Chapter six

Chapter six .

Isabella traced the fading bruises on her sister's arm where the IV had been, careful not to disturb the fresh needle site. The steady beep of the heart monitor had become oddly comforting over the past weeks – each tone a reminder that Josephine was still fighting.

"The treatment is showing remarkable results," Dr. Martinez said, checking the charts at the foot of the bed. "Her numbers have improved significantly since we started. Whatever you did to get the funding, Ms. Taylor, it saved your sister's life."

Isabella's throat tightened. If only the doctor knew the true cost of that miracle.

"Does this mean I can finally get decent hospital food?" Josephine's weak voice spoke. "No offense, Doc, but that green jello should be classified as cruel and unusual punishment."

Dr. Martinez chuckled. "I'll see what I can do about upgrading your menu. But remember—"

"Small portions, nothing too heavy," Josephine finished with an eye roll. "I know the drill."

After the doctor left, Isabella adjusted her sister's pillows, trying to hide the trembling in her hands.

"Stop fussing, Bella." Josephine caught her wrist. "I'm not going to break."

"I know, I just—"

"Hey." Josephine's grip tightened. "Look at me. Whatever's eating you up inside, spill it. You've got that same look you had when you broke Mom's favourite vase and tried to blame it on the neighbor's cat."

Isabella Laughed. "That cat was definitely suspicious."

Isabella sank into the chair beside the bed, her sister's hand still holding her. "I can't lose you, Jo. When they said the cancer was spreading, I—" Her voice cracked.

"But you didn't lose me. I'm right here, getting better, thanks to you." Josephine's eyes narrowed. "Though you still haven't told me how you managed to afford this treatment."

Isabella forced a smile. "Let's just say I made a deal."

"With who?

*If you only knew, Isabella thought.

You should rest," she said instead, standing. "I need to handle some work anyway."

"By 'work' you mean that thing you think I don't know about?" Josephine's knowing look made Isabella freeze. "Come on, sis. I've seen your sketches. Veritas, right? Pretty clever pseudonym."

Isabella's heart stopped. "Jo—"

"Your secret's safe with me." Josephine's eyes were already drooping. "Just... be careful, okay?"

The streets were quiet as she walked home, her mind already sketching the details of her next Veritas piece. Dark shadows, money changing hands, the American flag twisted into dollar signs, Senator Morrison... Isabella kept glancing over her shoulder, the prickling sensation of being watched had started three blocks ago.. Someone was following her.

She ducked into a narrow side street, running faster . By Left turn, right turn, another right – the route deliberately random.The footsteps behind her speed up too. Her heart hammered as she took another sharp turn, then another. Finally, the footsteps seemed to fade. She let out a shaky breath.

Too soon.

A figure stepped out of the shadows ahead, and Isabella's heart leaped into her throat. She spun to retreat, only to freeze at a familiar laugh.

"You should see your face right now," Alexander Elysian's voice carried through the alley.

Isabella's fear turned into anger. "You were following me?"

"Actually, he was." Alexander gestured to a tall, broad-shouldered man beside him. "Meet Marcus, your new security bodyguard.I would have told you sooner, but I had a feeling you'd be... difficult about it."

"My what?" Isabella's voice went dangerously quiet.

"Can't have my future wife wandering around unsafe neighborhoods alone." His smirk widened. "Although watching you try to shake a trained professional was... entertaining."

Isabella's fingers itched to wipe that smug look off his face. "I don't need a babysitter."

"The contract says otherwise." Alexander straightened his perfectly tailored jacket. "Section 4, Paragraph 2: 'Both parties agree to maintain appropriate security measures.' Consider this me fulfilling my contractual obligations."

He checked his watch. "Dinner tonight. Eight o'clock. Le Blanc. Wear something suitable

"I have plans," Isabella lied.

"Cancel them." He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Isabella? Next time you want to take the scenic route home, just let Marcus know. These alleyways aren't exactly suitable for a future Elysian."

Isabella watched him walk away, her fists clenched. The devil in designer suits, indeed.

*Consequences of assaulting fake fiancé? Asking for a friend*, she texted Mirabel.

The reply came instantly: *Depends. How hot does he look in a mugshot?*

Despite everything, Isabella found herself smiling. She had a feeling she was going to need her best friend's humor to survive the next year.

Marcus cleared his throat quietly. "Miss Taylor? Would you like me to drive you home?"

Isabella closed her eyes, counting to ten. "No thank you, Marcus. I think I'll walk. You're welcome to follow at a respectful distance."

******

Alexander Elysian leaned back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. Le Blanc was bustling with the city's elite, but his private corner booth ensured privacy. Just the way he liked it.

He checked his watch - 8:02 pm. Right on time.

The click of heels against the marble floor made him glance up. His breath caught.

Isabella strode toward him, all long legs and dangerous curves in a figure-hugging emerald dress. Her dark hair tumbled in loose waves around her face, framing her flawless features.

Isabella glided into the restaurant, every step radiating confidence. Her simple black dress clung to her curves, offset by delicate silver jewelry that caught the candlelight. Her hair fell in soft waves around her face, and Alexander had to resist the urge to reach out and tuck an errant strand behind her ear.

She was breathtaking.Gorgeous didn't begin to cover it.

She slid into the booth across from him, a slight blush colouring her cheeks. "I'm here. Happy?"

"Delighted." His gaze lingered appreciatively. "You look... exquisite."

Her blush deepened, but she lifted her chin. "Let's get this over with."

The waiter appeared, efficiently pouring their wine. Alexander waited until he left before leaning forward.

"Shall we start with the family dinner?" He swirled his glass. "I'm sure you have... questions."

"Certainly." Isabella took a healthy sip of wine. "What exactly are we walking into?"

"They want me to marry someone from a respectable, wealthy background." He watched her reaction closely. "You understand the... optics, of course."

"Of course." Her tone was carefully neutral. "And I suppose I don't exactly fit that mold."

"On the contrary." He gave her a wolfish grin. "You're perfect."

Her eyes narrowed further. "Explain."

"Well, you see, I may have... embellished a few details about our relationship." He swirled the wine in his glass. "I've been telling them we've been dating for the past six months. Met at an art exhibition, you know."

Isabella stared at him, unblinking.

"And I may have also mentioned that you come from a rather affluent family." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Your father is a tech mogul, living abroad. Busy man, you know how it is."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're unbelievable."

"Thank you." He grinned.

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Ah, but you see, sweetheart, it works perfectly." He reached across the table, trailing a finger along the back of her hand. She flinched, but didn't pull away. "My family is thrilled at the prospect of me settling down with a woman of such... distinction. And you get the treatment and care your sister so desperately needs."

As she sipped her wine, Alexander's gaze studied her intently. She shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his stare.

"What?" she snapped.

"Nothing." His lips curved in a slow, predatory smile. "I'm just... looking forward to getting to know you better, Isabella Taylor."

She fought the urge to shiver. There was something dangerous lurking behind that smile, something that made her instinctively want to run.

Unfortunately, running wasn't an option anymore.

She was in Alexander Elysian's world now. And if she wanted to save her sister, she'd have to play by his rules.

At least for now.

"So." Isabella took another sip of her wine. "When is this family dinner you've roped me into?"

"Next Sunday." He watched her carefully. "I trust you'll be on your best behaviour?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be on my best 'I'm-about-to-stab-you-with-a-fork' behaviour."

Alexander laughed, the sound rich and genuine. This was going to be more fun than he'd anticipated.

"I look forward to it, Mrs. Elysian."