Isabel’s POV
Emerson stood before me, scrolling through his phone. His eyes were unreadable. There was something off about the way he looked at me, as if he was doubting whether I spoke the truth. “I don’t see any record of your call,” he finally said.
I wondered if Lilith had hidden it from him. It wouldn't surprise me. She was cunning like that. But that wasn’t what I wanted to discuss. I needed to focus on the real issue.
"When are we signing the agreement?" I asked directly, my voice colder than I intended. I didn't have the luxury to dance around the subject. I needed that money. My father's life depended on it, and so did my own. I watched as Emerson’s expression shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly.
Isabel’s POVAs Emerson turned to leave, his words cut through the air like a knife. “Move out of this house today,” he commanded in a voice as cold as ice. He tossed a set of keys onto the table between us. “If you don’t want Robert to pay a ‘big price’ because of you.”I stared at the keys, my heart pounding. Emerson’s threats always carried weight, and I had no doubt he meant every word. Robert stood beside me, his face contorted with anger. He opened his mouth to retort. But I quickly reached out and touched his arm, silencing him.“I was planning to move out anyway,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I can’t keep burdening you, Robert. I’ll move to the apartment from the
Emerson’s POVThe past few days had been a whirlwind of emotions. Every time I thought of Isabel, my mind spiraled into confusion. Why did she have this effect on me? Why did her presence linger in my thoughts, irritating my nerves and gnawing at my sanity? I had always convinced myself that my feelings for her were nothing more than fleeting remnants of our marriage. But the jealousy and anger that surged within me whenever I saw her with Robert... It made no sense.I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I left Isabel behind in the suburbs, with Robert. Her fragile appearance was burned into my memory. The way she looked at me, as though I were the last person she wanted to see, only fueled my frustration. But beneath that frustration was something deeper—something I refused to acknowledge.The car ride back to the office was tense. My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Lilith. I hesitated before answering, knowing what was coming."Emerson," she purred, her voice
Isabel’s POVI stared at the test results, my hands trembling as I held the paper. Nervous headache? How could this be? Just a headache? The diagnosis felt like a cruel joke, mocking the pain and fear that had plagued me for so long. My mind raced. Did someone tamper with the results? Who could have done it? Lilith? The thought of her involvement sent a chill down my spine. But before I could voice my suspicions, Emerson’s voice cut through my confusion. “Lilith wasn’t the only victim. Your father was a lot worse than you thought.”His words struck me like a slap in the face. I felt the air leave my lungs. What did he mean by that? I searched Emerson’s face for answers, but he only offered a cold, distant expression.“If you want to know the truth,” he said, his tone as icy as his gaze, “why don’t you investigate it yourself?”And with that, he turned and walked away. He left me standing there, clutching the test results in one hand and the divorce agreement in the other.A flood of
Isabel’s POVI hugged myself tightly, curled up on the cold, hard floor of my father’s study. The night seemed endless, each passing hour filled with the suffocating weight of dread. The images of Lilith from my father’s hidden safe haunted me. And there were photos of other young girls too. I kept asking myself the same question over and over: What had my father done? My heart ached as my mind wandered to the darkest corners of possibility. Could my father, the man who had always been my hero, have committed something so unforgivable? I felt sick just thinking about it.When I finally drifted off, my nightmares mirrored my deepest fears. Lilith's face was there, but younger, more innocent. “Your father has done the unspeakable. The unforgivable,” she said. And then, other girls—so many of them—echoed her words. “Unspeakable. Unforgivable.” They all looked terrified. The images swirled around me, trapping me in a whirlwind of horror until I jolted awake. My heart was pounding. I was
Isabel’s POVJulia’s words offered me a glimmer of hope. But I didn’t know if I would ever find out the truth about my father. My time was running out. I could feel the cancer spreading, sapping my strength day by day. My new apartment, a relic from my divorce, became my sanctuary. It was the only luxury I had left. A reminder of a life that seemed like a distant dream. I found a low intensity online job to pay for my medical bills. The work kept my mind occupied, but my health declined rapidly over the next three months.Chemotherapy took its toll. I lost all my hair. I invested in a wig that looked just like the golden hair I once had. But every time I looked in the mirror, I saw a stranger staring back at me. The wig was a small comfort, a way to hold on to a piece of myself. I bought some new clothes for myself. They weren’t nearly as nice as the ones Emerson had once bought for me, but I had lost everything in the fire. The new outfits felt like trying to paint over cracks in a
