Isabel’s POVEmma and Robert were my constant support during my chemotherapy. They made the unbearable bearable. Their friendship was like a comforting balm. Emma, ever the optimist, often suggested I start a new relationship. Her own new crush seemed to have reignited her belief in love.One evening, as we sat together, her phone buzzed incessantly. Annoyance flashed across her face as she checked the messages.“What’s wrong?” I asked, noticing her frown.“Alex invited me to a party. He wants me to meet his friends. But I don’t want to go. We’re not even dating,” she replied, sounding frustrated.“Why don’t you give it a try? You might have fun,” I encouraged her, though I wasn’t feeling very social myself.Emma’s eyes lit up with an idea. “Isabel! Let’s go together!”“Me? I’m not used to these kinds of occasions,” I protested.“Come on! Just accompany me. You don’t want your friend to be lonely, do you?”Reluctantly, I agreed. Her excitement was infectious. She dragged me to her spac
Isabel’s POVI couldn’t believe Emerson would do such a crazy thing! Could he really be so ruthless? Would he really hurt Robert out of jealousy? My mind raced, trying to comprehend the chaos unfolding around me.“Tell me, did you do it or not?” My voice shook with anger and disbelief.Emerson's eyes were hard as steel. “You care about him so much, huh? Do you love him?” he sneered. “Let me guess the status of your relationship. Hug? Kiss? Or have you already slept together?”“Shut up! Don’t use your nasty thoughts to insult us. Robert never crossed the line! He’s my oldest friend from primary school, you bastard!” I retorted, my voice rising with each word. “Stop the car right now or I’ll jump out!”Emerson’s face darkened, and he immediately locked the car doors. “Don’t move. It’s not him,” he growled.I turned around again, my heart pounding. My eyes scanned the scene outside. As I looked out of the rear window, I found that a strange man had already gotten out of the car. Relief wa
Isabel’s POVSlapping Emerson was not something I ever imagined myself doing. Yet the sound of my hand hitting his cheek echoed through the bathroom. His head jerked to the side. For a moment, he looked utterly stunned. “Isabel!” His eyes were wide with a mix of shock, anger and pain. He stepped back as if I had splashed cold water on his face.I stormed out of the room. He ran after me. “Isa, wait!” I turned around to face him. He seemed to have sobered up instantly. A clarity appeared in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. His lips moved, but whatever he wanted to express was trapped within."I'm going to sleep in the second bedroom tonight," I said, my voice trembling. "Take a break, we can talk tomorrow morning." Emerson nodded silently and walked away, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.What did he want from me? Had he gone completely insane? His actions were erratic, and his emotions seemed to swing wildly
Isabel’s POV:Emerson stared at me, his brows furrowed. He was thinking of my words as if he were wrestling with a difficult problem. His eyes were intense, almost desperate. “You won’t die... I won’t let you die. Never. I’ll be with you,” he declared. His voice was unsteady, but filled with an unexpected determination.I looked at him in disbelief. This couldn’t be real. “You’re drunk. Alcohol makes you lose your mind,” I said, shaking my head. “Didn’t you forget you already have Lilith and Liam?”His expression shifted to one of pain. He murmured, almost to himself, “Oh... yeah... I have them.”I felt a flicker of hope die within me. “Do you still think you want me?” I asked, not expecting a genuine answer.“I...” He started to speak, but then his knees buckled. He almost fell.I caught him and guided him to the bed. He groaned and collapsed onto it. He quickly slipped into unconsciousness. As I watched him sleep, I felt a mixture of sorrow and confusion. What did he truly want fro
Emerson’s POVI walked into the bar at my friend Alex's party. I needed to vent my negative emotions. The looming divorce had annoyed me for many days, gnawing at my peace. I was grateful for his invitation. The bar seemed like the best place to go. The thumping bass of the music and the clinking glasses should have been a distraction. But my mind was elsewhere. Thoughts of Isabel and our unraveling relationship overwhelmed me. I had some shots, trying to numb my confused feelings.Suddenly, I caught sight of a familiar face. Could it be? I made my way up closer through the crowd, and… There she was - Isabel! I was shocked. What was she doing in a place like this?She looked drunk. She was teetering on the edge of her stool with a drink in hand. I never thought she would be at this type of party. But tonight, she was here, and she looked... different. Her sweet smile and flushed cheeks made her seem almost ethereal under the bar's neon lights. Her golden hair waved around her beauti
Isabel’s POVEmerson's voice was cold and demanding over the phone. "Why is there hair all over the bathroom? Are you cutting your hair for some strange hobby?" His voice was thick with doubt.My heart raced as I tried to come up with an explanation. I couldn't let him know the truth. "Maybe it's from your new mistress," I retorted sarcastically, hoping to deflect his suspicions. The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Then, with a frustrated huff, he hung up. I hoped he wouldn’t obsess over this issue any more. But knowing Emerson, I doubted he would let it go easily.The after-effects of chemo were relentless. My body felt like it had been through a war. Nausea, fatigue, and aching joints were my constant companions. My hair thinned more each day, falling out in clumps. I dreaded the day I would have no hair left at all.I had to run some errands on my way home. At the supermarket, I felt weak and insecure. Each step felt heavier than the last. I caught a glimpse of
