Chapter 103: Innocence Is Bliss

The moment they stepped into the bakeshop, Isobel knew something was wrong.

The warm scent of freshly baked bread and butter, usually comforting, suddenly felt suffocating. Conversations faltered. Customers who had been browsing the display shelves paused mid-reach, their eyes drifting toward her.

One by one, they stared.

Then the whispers began.

Isobel’s brows knitted together. She didn’t have to guess who they were talking about.

"Isn’t she the one who’s all over the trending topics?"

"I think she is."

"Seriously? She still has the nerve to show her face after all that?"

"If I were her, I’d lock myself inside for at least a month."

"Well, some people have no shame."

"The guy with her... isn’t he the man from those photos? Looks like they’re really having an affair."

Each word struck Isobel like a tiny needle. She tried to ignore them, but the whispers grew louder, more brazen now that they thought she could hear.

Richard heard enough.

The warmth that usually softened his features disappeared in an instant. His expression turned icy as he shot a sharp glare toward the trio of teenagers gossiping near the pastry shelf.

The three instantly fell silent.

A strange chill crawled down their spines as though the temperature inside the bakery had dropped several degrees. Avoiding Richard’s piercing gaze, they hurriedly grabbed the bread they intended to buy and busied themselves with anything but looking his way.

Richard said nothing.

He simply picked up a box and placed a dozen egg tarts inside before walking to the cashier.

Isobel blinked in surprise.

"Richard, that’s too many," she said softly. "Just get half a dozen. The rest will go bad."

"It’s fine," he replied without hesitation. "If you can’t finish them, just give them away. Or throw them out."

The cashier rang up the purchase before looking between the two of them with poorly concealed curiosity.

"So... you two are together?"

Richard looked at her, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

The cashier blinked. "Wait... you don’t know?"

Richard’s expression darkened.

The cashier lowered her voice, though it wasn’t nearly low enough.

"The young woman with you is trending all over the internet. Everyone’s saying she seduced the CEO of Dalton Realty. That’s why people have been staring since you came in."

For a split second, the world around Isobel seemed to go silent.

Her heart lurched.

With trembling fingers, she hurriedly pulled out her phone.

Before she could unlock it, Richard’s warm hand gently closed over hers. His touch lasted only a moment before his hand slid down to encircle her wrist, steady and reassuring.

"Come," he said calmly.

He deliberately raised his voice just enough for everyone in the bakery to hear.

"It’s getting late."

His eyes swept across the silent customers before returning to Isobel.

"I’ll take you home."

Without giving anyone another glance, Richard led her toward the exit, his hand never leaving her wrist as the whispers behind them faded into uneasy silence.

This version leans more heavily into atmosphere, emotional tension, and Richard’s protective presence while making the gossip feel more natural and impactful. If you’re aiming for a romance novel tone, it should read with stronger dramatic momentum.

...

The drive back to the Foster mansion passed in heavy silence.

Isobel sat quietly in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone. With every article she opened and every comment she read, the color slowly drained from her face. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and the light in her eyes dimmed little by little.

Richard noticed every change.

His jaw tightened as he kept his eyes on the road. The fingers wrapped around the steering wheel gradually curled until his knuckles turned white.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

"Stop reading."

His voice was calm and even, but beneath the composure was an unmistakable edge.

"It won’t do you any good."

Isobel’s thumb froze over the screen.

"...Okay."

She didn’t argue or ask questions. She simply locked her phone and slipped it into her bag.

Richard shot her a brief sideways glance.

He had expected her to protest or insist that she needed to know what people were saying. Instead, she had quietly listened.

That somehow made his chest feel even heavier.

Neither of them spoke again.

The silence inside the car stretched on, broken only by the soft hum of the engine as they drove toward the Foster mansion.

....

"We’re here," Isobel said softly as she unfastened her seat belt.

Richard eased off the engine but didn’t move.

His gaze drifted past the windshield to the estate before them.

Morgan Foster’s mansion stood behind towering wrought-iron gates, its elegant stone façade glowed from spotlight and sconces. The sprawling gardens were immaculate, every hedge perfectly sculpted, every flowerbed meticulously arranged. Even from the driveway, the place exuded wealth, influence, and the kind of power that ordinary people could only admire from afar.

His eyes landed on Isobel.

How had she become entangled with men like them? First, there was Kristof. Now, Morgan Foster.

Neither was someone the average person could simply cross paths with, yet both seemed deeply involved in her life.

Richard frowned.

The more he learned about Isobel, the more he realized how much she changed in the last few years.

He turned to her.

"Go inside and get some rest."

His voice was gentler this time.

"And stay off the internet. Don’t read any more of those comments."

Isobel looked at him for a moment before giving a small nod.

"...Okay."

"I’ll take care of everything else." Richard added.

A faint smile tugged at her lips.

"Thank you, Richard."

She climbed out of the car and made her way toward the mansion.

Richard remained where he was, watching until she reached the front door. Just before stepping inside, she turned around.

Their eyes met.

She lifted a hand and gave him a small wave.

Richard returned it with a slight nod.

Only after the heavy doors closed behind her did he shift the car into gear.

The warmth in his expression vanished. His eyes hardened with resolve. Whoever had started the rumors... Whoever thought they could ruin Isobel’s life...

They were about to learn they had chosen the wrong person to target.

The car surged forward, disappearing down the tree-lined driveway.