times and harassed more times than I could count, I decided to learn Krav Maga.
There was no one to protect me here. I had to learn to protect myself.
4
Two months into the semester in Italy, I got a sudden call from Leo.
"Bella! You went to Italy? Why didn't you tell us? We only found out because we ran into one of your classmates."
"Yeah, I just wanted a change of scenery, clear my head. I'll be back in a few months, don't worry."
"So how are you doing? Is your place safe?"
"Everything's great. It's perfectly safe."
"Good, good. Hey, maybe you should give your brother… uh, Charles… a call? He knows some people over there."
"No, that's okay. I'm fine on my own. No need to bother anyone."
"Alright then. Well, if you need anything, call me or… uh… him."
Back in the Sterling Corporation office, Leo waited until he heard the click on the other end before hanging up.
"She's got some nerve," Charles muttered, flicking a lighter open and closed, his face a dark thundercloud.
"Dude, you were the one who told her to get lost," Leo said, sprawling lazily on the sofa and glancing at a copy of Arabella's exchange application.
"Telling her to get lost doesn't mean she can't send a text or make a phone call."
"Oh, for God's sake, Charles, check your own block list. You were the one who said you had to make it look convincing and blocked her on everything. How was she supposed to tell you?"
"If I were her, I wouldn't bother with you either," Leo grumbled, rolling his eyes.
He was Charles's childhood friend and had watched Arabella grow up too. He knew, more or less, about the situation with her family. Parents who were never there, a kid who barely spoke to anyone but clung to Charles like a lifeline.
But Charles didn't have romantic feelings for her. Now that she was far away, he was clearly worried sick, but too damn proud to admit it.
What a mess.
Let them sort out their own drama, he thought.
After Leo left, Charles rubbed his temples. There was a knot of irritation in his chest that he couldn't loosen. It was even worse than the time he’d discovered her art studio was filled with dozens of portraits of him.
The two family patriarchs were still pressuring them to get engaged.
Bella was just a junior in college. A kid who’d never even been on a date. What did she know about any of this?
Charles scrolled through his phone. After a long hesitation, he unblocked the contact labeled "Little Sister."
Then he buzzed his secretary, Lina.
"Mr. Sterling, you wanted to see me."
"Bella went to Italy by herself."
A flicker of a triumphant smile crossed Lina's lips before she quickly suppressed it.
"That just proves that my 'tough love' approach worked," she said smoothly. "Miss Fairchild has been without guidance her whole life. No one ever corrected her when she was wrong."
"She's a junior in college and her world still revolves around you. What kind of future can she have like that?"
"With girls like her, who have no sense of self, you have to use harsh words. Otherwise, she'll never learn to stand on her own two feet."
Lina smiled sweetly. "Besides, her going abroad doesn't necessarily mean she's making progress. She could just be copying a scene from a romance novel, playing hard to get."
"I'm a woman, too. I know all about these little games."
"To cure her of this… dependency, you have to maintain your distance."
Charles looked thoughtful. "But she's never been anywhere far on her own…"
"Mr. Sterling, she's a college junior. She's not a child. I was younger than her when I went off to college in a strange city. It's not that hard. Girls don't need to be coddled so much."
On second thought, she had a point.
Maybe Bella had just seen so few men in her life that she’d mistaken her sibling-like affection for him for romantic love.
It was probably for the best to let her fend for herself for a while.
He told Lina to cancel the plane ticket to Italy he had just booked and turned his attention back to his work.
5
Bang. Bang. Bang.
"Perfetto!"
I nodded to the instructor, set down the M1 rifle, and rubbed my wrists. My marksmanship was getting better.
I packed up my things in silence, trying to clear my head. I had my combat class this afternoon and needed to get home early tonight. Otherwise, I’d run into that obnoxious neighbor again.
Just as I reached the door, a tall Asian man walked toward me. I kept my head down, moving to the side to let him pass.
But he stopped directly in front of me.
"Excuse me, are you Miss Arabella Fairchild?" he asked in fluent, unaccented English.
"Yes, and you are…?" I looked up, curious.
The man before me was dressed in a bespoke suit, easily six-foot-three, and radiated an aura of command. But the moment our eyes met, that intimidating pressure vanished.
His eyes were a deep, startling blue.
"My name is Dominic Moretti. I'm a friend of Charles's."
"Oh… hello."
"Charles told me you were studying here alone. He was worried, so he asked me to look out for you."
"The apartment you're in isn't the safest. I've arranged another place for you. Would you like to move?"
"You can call him and confirm, if you like."
Dominic gestured for me to follow him, and we sat down at the café next door. He took out his phone and dialed.
After a brief exchange, he handed the phone to me with a gentlemanly grace.
"Bella."
"Hi."
"Dominic is from the Moretti family. We have some business dealings. He'll arrange a place for you to stay. You can ask him for help with anything you need."
I took a steadying breath. Hearing that familiar voice felt like stepping back in time, to before he started avoiding me.
Maybe it was the time, or the distance, or maybe the year of withdrawal had finally worked.
I wasn't as heartbroken as I thought I'd be.
"Okay, I understand. Thank you."
There was a slight pause on the other end. "But don't be a leech and latch onto him. Learn to be independent. Show some progress, you understand?"
"I understand."
After hanging up, I returned the phone to Dominic with both hands.
Then, I obediently followed him to his car.
Since they were business partners, Charles must have already offered Dominic something in return for this favor. For my own safety in a foreign country, I wasn't going to be stubborn.
6
In the car, Dominic made a call and arranged for someone to pack up my things. Then, he took me out for a proper Italian dinner.
