He was shivering uncontrollably. She had walked over and pressed a hot water bottle into his hands.
"Dylan, hold this. Don't catch a cold," she had said softly.
"Thank you, Isabella."
"Don't worry, I won't leave you. I'll stay right here with you."
She had been a whole head shorter than him, but she had stayed loyally by his side in the freezing cold.
And then there was the pitch-black basement where he had been locked away in solitary confinement.
It was Isabella who had snuck in to keep him company.
"Dylan, don't be afraid. I'm here. The guard dogs won't bite you!"
"But I'm so cold. The floor is freezing."
"Don't be scared. I'm here. I'll keep you warm."
She had wrapped her small arms tightly around him in the dark.
When they were finally let out the next morning, he had been fine because of her body heat.
But she had collapsed, burning up with a dangerously high fever.
He had felt an overwhelming sense of guilt back then. He had sworn to himself that he would grow strong enough to protect her at all costs.
As he grew older, he poured his blood, sweat, and tears into proving his worth, finally earning his father's reluctant acknowledgment and becoming the CEO of the company at a young age.
Whenever a servant dared to disrespect her, he ruthlessly made them pay.
When she got a tiny papercut on her finger, he rushed her to the hospital in a panic.
He had treated her like absolute royalty. He had viewed her as his emotional anchor, his safest harbor in a cruel world. Yet the moment he was crippled, she had discarded him like trash.
She had even paid someone to physically abuse him.
And now, she threw it in his face that every single sweet memory was nothing but a calculated performance.
Not a single trace of genuine affection.
It was a devastating, crippling blow to his heart.

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