As she reached the main foyer, she saw Enrico and Carmen standing by the entrance, flanked by several guards. Angelo was on his knees, his face a mess of bruises and cuts. The sight of her father in such a state broke something inside Isabella.
Isabella rushed forward, her heart pounding with fear and desperation. She could barely recognize her father through the bruises and swelling that marred his face. Two of Enrico’s men held Angelo upright, his legs too weak to support his weight.
"Papa," Isabella cried out, her voice trembling with anguish. She knelt in front of him, gently placing her hands on his cheeks, lifting his head so she could look into his eyes. "Papa, why did you do this?" she sobbed, her tears falling onto his battered face.
Angelo struggled to open his eyes, the swell