Isabel’s POVMaybe out of spite, or the deep well of resentment that had built up inside me, I deliberately said my ex-husband had died. I wanted to erase him from my life. To make it as if he never existed. The words slipped out without much thought. A final attempt to reclaim some dignity. But as soon as I spoke to them, a cold voice echoed through the room."Well, that's a pity, Miss White."The room fell silent. My heart stopped. I turned around, wide-eyed and in shock. Emerson stood there, tall and imposing. His icy blue eyes bore into mine. His wavy dark hair and carefully trimmed short beard outlined his strong jawline. He looked every bit the dashing figure I once fell in love with. But there was no warmth in his gaze. Only cold mockery.Beside him, Lilith clung to his arm. Her presence was as calculated as ever. Her beauty was the kind that only money could buy—artificial yet striking. Thick lashes framed her eyes, which were heavily made up with a smoky shadow. It gave her
Isabel’s POVThe room buzzed with the low murmur of conversation and clinking glasses. I sat there, feeling like an unwelcome guest at my own high school reunion. The laughter and chatter seemed to grow louder as the evening wore on. The event had taken quite the unexpected turn with the arrival of Emerson, Lilith and Robert. The question hung in the air. My heart raced, a mix of panic and dread flooding my senses. What was Robert going to say? How was Emerson going to react? The tension in the room was thick, suffocating. I felt trapped between these two men who, in their own ways, had such a hold on my life. My old classmate looked at Robert with a teasing smile. His tone was laced with curiosity. He was obviously unaware of the tension between Robert and Emerson. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Emerson’s gaze darkened and rested on me, waiting for my reply. “Oh, no,” I stammered, waving my hands in a dismissive gesture. “We’re just friends. Please don't make jokes li
Isabel’s POVEmerson’s words sent a jolt of fear through me. “What did you mean? Say it!” Emerson said coldly; his tone sounded intimidating.His eyes were fixed on me. The room seemed to freeze. Multiple pairs of eyes turned my way. The tension was palpable. Everyone seemed to hold its breath as they awaited my response.I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. My heart pounded in my chest. I had fought so hard to keep my illness private. To maintain some semblance of control over my spiraling life. But now, with Emerson’s question hanging in the air, it felt like my carefully guarded secret was about to be exposed.Everyone's eyes were on me, waiting, expecting. I could feel their curiosity. Their desire to unravel whatever it was that I was hiding.I forced myself to meet Emerson’s gaze, trying to maintain a facade of calm. “It’s nothing,” I said. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. I forced a smile, hoping it would deflect his attention. “Just a pe
Isabel’s POVThe stillness of the room pressed on me, amplified by the steady rhythm of Emerson’s breathing behind me. He still wasn’t asleep—I could tell by the occasional shift of his weight and the faint sighs escaping him.He had withdrawn his arm when I didn’t answer, but the proximity between us remained charged. Every so often, his body would shift, brushing against mine—a subtle, fleeting contact that sent ripples through my already frayed nerves. Was it accidental? Or deliberate? I couldn’t be sure, and the ambiguity only made it worse.My body, traitorous as ever, reacted in ways I hadn’t anticipated. The heat of his presence seemed to seep into my skin, igniting a tension I had no desire to acknowledge. It wasn’t fair—after everything, after all the anger and betrayal, how could some unintentional touch unravel me like this?I tried to suppress the swirling emotions, willing myself to focus on anything else. But the way my heart raced, the way my breath hitched in those st
Isabel’s POVSitting on the kitchen table, Emerson still looming over me, my mind spiraled with guilt. Sebastian was locked up, possibly suffering, all because of me. He’d been trying to help me, to protect me, and now he was paying the price. I clenched my fists in my lap, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions.“Isabel.”Emerson’s voice broke through the haze. His sharp gaze fixed on me. His head tilted slightly as if studying a puzzle. “You’re quiet. You look… off. Do you know something you’re not telling me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.My heart skipped a beat. Did he suspect? Could he somehow see through me, past the walls I’d painstakingly built?I met his eyes, masking the turmoil within. “No,” I said, forcing a small, almost casual shrug. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”He didn’t seem entirely convinced. His piercing gaze lingered on me longer than I liked. I bit my lip, weighing my options. If Emerson knew the truth about Sebastian’s private investigation and
Isabel’s POVI turned to Emerson after Caleb left. Exhaustion was weighing on my shoulders like a lead blanket. “I’m really tired, and I have work tomorrow,” I murmured, taking a step toward the stairs. The tension from dinner and everything Caleb had implied was still twisting in my chest. I just wanted to escape. To drift off into blissful ignorance.But before I could get far, Emerson swept me off my feet—literally.“Emerson! What are you doing?!” I protested, squirming against his firm grip as he carried me effortlessly back to the kitchen.Without so much as a word, he placed me on the kitchen table as though I weighed nothing. I struggled to slide off, but his hands settled on either side of me, caging me in.My heart raced, but not entirely from rage. There was something about the way his eyes locked onto mine, unflinching and determined, that threw me completely off balance. I hated how he could do this—how he could ignite a whirlwind of emotions with just a look. How he made
