Heartbreak To Heiress

Iris's POV

I never thought I'd actually do it.

Pack my bags. Leave the town I grew up in. Walk away from everything that used to mean something to me. But here I am. Standing in my tiny new apartment, the city buzzing outside, finally breathing on my own.

I needed this.

After what Ian and Isabella did to me, staying back there would've killed me slowly. Not just because of the stares or the whispers, but because every corner reminded me of them. Of us. Of what used to be.

I loved them both. That's the worst part. My boyfriend. My sister. The two people I would've died for. And they didn't just betray me. They destroyed me. Ian cheated more times than I could count, and somehow I always gave him another chance. Told myself maybe this time he meant it. Maybe this time he'd stop. But sleeping with my sister? That broke something I didn't know could break.

And Isabella. Sweet, soft spoken Isabella. She was my baby sister. I trusted her with my whole heart. I would've taken a bullet for her. I still don't understand how she looked me in the eye and lied like that.

I couldn't stay after that. I couldn't pretend I was okay. So I didn't.

I worked harder than I ever have. Took every nursing shift I could. Kept my little baking shop open even on the days I couldn't feel my feet. I saved up every cedi, every tip. I counted down the months. I told myself once I got here, to this city, I'd start over.

And now I'm here.

A proper job at a bigger hospital. My own place, even if it's small and quiet. No more waking up to shame. No more running into ghosts. I made it out. And for the first time in a long time, it feels like things might actually go right.

Maybe this is what freedom tastes like.

I don't know what's waiting for me next. But I know one thing. I'll never let anyone destroy me like that again.

It's been three months since I moved to the city. Three months of trying to adjust. The hospital was bigger, busier. A whole different world from the one I came from. But somehow, I was managing.

I had one close friend here, Rose. She was the only one I felt a little safe around. She used to work at the nursing home back in our small town, so she understood me more than anyone else here. I didn't have to explain myself too much. She just got it.

I've always had a thing for helping people. Not just because it was my job, but because it made me feel like I mattered. Even when my own life was falling apart, taking care of someone else gave me a reason to keep going.

That morning, I was sitting quietly in the head doctor's office. I didn't know what to expect. He had called me in unexpectedly, and I wasn't sure if I'd done something wrong or something right.

"I called you here because I have an important job for you," he said. He flipped through a thick folder as he spoke. "I looked at your records from the town hospital you worked for. It's clear you're very good with patients, especially those in nursing homes."

I just nodded. I didn't say anything. I've learned sometimes silence says more.

He glanced back up at me.

"As you already know, Mr Di Ricci, the patient you've been attending to these past two months, will be discharged soon. And the family has requested that he continue with the same care he's received here. They want a nurse to live with him. Someone they can trust. And we'd like to assign you as his personal nurse."

I didn't react right away, but inside I was surprised.

Mr Di Ricci.

He wasn't like the other patients. The moment I was assigned to him, I could tell he came from serious money. Everything about him screamed old wealth. His room was guarded like a private mansion. The way his wife and daughter carried themselves. Even his older brother. Everything was tailored, expensive, cold.

But somehow, with me, he was different.

He talked. A lot. About his family. His past. His regrets. There were days he didn't want anyone else around but me. I used to think maybe he just needed the company, but it was more than that. We built something steady. Quiet trust.

I knew what to expect from him. I knew how to care for him. I had already been doing it without question.

So when the doctor said those words, I knew I was ready.

"Yes," I said softly. "I can do it."

His wife broke the news while I was in the room, folding the last of his clean shirts. She walked in like she owned every space she stepped into. Everything about her was polished. The clothes. The heels. The air she carried.

"You'll be going home tomorrow," she told him, barely glancing in my direction. "Your nurse will be joining you."

Just like that.

He turned to me, and I'll never forget the look on his face. It wasn't shock. It wasn't disappointment either. It was warm. Like he was genuinely glad I'd be the one going with him.

