The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 76: Just go. Go. Before I lose my mind

Isabella dusted off her hands, surveying the almost completed well with a satisfied nod.

She had spent the last thirty minutes barking orders at the men, making sure they knew exactly how to finish the damn thing.

If they followed her instructions right, the well would be done soon enough, hopefully before she lost her mind living in this prehistoric nightmare.

Good. That was one less thing to worry about.

As if the universe sensed she deserved a reward, Glimora—her tiny, perfect ball of white fluff—finally stirred from her peaceful nap.

She walked out of Isabella’s small hut.

With a sleepy yawn, the little creature stretched, her soft fur gleaming in the fading evening light.

Everyone around them paused just to admire her beauty.

"Ahhh, my perfect little angel!" Isabella cooed, stretching out her arms. The moment Glimora spotted her, she rushed into Isabella’s embrace with a happy little chirp.

Isabella giggled, her heart swelling with pure love.

Yes. Everything around her should be just as cute and pretty as she was. Period.

Shelia rolled her eyes, though the smile on her face betrayed her amusement.

Ophelia, ever the soft-hearted one, giggled as well, watching Isabella smother her pet in affectionate kisses.

Everything was perfect. Peaceful. Cute. Serene.

And then Luca came back.

With a dead deer.

Dripping. In. Blood.

Isabella’s entire body froze. Her face went blank as she took in the grisly sight before her.

Luca, oblivious as ever, carried the carcass over his shoulder like it was a casual sack of potatoes.

Isabella’s eyes trailed down to the steady drip... drip... drip of blood hitting the ground.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Then, slowly—very slowly—she lifted her gaze to meet his.

Luca stared back, his eyes completely innocent.

"You’re not... planning on skinning and washing that here, are you?" Isabella asked, her voice dangerously calm. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Luca, the overgrown idiot, just shrugged. "Yeah. What’s wrong with that?"

Isabella felt her entire soul leave her body.

Shelia and Ophelia exchanged looks, already sensing the incoming storm.

Glimora, ever so wise, burrowed deeper into Isabella’s arms like she wanted no part of what was about to happen.

Isabella inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself before she lost her temper. And then—

Her gaze snapped to Luca’s skirt.

The knife. Where was the knife she gave him?

Her very first attempt at crafting—a knife made from sharpened bone—missing.

Oh.

OH.

She clenched her jaw, her fingers twitching. "Luca."

"Hmm?"

"Where’s the knife I gave you?"

Luca blinked, looking genuinely confused. "Oh. I didn’t use it."

...

"You didn’t use it."

"Yeah. It was easier hunting in my wolf form."

...

Silence.

Pure, deadly silence.

Shelia and Ophelia stared at Luca in horror.

Did he just...?

Did this man really just tell Isabella that her first-ever crafted weapon—the knife she proudly made—was completely useless to him?

Shelia subtly took a step back, ready to bolt the moment Isabella snapped.

Ophelia’s hands flew to her mouth, her chubby cheeks turning pale.

Even Luca himself suddenly looked like he was rethinking his entire existence.

Isabella slowly turned, staring at the ground like she was mentally calculating whether or not murder was worth the effort.

Patience, Isabella. Patience.

Her eye twitched. She exhaled sharply.

"Okay," she said. "Fine."

Luca looked relieved. That was his first mistake.

"Then explain to me," Isabella continued, her voice sweet as honey, "exactly how you plan on preparing this meat."

Luca brightened immediately, happy to be of use. "It’s simple!" he said cheerfully. "I’ll just—"

The more he spoke, the more Isabella regretted breathing.

Shelia clenched her fists. Ophelia looked seconds away from fainting.

And then it happened.

Luca—in all his naive, clueless glory—casually mentioned how he was planning to wash the deer meat with the dirty water.

...

Oh.

Oh.

Isabella stopped breathing.

Her hands trembled.

Her ears rang.

She didn’t even hear the rest of his explanation because her brain was still stuck on the horrifying realization that—

Wait.

The meat... she had been eating...

Had been washed... in THAT water.

Oh.

OH.

Ignorance. Truly, a bliss.

She could feel her stomach churning as her mind replayed every meat she had consumed here.

Shelia and Ophelia slowly turned toward Isabella, eyes wide with pure fear.

Glimora, sensing the incoming disaster, squeaked again and buried herself deeper into Isabella’s arms.

Isabella let out a long, exhausted sigh, barely registering the words spilling from Luca’s mouth. His voice faded into the background, muffled and distant, like a distant hum of nonsense.

Her mind was elsewhere. On the water.

The well wasn’t done yet, and every second without clean, safe water felt like a countdown to her untimely death.

How these people had survived drinking that swamp juice for so long was beyond her, but she wasn’t built for this.

Early Stone Age living? Yeah, no.

She wasn’t some wild animal gnawing on raw meat, nor was she some cavewoman smashing things with a rock. She was actually cooking.

Cooking.

Not skewering meat over a fire and calling it a meal. Real cooking. Boiling, seasoning, making food that actually tasted good instead of just not killing her.

So, yeah. She needed real water.

She had two choices:

1. Expose her secret water source and risk people ruining it.

2. Keep it hidden and be forced to use whatever filth Luca planned on washing that deer with.

And she wasn’t planning on roasting meat.

She was making food.

Her jaw clenched as she inhaled deeply, making up her mind.

This wasn’t just about survival anymore. She had standards.

"Luca," Isabella whispered, very, very softly.

Luca stopped talking.

"Y-yeah?"

Isabella exhaled. "There’s a secret water source."

Luca blinked. "Huh?"

"A secret. Water. Source," she repeated, her voice dangerously calm. "It’s very clean."

She slowly lifted her head, her gaze as sharp as a damn knife.

"If any of you ever let anyone know about it, I swear on my life, I will murder you."

Silence.

Pure. Terrified. Silence.

Ophelia, who had already known about the river, blinked. "She’s being serious," she said innocently.

Shelia immediately turned to Ophelia, eyes wide with fake betrayal.

"Wait, you knew about a clean water source this entire time?" she gasped, clutching her chest dramatically.

Ophelia, ever the innocent one, gasped in guilt. "I—I didn’t mean to keep it from you!"

Shelia shook her head, sighing deeply. "Wow, Ophelia. Wow. I thought we were friends."

Ophelia panicked. "No, no! It’s not like that—"

Shelia suddenly grinned. "I’m joking."

Ophelia pouted, clearly offended by the fake betrayal.

Isabella ignored them. She turned sharply toward Luca.

"You," she ordered. "Grab the biggest hollowed-out gourds. Fetch a lot of water."

Luca nodded quickly.

"Then," Isabella continued, her voice like a queen giving a royal decree, "take the deer far, far away. Skin it. Wash it properly."

Luca nodded again, stepping back, fully prepared to follow her orders—

And then, right as he was about to move, he paused.

"Luca, I don’t know, just—" Isabella dragged a hand down her face, exasperated. "Just go. Go. Before I lose my mind."