Linda, undeterred by her brother's intervention, folded her arms across her chest defiantly. Her piercing gaze bore into Isabella, scrutinizing her every move with suspicion. The room, adorned with antique furniture and family portraits, seemed to shrink in the face of Linda's hostility. "Why do you always support her, brother? Don't tell me you like her!" Linda's accusation hung in the air, her tone laced with skepticism as she studied her brother's expression.

  Ledvic's smirk widened as he turned his attention back to Isabella. "Look how sweet and cute Isabella looks... that's why I always support her," he replied smoothly, his voice tinged with amusement. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he observed Isabella's flushed cheeks, a testament to her innocence amidst the storm brewing around her.

  Isabella seized the opportunity to excuse herself, offering a polite "Excuse me, young miss and master, I'm going to Mr. Perry's room." With a nod of acknowledgment from Ledvic and a dismissive roll of the eyes from Linda, Isabella hurried into Mr. Perry's room, seeking refuge from the tension that hung in the air.

  Entering the dimly lit room, Isabella found Mr. Perry reclining on his bed, his weathered features softened in repose. A gentle smile graced his lips as he acknowledged Isabella's presence, his eyes lighting up with warmth. The room, adorned with floral curtains and cozy furnishings, exuded a sense of tranquility, a sanctuary from the chaos outside. "Isabella, you came! I was just bored, so I thought to take a nap, but I was unable to," Mr. Perry greeted her warmly, his voice tinged with gratitude.

  Approaching his bedside, Isabella's heart swelled with affection for the kindly old man who had become a surrogate grandfather to her. She checked his temperature and pulse, ensuring his comfort with gentle hands. Relief washed over her when she confirmed that he was in good health, his vitality undiminished by the passage of time.

  "Did you take your medication, Mr. Perry?" Isabella inquired softly, her voice laced with concern. Mr. Perry nodded affirmatively, his eyes crinkling with amusement at Isabella's fussing. Her unwavering dedication to his well-being touched him deeply, a stark contrast to the indifference of his own grandchildren.

  Linda's disdainful attitude and Ledvic's preoccupation with his own affairs left Mr. Perry yearning for companionship. Isabella's presence filled the void in his life, bringing light and warmth to his lonely existence. He cherished their conversations and shared moments, treasuring her like a precious gem amidst the sea of indifference.

  Offering to make him apple juice, Isabella's kindness knew no bounds. She bustled about the room, gathering the necessary ingredients with practiced efficiency. As she worked, her mind drifted to the turbulent encounter with Linda, her heart heavy with the weight of her disapproval.

  With the juice prepared, Isabella approached Mr. Perry's bedside, a glass brimming with amber liquid in hand. His eyes sparkled with anticipation as she offered him the refreshing beverage, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

  As Mr. Perry savored the tangy sweetness of the apple juice, Isabella stole a moment to herself, her thoughts consumed by the events of the day. Linda's harsh words echoed " These apples look bad! ?" 

  "But these apples are good, Miss... I've washed them three times!" Isabella's voice trembled as she defended herself, her head bowed in fear of Linda's wrath. The kitchen, usually a place of warmth and comfort, now felt oppressive as tension hung thick in the air. The soft glow of the overhead lights cast long shadows across the tiled floor, accentuating the severity of the situation.

  Linda's eyes narrowed as she reached for the glass of juice Isabella had prepared for Mr. Perry. "Let me check whether this juice is good or not... you can make another for him," she demanded, her tone sharp with authority. Isabella recoiled instinctively, her heart pounding in her chest as she anticipated Linda's next move.

  Refusing to relinquish the glass, Isabella dodged Linda's outstretched hand, her movements swift and agile. But Linda was relentless, her determination fueled by anger and entitlement. With a forceful tug, she wrested the glass from Isabella's grasp, her triumph evident in the triumphant smirk that played upon her lips.

  As Linda greedily consumed the juice meant for Mr. Perry, Isabella's heart sank, her concern for the elderly man overshadowed by the injustice of Linda's actions. Blood trickled from the wound on her temple where it had collided with the edge of the kitchen island, a painful reminder of the altercation.

  With tears brimming in her eyes, Isabella retreated to the sink, her trembling hands fumbling for a cloth to staunch the bleeding. Her vision blurred with tears as she washed away the blood, her mind consumed by thoughts of Mr. Perry and the injustice she had suffered at Linda's hands.

  Determined to fulfill her duty to Mr. Perry, Isabella set aside her own pain and set about preparing a fresh batch of apple juice. With each slice of fruit, she poured her heart and soul into the task, her hands moving with practiced precision despite the ache that throbbed in her temple.

  With the juice in hand, Isabella made her way to Mr. Perry's room, her steps faltering as she entered the dimly lit space. Jonathan Perry sat in his wheelchair by the window, his eyes clouded with concern as he took in Isabella's injured appearance.

  "What happened to you, Isabella? How did you injure your temple?" Jonathan's voice was filled with genuine concern as he reached out to her, his worry etched upon his weathered features.

  Isabella hesitated, torn between the truth and the desire to shield Jonathan from the harsh realities of Linda's cruelty. "There was water on the floor, and I didn't notice it... I slipped and hit my temple on the edge of the island," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. With a reassuring smile, she pressed the glass of juice into Jonathan's trembling hands, determined to bring him comfort despite her own pain.

  As Jonathan sipped the refreshing beverage, Isabella busied herself with selecting a novel from his extensive collection. Her eyes fell upon a red book with the title "Loving an Orphan," a pang of sadness tugging at her heart as she thought of her own orphaned status. But she pushed aside her personal sorrow, focusing instead on Jonathan's enjoyment of the romantic tale.

  Unbeknownst to Isabella and Jonathan, a shadowy figure lurked in the shadows, spying on their every move. With a phone pressed to his ear, the unknown observer relayed Isabella's plight to his mysterious master, his voice tinged with malice as he plotted his next move.

  "Keep watching her... and report back to me if anything happens to her," the master commanded, his sinister intentions shrouded in secrecy. With a final glance around the room to ensure he remained undetected, the spy melted into the darkness, his presence a harbinger of danger yet to come.