He reached for my hand, held it gently.

"Thank you, Iris," he said. "For everything."

That moment meant more than I could explain.

But still, something about his wife unsettled me. I couldn't tell if it was how she looked at me, or how she never really spoke unless she had to. Every time she came around, I felt like I was being measured. Judged. Watched too closely.

The next day, the guards came early to help pack his things. Everything moved quickly and quietly, like they'd done this many times before. I got my things ready too. Just a few of my essentials. I didn't need much. I was going to live in someone else's home now. A stranger's home. A very powerful one.

We took the elevator down, and I followed him out of the hospital for the first time. I had seen glimpses of his world before, in the people who visited and the way staff moved around him. But stepping outside into that car, with the tinted windows and the suited driver, it really hit me.

This was a different world. One built on class, money, and power.

When we arrived, I just stood there. I didn't even mean to. It just happened.

The house in front of me wasn't a house. It was a mansion. Tall gates. Expensive cars lined up like ornaments. Security guards by the doors. House staff in uniforms. I froze for a second, because nothing in my life had ever looked like this.

They helped him out of the car. I followed behind quietly, still trying to take it all in. The driveway alone was bigger than the street I used to live on. And when the front doors opened, I forgot how to breathe.

The interior was stunning. Marble floors. A chandelier that looked like falling diamonds. Walls that looked like they belonged in a movie. Everything was spotless and cold and rich. It smelled like fresh flowers and something expensive I couldn't name.

I didn't say a word. I just followed, trying not to let the shock show on my face.

I was raised in a small, average home. Nothing close to this. And yet here I was, standing inside a mansion, in a place that didn't feel real.

I didn't know what I was walking into.

But something told me I needed to keep my eyes wide open.

They showed me to the guest room I'd be staying in. The moment I stepped inside, I froze. It was beautiful. The walls were cream and gold, the bed was massive, the pillows looked softer than anything I'd ever owned. I didn't even take time to unpack. I flopped down right onto the bed and let myself just breathe. For a few seconds, I forgot about everything. The betrayal. The pain. The past.

This was my new life now.

Later that evening, I sat quietly in Mr Di Ricci's room as he ate. I had gotten used to his little routines. He liked to talk before his meals and sit in silence after. I didn't mind. I was just there, watching over him like always. Once he finished, I would hand him his medicine and make sure he rested.

But then the knock came.

It was soft. Just two quick taps.

The door opened slowly, and a man stepped inside. I didn't pay much attention until our eyes locked and my stomach flipped.

Him.

I remembered him instantly. That man from the airport. The one who was rude. The one who had bumped into me and didn't even bother to say sorry. Arrogant. Dismissive. Cold.

The smile on my face disappeared. I had promised myself if I ever saw that man again, I'd confront him. Ask him who raised him and why he thought being rude was part of his charm.

But now? My voice got stuck. My chest tightened. I just stared.

He was tall with a sharp jawline. He was well dressed. He looked just as arrogant now as he did then. But he also looked tired. Like he had just come off a long flight. His suit was wrinkled. His hair looked slightly messy. Still, there was something about him that pulled attention without even trying.

Mr Di Ricci noticed. He turned and looked between the two of us.

"You two know each other?" he asked.

We both answered too quickly. "No."

He raised a brow, clearly not convinced, but didn't push. Instead, he gestured toward the man and said, "Judi, this is my son. The one I told you about. Sylvester."

I blinked.

Sylvester.

So this was him. The son. The CEO. The man at the top of the fashion empire. The one everyone whispered about in the hospital even when I had not met him.

He walked over to the bed and sat beside his father, resting one hand on his back gently.

"How are you feeling?" he asked him.

Mr Di Ricci smiled a little.

"Better now that I'm home."

I stood there quietly, watching the two of them. Trying to process that the rude stranger from the airport was now my boss's son. The same man I'd probably be seeing a lot more of.