Isabel’s POVThe device Sebastian had given me was still tucked away in the military clothes. And those clothes were… in my room, right next to the bed where Emerson lay.I crept through the dimly lit hallway. The old wooden floorboards groaned softly under my weight. The atmosphere felt heavy, as if the very air was laden with secrets. My heart raced as I approached the door to my room. Every instinct was urging me to retreat. I pressed my ear against the cool wood, straining to catch any sound from within.A low, rhythmic snoring floated through the door. Good. Emerson was sleeping, as I had hoped.Carefully, I pushed the door ajar and slipped inside. The sight of him sprawled across the bed, his face partially hidden by tousled hair, stirred a strange mixture of emotions within me. I focused on the chair where my old barracks clothes hung. Shadows draped them like a ghost of my past. I tiptoed toward it, my heart pounding with every cautious step.Just as I reached the jacket pock
Isabel’s POVI sat frozen on the edge of the sofa, Sebastian’s words still echoing in my mind. Emerson was at the scene of the accident. The idea circled my thoughts like a dark cloud. Could he have been behind my father’s accident? I had always assumed it was orchestrated by one of my father’s competitors. That’s what made sense—his financial ruin had already seemed like enough revenge for Emerson. But what if that wasn’t enough for him? What if he wanted my father dead?It didn’t make sense. Emerson had the power to make someone disappear quietly, effortlessly. He didn’t need a car accident. If he wanted to eliminate my father, why not do it while he was vulnerable, in the hospital? Emerson had all the opportunity in the world. He could’ve hired someone to make it look like a tragic complication from surgery or recovery. But he didn’t. So what was he doing at the scene?The conflicting thoughts twisted inside me like a knot. What are you hiding, Emerson? I couldn’t shake Sebastian’
Isabel’s POV"Miss Isabel," Marianne’s voice was gentle, almost pleading, "I know it’s not my place, but I think he really needs you right now."Her words hung in the air. A part of me wanted to turn around, to run from whatever control Emerson was trying to have over me. But I needed answers. Why had he done all of this? What was driving him?With a steadying breath, I nodded. "Fine. I’ll see him." She gave me a relieved smile, but it did nothing to ease the tension in my chest. Marianne’s footsteps echoed softly as I followed her down the long, dimly lit hallway toward the guest room, where Emerson had claimed my bed. The closer I got, the tighter the knot in my stomach grew.Why did he need to see me so badly? Why was he doing this to himself—putting his health at risk, refusing to take his medicine—just to talk to me?As I approached the room, I felt the weight of my suspicions and fears, the lingering bitterness between us. The door creaked open, and there he was, lying in bed,
Isabel’s POVFor a fleeting moment, Emerson looked taken aback. His usual icy demeanor cracked just enough to reveal a hint of something raw underneath. But then, his expression hardened again, eyes narrowing. His self-esteem, bruised by my words, spiked his anger."Of course not," he scoffed, his tone laced with contempt. "Don’t flatter yourself, Isabel. The brooch belongs to you. It was given to you, and it should stay with you. That’s all."His words bit at me, but I wasn’t about to let him see the sting. He shifted slightly in the bed, wincing as the movement aggravated his injuries. The weariness etched into his features might have softened another person in my position. But I was too angry to care. I studied his face, searching for even the faintest flicker of sincerity. But there was none. Only the same cold, calculating mask he'd always worn—an impenetrable barrier between us.I’d seen it a thousand times during our marriage. Back then, I used to think of his aloofness as part
Isabel’s POV"Isabel," Emerson said, his trembling voice a sharp contrast to the icy demeanor he usually wore like armor. "Put the knife down."The vulnerability in his tone made me hesitate for a moment. But I didn’t lower the blade."Let me go, Emerson," I demanded, my voice steady but tense. "I can’t live like this—trapped, controlled. I won’t. So if you don’t give me my freedom..." I let the words trail off deliberately, knowing he understood the threat behind them.The air between us was thick with tension, so heavy it felt suffocating. Emerson’s chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, his eyes locked onto mine. He seemed torn, between his need to control me and his fear of what I might do to escape his grip."Isabel," he whispered again, and this time his voice cracked just slightly. "Please... put it down."The ironclad man who seemed to control everything, suddenly seemed so vulnerable. It was a rare crack in the wall, a glimpse of something deeper. But I didn’t trust it. Not af
Emerson’s POVAs I watched Isabel leave the room, a flood of confusion washed over me. My wounds hurt and my mind was spinning. “Why would she go to such lengths to get away from me? Can’t she see I’m just trying to keep her safe?” I thought to myself.But then, I supposed her demands weren’t unreasonable. I had already tried to find the doctor for her father. Even though I despised him, I believed he should live—not rot away in a hospital bed, unable to face his sins. No, he needed to atone. It was only fair after everything he’d done.Saving her father might make Isabel more compliant. More willing to see things my way. At the very least, it would stop the relentless coldness in her eyes whenever she looked at me. There had been a time when she looked at me with warmth, curiosity and attraction. Now, all I saw was suspicion and bitterness. Maybe if I could give her this, she’d stop looking at me like I was the villain in her story.I still remember the day of the accident. The weat