An hour later, the driver pulled the car through the gates of a sprawling estate.
"Miss Fairchild, after you."
"Thank you, Mr. Moretti."
As I stepped out of the car, I saw a butler and several maids waiting for us.
Dominic gestured for me to follow him inside.
"You don't have to call me Mr. Moretti. You were seven years old the last time I saw you, at the Sterling's house."
I looked up at him, puzzled.
"You and Charles were playing hide-and-seek. You ran right into my leg and fell down and started crying."
Dominic remembered it vividly. He'd been very struck by her. He and his father were visiting the Sterlings. The moment they walked in the door, a little white puffball had collided with him.
Most kids that age would have wailed. But little Arabella just sat there on the floor, rubbing her nose, fat tears rolling silently down her cheeks. Before he could even say anything, the little puffball wiped her own tears, whispered to herself, "Bella's okay, be good," and then scrambled up and ran off.
Combined with the file his assistant had given him this morning…
She probably cried because no one was there to comfort her.
Charles was just a nine-year-old kid himself, and the Sterlings were too busy to pay much attention to the neighbor's child.
At the time, Dominic had thought to himself, If no one wants this kid, I should just take her back with me.
He never imagined that over a decade later, that childhood whim would actually come true.
7
We made our way to the second floor.
At the top of the stairs, a door to the right was open. Inside, a man and two maids were unpacking my luggage.
The man saw us and came out to greet us. "Mr. Moretti, Miss Fairchild."
"Sir, I thought we were taking her to the south-side flat. Why the change to your estate?"
Hearing this, I looked at Dominic as well.
The tall man rubbed his nose. "Oh, my cousin is coming to stay there for a while. I had to put Miss Fairchild here for the time being."
"Ah, I see."
…
The days that followed were peaceful.
Dominic even cleared out a space for a small art studio for me in the third-floor library.
When I didn't have class, I would paint. Dominic was often in the library as well, working. Sometimes he would sit beside me and watch, joking that he was collecting the early works of a future master.
When he found out I was learning marksmanship and combat, he volunteered to be my coach.
He noticed that my wardrobe consisted entirely of simple, athletic wear, and had a high-end designer send over a collection of perfectly coordinated outfits.
He had excellent taste. I never knew I could look so beautiful.
I thought my life would continue on this tranquil path.
Until one day, I noticed a shift in the atmosphere of the estate.
The butler knocked on my door.
"Miss Fairchild, we will be conducting a deep cleaning of the estate. We'll need you to stay at a hotel for a few days, perhaps a week."
"The driver and a maid will accompany you, so your daily routine will not be disturbed."
I traced the edge of the doorframe with my finger. After a moment's hesitation, I couldn't help but ask, "Will… Dominic be staying at the hotel too?"
This feeling…
My heart sank. It was horribly familiar.
Was Dominic tired of me, too? After only three months?
"Sir is… going on a business trip. He will come and pick you up personally when he returns."
I clenched my fists, forcing down the sour feeling rising in my throat. "Okay."
"When do we leave?"
"Whenever you are ready."
I told him I'd just change my clothes and then closed the door.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
It's fine. It's not the first time.
Thinking back on the last three months with Dominic, I sometimes felt a strange kinship with him, like I had met one of my own kind. His small, compulsive habits, the way he understood my paintings…
Whatever. Maybe he really was just busy.
I slung a backpack over my shoulder and went downstairs. The maids were almost all gone. Only the butler and the driver were waiting for me by the door.
A ridiculous thought popped into my head. What if Dominic went bankrupt?
I couldn't help but find a sliver of dark humor in the thought, and then promptly choked on my own saliva. I motioned to the butler and hurried to the kitchen for a glass of water. I still didn't know the estate very well; it wasn't a castle, but it was far from small.
After drinking the water, I passed by a room with the door slightly ajar. I heard the faint sound of shattering glass from inside.
Didn't they say everyone was gone?
Maybe it was one of Dominic's pets? A cat or a dog? It couldn't be a person…
Curiosity killed the cat.
I went back to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and returned to the half-open door. I pushed it open.
Behind the door was a staircase leading down.
A basement?
The lights along the stairs were on, and the walls were adorned with beautiful murals. Holding my phone in one hand and the knife in the other, I slowly descended.
At the bottom was another, more ornate door. I thought about turning back. What if it was dangerous?
But just as I was about to leave, I heard a familiar sound. It was just a muffled grunt, but I recognized it. It was Dominic's voice.
I turned back and pulled the door open.
Slumped on the floor, amidst the shards of a broken wine bottle, was him.
8
Dominic was clutching a piece of glass in his right hand. His left hand was a bloody mess from where he’d been punching the wall.
I hesitated, torn between running away and my stupid bleeding heart. I settled on a cowardly compromise: I stayed in the doorway and called his name.
"Dominic? Are you okay?"
His body went rigid, every muscle tensing. It was as if he was shocked to hear another person's voice.
He turned and looked at me.
"Bella? How did you find this place…? Didn't the butler take you away?"
Dominic forced a smile, the same gentle smile he always wore, but it didn't reach his eyes. I could see his left hand trembling.
I debated for a few moments, regretting that I'd called out to him. "I'll go now. I won't disturb you. Just… make sure you take care of your hand."
I was about to close the door when I heard him whisper, a desperate plea: "Don't go…"
"What?"
"I won't hurt you. Don't be afraid."
"I just… I had a nightmare. I can't sleep. I'm scared."
"Bella, can you just… stay with me for a little while?"
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