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 POVAs we drove toward Emerson’s villa, I couldn’t shake the growing confusion gnawing at me. Why was he so obsessed with my illness? The man who had shattered my heart, who had chosen someone else over me, was now determined to drag me to his private doctor. It was absurd, almost laughable. The same man who had betrayed our marriage was now so concerned about his ex-wife. I didn’t know whether to be angry, amused, or just plain tired of the emotional rollercoaster he kept putting me on.“Stop the car,” I demanded, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.Emerson didn’t even glance my way. “Don’t be stubborn, Isabel,” he said, his tone as cool and unyielding as ever. “We’re almost there.”I clenched my fists in my lap. Frustration bubbled up inside me. “I don’t need your help, Emerson. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”He ignored me. His focus was fixed on the road. “Eric will be there with the doctor. I want to see what’s wrong with you,” he said, as if
Isabel’s POVI returned to the bedroom. My hands were trembling as I tried to mask the storm of emotions raging inside me. The email I had just seen haunted my thoughts. "Evidence of Allen White’s crimes”... What were they talking about? Had Emerson been behind my father’s downfall all along? Yet here he was, injured because he risked his life to save me. It didn’t make any sense.I took a deep breath and forced my expression into something neutral. Emerson was still where I left him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless. His back was full of deep gashes and burns. The sight of the wounds stirred something in me—a mix of pity and anger. If he hated my father so much, why would he save my life?“Let’s get this over with,” I said quietly. I approached him with the first-aid kit in hand.He didn’t say a word, just nodded and turned his head away. I started to clean his wounds. My touches were as gentle as possible despite the turmoil inside me. My mind kept drifting back to that em
Isabel’s POVI felt the panic rising in my chest as I rushed to the maid’s quarters. My heart pounded with each step. “Get the private doctor,” I ordered, my voice shaking. “Tell him it’s urgent. Emerson has a fever, and it’s bad.”The maid sensed the urgency and ran to make the call. I returned to the bedroom, where Emerson lay in bed. His face was flushed. Beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead. His breathing was ragged. “Emerson? Please, stay with me…” I said as I sat by his side.He mumbled incoherently, caught in a feverish daze. I tried to calm myself, but it was difficult seeing him like this. He looked so vulnerable. So unlike the man I had known all these years. His wound, his fever, it was all my fault. He saved me from the fire, and now he was dealing with the consequences.There was a gentle knock on the bedroom door. It was the maid. “The doctor is on his way. But the only one available at this time lives on the other side of Rivermont,” she explained. It would tak
Isabel’s POVAs I sifted through the files on Emerson's laptop, my hands trembled. Among the documents about my father's company, I had found something that made my blood run cold. There were photos of Lilith, drunk and tearful, leaning her head on my father’s shoulder. I was shocked.What? Lilith and my father? When had they even met? He had never told me about her… My mind raced, trying to piece together a timeline that made sense. But the more I thought about it, the less sense it made.In the same folder, I discovered detailed reports about my father’s personal information, his business dealings, and the company’s financial crisis that led to its eventual bankruptcy. Emerson had been investigating him, probably for years. He knew everything from the very beginning. My stomach churned with nausea. Had our marriage been built on a foundation of lies? Was it all just a way to get back at my father? Had I been nothing more than a pawn in a twisted game? Did Emerson… never love me at
Isabel’s POVI never imagined Emerson could muster such strength in his weakened state. Maybe it was I who was the weaker one. Caught off guard, I was pushed down by him. My body hit the cold, hard floor with a force that knocked the wind out of me.The impact sent a nearby glass tumbling from the table. It shattered against the floor. Before I could react, sharp shards dug into my skin. A cry of pain escaped my lips, piercing through the tense silence.The sound seemed to snap Emerson out of his rage. His eyes widened in shock. He looked at me as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked up at him. The man I had once loved and admired more than anyone. The man who had hurt and betrayed me, more than anyone.
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