ted resistance, of course-powerful people didn't just give away control. He had expected Jonathan to be difficult. After all, the Ravenswood patriarch wasn't the kind of man to roll over e

fully constructed for her. *Isabella was always dutiful,* Jonathan reminded himself, *but she is also her own person.* He turned away from the window, his expression hardening. The business came first. Always. --- *Isabella's Pov* Isabella sat alone in the private garden just outside the Ravenswood estate, the warm afternoon sun casting dappled shadows across the stone path. Her fingers absently toyed with the engagement ring that now adorned her left hand, the sparkling diamond gleaming under the light. She should have been thrilled. This was the next step in her life, the moment that solidified her place within the Ravenswood legacy. But all she could feel was a weight-heavy, unyielding. It wasn't that she didn't care for Thomas, her fiancé. He was a good man-respectable, successful, and eager to please her father. But that was just it. Thomas was a man who had been hand-picked by Jonathan, molded by the Ravenswood influence to fit the family's needs. He wasn't the man Isabella had chosen. He was the man her father had chosen for her. She sighed, looking at the ring once more. The diamonds reflected her conflicted emotions. She had always known her life would be guided by duty, but now, with everything feeling so scripted, so planned, she couldn't help but wonder if she was losing herself in the process. Then, there was Roman. She had to admit, Roman Westbrook intrigued her in a way that she couldn't quite explain. There was something magnetic about him, something that drew her in every time they spoke. It wasn't just his looks-though he was undeniably handsome-it was the way he seemed to see the world. He had a sharpness, a cool detachment that made her feel like he understood things she didn't. Sometimes, in his presence, she felt like she was walking on the edge of a cliff, caught between the future her father had mapped out for her and the unspoken possibility of something else-something more real. But Roman was a puzzle, a man of secrets. And Isabella didn't know if she could trust him, even as a friend. She could feel his eyes on her sometimes, like he was always watching, calculating. It unsettled her, and yet... there was something compelling about it. *But I can't afford distractions,* she reminded herself firmly, looking back at the ring. *I have a future to secure. A family to protect.* The sound of footsteps in the distance interrupted her thoughts. She didn't need to look up to know who it was. "Isabella,