Emerson’s POVToday, a strange feeling of unease gnawed at me. Why did I feel so terrible? Perhaps it was the weather. Stuffiness and gloom hung in the air, casting a shadow over everything. I needed some fresh air to shake off this terrible feeling. I dialed my mother’s number. The phone rang a few times before she answered.“Hello, Emerson! How are you, dear?” Her voice was warm and cheerful.“Hi, Mom. I was wondering if I could come over for a visit and pick up Liam,” I said, trying to sound happy despite the strange turmoil inside.“Oh, of course! We’d love to see you. Your father will be glad to see you too,” she replied. “I’ll get our private chef started on making some delicious pastries. I know how much you love them.”“Thanks, Mom. I’ll be there soon,” I said, feeling a small smile tug at my lips. She had a habit of treating me as if I were still a boy.“Drive safely, Emerson. We can’t wait to see you,” she said before we hung up.Lilith had gone traveling with her close fri
Isabel’s POVAs I slowly regained consciousness, I realized I was no longer surrounded by smoke or flames. Instead, I was in a luxury Porsche Panamera. The soft leather seat beneath me and the quiet hum of the engine were a surreal contrast to the chaos I’d just escaped. I glanced around. I tried to piece together what had happened, when my eyes landed on Emerson. He was driving. His face was tight with concentration and—was that pain? Cold sweat dotted his forehead. His jaw clenched as if he were trying to keep himself together.What on earth happened? I looked down at myself, taking in the soot-stained clothes, the scrapes, and burns on my skin. The memories of the fire came rushing back. Emma's apartment, the smoke, the panic. And then, like a flash, I realized who must have pulled me out of that inferno. Emerson. But why? Everything was a blur. The confusion made my head spin.I stared at him, trying to make sense of it all. But he avoided my gaze. His silence felt heavy. I was
Isabel’s POVI stared at Dr. Vargas, the words he had just spoken reverberating through my chest. My heart raced with a mix of confusion and dread. “Is Sebastian in danger?” My voice wavered as the question escaped my lips before I could stop it. The image of Elias flashed in my mind—him slipping away from my view, his enigmatic presence lingering just long enough to stir unease.Dr. Vargas nodded solemnly, a flicker of something unspoken in his gaze. “Yes, he is. But Sebastian’s not one to back down. He’ll find a way to get back at the traitors, no matter what. You shouldn’t be worrying about him right now.” His voice was steady, but his eyes searched my face for something I wasn’t sure I could give. “Focus on your own survival, Isabel. Take care of yourself.”His eyes were sharp, but there was a layer of weariness beneath them. He wasn’t just giving advice—he was issuing a warning. A warning that the path we were all walking was fraught with peril. What Dr. Vargas really meant wa
Isabel’s POVThe tension in the room was suffocating. Emerson’s sudden outburst had left both Caleb and me startled, and the air buzzed with unanswered questions.“Emerson,” Caleb said, his voice steady but laced with concern, “what’s going on? You’re acting like we’re in the middle of a war zone.”Emerson was already moving, grabbing my belongings with frantic urgency. “We don’t have time for questions, Caleb. We need to get Isabel out of here. Now.”“Emerson!” I snapped, forcing as much authority into my voice as I could muster. “Stop. You can’t just uproot me like this without explaining. What’s happening?”His jaw tightened, his eyes darting toward the window as if he expected danger to come crashing through at any moment. He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck before finally meeting my gaze.“I saw a man,” he said, his voice low. “He was in the hallway earlier, wearing a coat with Alistair’s family badge embroidered on it.”My breath caught in my throat. “Alistair’s badge
Isabel’s POVI couldn’t shake the unease settling in my chest. Margot was giving out her contact information—was she being careless, or had she judged Caleb trustworthy? Did she know he was connected to me? It seemed unlikely, but Margot was sharp. Perhaps too sharp to let something like that slip by accident. Still, the possibility worried me. She’d suffered enough already, and the thought of her inadvertently drawing danger closer made my stomach twist.“Her name?” Caleb repeated, frowning slightly. He scratched his head, looking sheepish. “Well, uh… no. She didn’t tell me. Said she wanted to keep a sense of mystery.” His face lit up with a wry grin. “An interesting girl, though. Made me feel like I was the one being studied.”He chuckled, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice. Caleb was many things, but overly confident wasn’t one of them. He seemed to be replaying the encounter in his head, wondering if he’d done something wrong—or maybe if he hadn’t been charming enough.I