Isabel’s POVThe next morning, I woke up with a strange heaviness in my chest, a sensation I couldn’t quite shake. The weight of everything was pressing down on me—my father’s health, my own secret illness, and the looming presence of Emerson in my life. Today was the day I needed to take back some control. I had to contact Emma and Robert, and I needed to do it discreetly. I reached for the phone Emerson had given me, knowing it was likely monitored, but I had no choice. I had to let my friends know I was safe.I researched Robert’s company, MedTech Innovations, and immediately dialed the number.“MedTech Innovations, good morning. How may I help you?” The secretary answered, her tone professional.I cleared my throat. “Good morning. I need to speak to Mr. Robert Evans, please. It’s urgent. Tell him Isabel is calling.”“Alright, ma’am. One moment please.”The seconds stretched, the silence amplifying my heartbeat. What if he didn’t pick up? What if Emerson had warned him to stay away
Isabel’s POVThe sound of Liam’s delighted squeal sliced through the air. My heart lurched as I saw him wobbling dangerously in his highchair. Without thinking, my body reacted on instinct. I rushed toward him, arms outstretched, as though I could somehow catch him in time.But Emerson was faster and closeby. His reflexes, though weakened by his recent injury, hadn’t dulled enough to let anything happen to his son. He grabbed Liam just before the boy could topple over, pulling him securely into his arms.The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment.Liam was completely unaware of the chaos he had caused. His small face broke into a wide grin. One that exposed his tiny teeth as he clapped his hands, clearly pleased with the attention.My arms, now useless, hung awkwardly at my sides. Embarrassment crawled up my neck like an unwelcome heat. Why had I reacted like that? Why had I leapt into the fray as if I had any right to? This was Emerson’s and Lilith’s child. But before I could mo
Isabel’s POVI froze. The nurse’s cold and detached voice echoed in my mind like a warning bell. My gut twisted with an inexplicable dread. Something was very, very wrong. I tried to get a good look at her face, but her cap and mask obscured her features. Her head was bowed so low I couldn’t even see her eyes.Who was she? Why was she acting so strangely?Fear clawed its way into my chest as I felt my body weakening. My hands trembled, then went limp. A numb heaviness crept through me, making my head swim. My words came out slurred and frantic. “What… did you give me?” My voice barely carried, thin and fragile like paper in the wind.The nurse didn’t answer. Instead, she moved with brisk, calculated efficiency. Her gloved hands gripped me under the arms. Her strength was surprising, almost mechanical. I couldn’t fight back—I could hardly lift a finger. She hoisted me onto a gurney and pulled a white sheet taut over my body. The weight of the fabric against my face felt suffocating.
Isabel’s POVI felt an unsettling unease gnawing at me as the minutes ticked by. Half an hour had passed since Robert had left, and yet Emerson had not returned. That wasn’t like him at all. Emerson rarely left me alone for this long. His overbearing presence was usually a constant shadow. Something was off. My nerves prickled with unease, though I couldn’t pinpoint why.Finally, I decided to step out of the ward and check. Just as I reached the door, it swung open, and Emerson appeared on the threshold. “Oh!” His sudden entrance startled me, and I instinctively stepped back.“Where have you been?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even, though suspicion flickered in my mind.“I got held up on a company call,” he said. His tone was casual, but his expression was anything but. There was a rigidity to his stance, a flicker of something uneasy in his eyes.He’s lying, I thought immediately. But what could it be about? My heart leapt with a mix of curiosity and anxiety. Still, I knew be
Robert’s POVAs I stepped out of Isabel’s ward, I couldn’t quiet the storm of worry inside me. The looming surgery hung like a dark cloud over my thoughts. She was so calm about it, but I couldn’t share her composure.Dr. Leighton had assured me that everything was as prepared as it could be. But the risks were undeniable. Isabel’s condition was fragile. The thought of losing her made my chest tighten. I didn’t want to imagine a world without her. I glanced back toward her door, as though I could will away the danger just by lingering nearby. Despite everything, the fire in her sapphire blue eyes hadn’t dimmed. That fire had drawn me to her all those years ago. And it still burned brightly now, even in her weakest moments.Isabel was a force of nature, enduring so much pain and heartbreak while somehow holding herself together. How could I not still love her? But that love wasn’t simple anymore. Emerson had built walls around her. Walls that were almost impenetrable. Almost.A memor
Isabel’s POVRobert leaned against the wall, arms crossed. His face was a mixture of determination and fatigue. “Dr. Leighton has made all the necessary preparations for your surgery,” he began, his voice steady. “You don’t need to worry about that part.”The words should have been comforting, but a question lingered in my mind. “Was this all instructed by Sebastian?” I asked cautiously, my heart quickening.He nodded. “Yes. Sebastian contacted me weeks ago, in secret. He’s the one who helped me build a connection with Mateo. Without him, none of this would’ve been possible.”I stared at him, the enormity of the situation sinking in. Elias—though for his own safety, I had to call him by his alias—had been working behind the scenes to protect me, even while I’d been cut off from the world. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Why didn’t you try to contact me?” I asked, confusion building in my chest.“I couldn’t risk it,” Robert explained. “Not with Emerson watching your every move.