Isabel’s POVCaleb strolled into the room as if he owned the place. A wide grin was plastered across his face. “Are you two done whispering sweet nothings yet? Or should I come back later with popcorn?”Emerson groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Caleb, do you have a radar for bad timing, or is it just a natural talent?”“I like to think of it as a gift,” Caleb quipped, leaning casually against the doorframe.I stifled a laugh despite the tension, my lips twitching into a small smile. Caleb always had a way of breaking even the heaviest silences with his antics.“Come inside,” Emerson said with an exasperated sigh. “If you’re going to interrupt, you might as well eat with us.”The three of us made our way to the dining room, where a simple but elegant dinner awaited. Caleb, ever the opportunist, immediately dug in. He complimented the meal with exaggerated enthusiasm.“This roast? Perfection. I’ve been abroad for so long, I forgot what a proper home-cooked meal tastes like. Kudo
Isabel’s POVEmerson’s hand clamped firmly over Caleb’s mouth. Caleb’s muffled protests only made the moment more absurd. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Emerson? This is your grand strategy? Silencing him like a five-year-old?”Emerson shot me a look, his expression a mix of irritation and weary amusement. “You’d be surprised how much trouble this one can cause when left unchecked,” he muttered.Caleb, never one to miss an opportunity, wriggled free with an exaggerated gasp. “Admit it, you missed me,” he said, his grin wide and cheeky.“Missed you?” Emerson arched an eyebrow. “I’m considering sending you back abroad.”Caleb clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Such gratitude for saving Isabel’s life. You’re lucky I have a forgiving nature.”At the mention of the accident, Emerson’s expression softened. His irritation ebbed, replaced by something quieter, almost regretful. His gaze shifted to me, lingering with a kind of intensity that made my chest tighten.“Are
Isabel’s POVI stared at Caleb, my mind still struggling to process what he had just said. A surprise for his lover? Emerson had said nothing about this, not even hinted at it. The idea clawed at me, a cruel whisper of betrayal I didn’t want to entertain.Recently, his long hours and late nights had seemed justified—he was supposed to be focused on finding Sebastian and Margot. He had painted himself as a man weighed down by duty, by the chaos of the military’s reshuffling. But now? Doubt slithered into my thoughts like a cold wind, chilling my resolve. What if he wasn’t just busy with military upheavals? What if he was lying?I bit my lip, trying to dismiss the growing unease. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that Emerson, for all his faults, could betray me in this way. But hadn’t I learned the hard way not to trust him blindly? My heart and mind were locked in a bitter tug-of-war.Caleb leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His expression softened a
Isabel’s POVAs the minutes ticked by in the hospital room, the tension between Caleb and me ebbed into something softer. As we chatted, the atmosphere became more companionable.He sat at the foot of my bed, his posture relaxed. But his gaze was keen, as if he were cataloging every detail of my face.“So,” he began, breaking the silence, “life abroad wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sure, I learned a lot—business strategies, management, marketing—but the culture there was different. Cold, in a way. You don’t realize how much you miss home until you’re halfway across the world.”I smiled faintly. “And yet, you stayed in Sweden for all these years.”“Well, I had to make it worth it, didn’t I? Prove to myself—and to others—that I could build something meaningful.” He paused, his expression softening. “But I always thought of you, Isabel. I used to wonder how you were doing, what you were up to…”His words hung in the air. I glanced away, suddenly uncomfortable under the weight of his g
Isabel’s POVI turned my head slightly, studying Caleb under the stark fluorescent lights of the hospital room. His features had matured since the last time I’d seen him—his once boyish face now sculpted with sharper lines and a stronger jaw. His brown eyes, though warm, held an intensity I hadn’t seen before. He was attractive, I supposed. But not in a way that stirred anything deeper in me. There was no spark, no pull. Yet, there was something else in his eyes—an air of devotion that felt almost... misplaced.His attention to me was unwavering, his every gesture laced with concern. The way he hovered near my bed, the protective edge in his voice when he questioned the doctor—it was as though he had a personal stake in my well-being. Why was he acting like this? I couldn’t help but wonder.“Caleb,” I said softly, breaking the silence. He turned to me immediately, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of discomfort.“Are you feeling okay? Do you need water? Anything?” His tone was
Isabel’s POV“What did you say? Tumor?!”The voice, rough and loud, jarred me from unconsciousness like a splash of cold water. My head throbbed, a deep ache nestled at the base of my skull, and the rest of my body felt too heavy, as if I’d been weighed down. Blinking against the harsh light, I struggled to sit up. My vision gradually sharpened, and I saw a young man standing by my bedside, facing a doctor with an intensity that seemed both familiar and foreign.“Miss Isabel needs rest,” the doctor murmured with a steady calm, though he cast an uncertain glance between us. “Let’s discuss her condition outside—”“I’ll decide when she can rest,” the man snapped, his tone biting.Who was he? And why was he here?I cleared my throat, though my voice came out hoarse and faint. “Excuse me,” I managed, interrupting the tense exchange. The young man immediately turned. As he looked at me, his expression softened, melting from irritation into something warmer, something… protective.“Isabel,