Isabel’s POVCaleb’s casual words sent a jolt through me. My heart raced, and I felt the blood drain from my face. A blind girl in the area—what were the chances? Could it be?I forced myself to act natural, masking my growing unease. "A blind girl?" I asked lightly. "What was she like?"He tilted his head, trying to recall. "She had this serene presence, you know? Like she’d figured something out about life the rest of us haven’t. She was wearing big sunglasses and a hat—kept her face pretty covered—but she had a radiant smile. Oh, and her voice… it was kind of unforgettable. Gentle but strong. She seemed so at peace."His words struck a chord deep inside me. It had to be her. Caleb was oblivious to my inner turmoil and continued, "Oh, wait, I think I have a picture.""A picture?" My voice cracked slightly, but Caleb didn’t notice."Yeah, it’s funny, actually. I took a selfie in the flower shop—don’t ask, I was bored—and she accidentally ended up in the background. That’s how I notic
Isabel’s POV"Doctor, you can't be serious. Surgery?" Emerson's voice cracked slightly as his gaze darted between me and Dr. Vargas. He looked more terrified than I had ever seen him. As though the word itself could unravel him.Dr. Vargas cleared his throat, his professional demeanor steady. “Surgery is one option, but only if the tumor progresses to a stage where it becomes necessary. For now, we focus on non-invasive methods and assess as we go.”Before Emerson could spiral any further, I placed a hand on his arm. “Emerson, stop. It’s not as dire as you’re making it out to be.”He turned to me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Not dire? Isa, this is brain surgery we’re talking about!”I sighed, pulling his hand away from his temples where he had been rubbing in frustration. “Tumors often require removal. It’s standard, not catastrophic. I’m just preparing for all possibilities. That doesn’t mean you need to overreact.”Emerson looked at the report in his hand, his brow furrowed deeply
Isabel’s POVThe idea had planted itself in my mind and taken root: if I didn’t make it, at least parts of me could still be used to help the people I loved. My eyes, for example. Thinking I might be able to help Margot see again was a small consolation. But it gave me a sliver of peace amidst the chaos of everything else.Dr. Vargas noticed my hesitation as I stared at the clipboard in his hands. He set his pen down, folding his hands in front of him with a small, regretful smile.“I’m afraid not, Miss White.”Confusion flickered across my face. “What do you mean?”His gaze softened, as though he were breaking unwelcome news. “Sebastian specifically instructed me to reject any notions of… self-sacrifice on your part. He made it very clear.”The corners of my mouth twitched into a weak smile as I leaned back in the chair. My arm came up to cover my watery eyes. “Of course, he did. He’s always so thoughtful. Too thoughtful.”Guilt crept in, knotting my stomach. I couldn’t even do this
Isabel’s POV"Margot… She's gone blind? No, it can't be..." I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My voice sounded small, fragile—unlike me. I sat frozen in the sterile chemo room. The faint hum of the IV machine was the only sound filling the silence.Dr. Vargas’s calm expression didn’t waver, but I could see the weight of his words reflected in the lines of his face. “I’m afraid it’s true.”It felt like a punch to my chest. Margot. Strong, fierce Margot. The woman who once shielded me when I couldn’t stand on my own. Gone blind. The thought sent my mind spinning. My body stiffened against the recliner’s cold leather. My pulse thudded in my ears. I could barely hear my own voice when I croaked out the next question.“Why? How? What… what happened to her?”Dr. Vargas shifted slightly, his demeanor remaining professional but gentler now. “When Sebastian and Margot escaped from the barracks, they ran into pursuers. The men didn’t recognize them, but they assume
Isabel’s POV“Good night, Isa,” Emerson murmured softly, his voice barely audible against the hum of the hospital room.His arm was draped heavily across me, a tangible reminder of his presence—of the way he had suddenly taken root in my life, like an unmovable fixture. I stared at the ceiling, every muscle in my body stiff with tension. Emerson’s breathing deepened, slipping into the steady rhythm of sleep. For him, the night offered rest, an escape from the heaviness of reality. For me, it brought nothing but suffocating silence and a restless mind that refused to slow.I shifted carefully, desperate not to wake him as his arm slid off me. My thoughts began to swirl, looping endlessly over the events of the past few days. The false report. The sudden intervention. The mysterious way the treatment was unfolding. None of it added up.It must’ve been Elias’ doing..I closed my eyes, a small spark of clarity lighting up my confusion. The false report, the sudden involvement of the ho
Isabel’s POVThe days that followed blurred into one long, stifling vigil. Emerson was by my side almost constantly, hovering over me like I was made of delicate glass. His anxiety was palpable in every move he made, every glance he threw my way. It was suffocating. I woke up to find him perched on the edge of a chair, his brows furrowed as he scanned my face for signs of discomfort. At night, I felt his shadow in the room as he got up repeatedly, leaning over me to ensure I was still breathing.At first, I tried to tell myself that his actions came from a place of care. But soon his obsession began to wear on me. Every time he touched my hand or straightened my blanket, I felt a wave of frustration rise within me. This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted him to know about my condition. This endless vigilance and control—this reminder of my fragility—was more than I could handle.One afternoon, after yet another restless nap interrupted by Emerson’s incessant fussing, I snapped. “Emerso