Isabel’s POVEmerson’s reaction was immediate and explosive. His hand shot out, seizing Robert by the collar with a force that made me flinch. “Are you kidding me?” he roared, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “More than once? You know what craniotomy entails better than anyone!” His eyes burned with fury. But beneath that, I saw something deeper—raw panic, the kind that comes when control slips through your fingers.I pressed my back against the headboard, anxiety rising in my chest. “Emerson, let go of him!” I shouted, but my voice cracked. He was hesitating, though. His grip tightened and loosened as if his emotions were at war.Robert, surprisingly composed, twisted Emerson’s wrist away with a sharp motion. His calmness wasn’t indifference—it was laced with disdain. “Yes, I do know. But that doesn’t change the reality of her situation,” Robert said, his voice sharp as glass. His eyes narrowed. “And if you want to talk about responsibility, let’s discuss how she
Isabel’s POVMy heart sank as I stared into Emerson’s intense gaze. The weight of his words still lingered. I couldn’t afford to risk my friends—not Elias, not Robert, not anyone who had worked so tirelessly to help me. Yet, I also knew the precarious nature of my situation. One wrong move, one slip of truth, and Emerson would tighten his grip in the name of love. He would trap me at his side like a bird in a gilded cage.The thought made my stomach churn. It wasn’t love—it was control, suffocating and inescapable. If he discovered the true extent of my illness, my chances of escaping with Liam would vanish.For Liam, I needed to be free.“Emerson, I—” I began, my voice faltering as doubt crept in. Was I really prepared to keep fighting this battle, knowing how high the stakes were?Before I could say another word, a familiar voice cut through the tension like a blade.“Isa, long time no see!”I whipped my head toward the door, startled. There he was—Robert—leaning casually against th
Isabel’s POVI sat propped up in bed, trying to read Emerson’s expression. He had always been sharp, but I hadn’t expected him to piece things together this quickly. Despite all Robert’s and my attempts to keep the details of the surgery planning under wraps, Emerson had unraveled the threads effortlessly.I shouldn’t have been surprised. He was relentless when it came to matters he cared about. And right now, that matter was me.Still, I didn’t react dramatically. This was Emerson, after all. It was natural for someone as intelligent and observant as him to sense when things didn’t add up. And despite his anger, I knew he wouldn’t jeopardize the efforts of the people working tirelessly to save my life. Whatever his feelings about Robert or Elias—or even Mateo—he wouldn’t risk doing anything that might hurt me. That, I was sure of.Emerson stood stiffly at the foot of my bed, his gaze boring into me. He was waiting for an explanation, but I wasn’t about to offer one on a silver platt
Isabel’s POVMy heart thudded painfully in my chest as Mateo’s words hung in the air. The air in the room was so thick with tension it was hard to breathe. Emerson stood stiffly beside my bed, his face a storm of anger and fear. His voice thundered, breaking the fragile silence.“What?! How could this happen? Didn’t you say the tumor was benign? Or have you been lying all along?!”Dr. Mateo Vargas’s calm demeanor cracked under the strain of Emerson’s fury. “I understand how shocking this is, Sir. However, this is not the time or place for accusations.” He gestured toward me, indicating the fragile state I was in.“I did say it was benign,” Mateo countered, his voice rising. “But I also warned that surgery might become necessary if her condition worsened.”Emerson’s fists clenched, and I feared he might explode. His worry wasn’t misplaced, but it wasn’t helping either. I reached out to him weakly, my fingers brushing against the fabric of his sleeve. “Emerson,” I whispered, my voice b
Isabel’s POVI could feel there was an unspoken chemistry building between Caleb and Margot. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but I could tell that Caleb was starting to focus his attention elsewhere. Maybe it was just my imagination. But I hoped it would take the edge off his lingering feelings for me.It wasn't that I disliked Caleb—he had been a constant presence in my life for so long. Always reliable, always there. But his feelings for me… I was certain they were just an illusion. At least, that’s what I told myself. He was clinging to memories from the past, to a version of me that no longer existed. I believed he would eventually realize what real love looked like, and it certainly wasn’t bound by the past. I didn’t point it out to him; he had to figure it out on his own. Love wasn’t something that could be forced.As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, Emerson returned with food, breaking through the quiet. He didn’t ask what Caleb and I had been talking about, thank