Lilith's real identity is a key clue, guess what she'll do?
Isabel’s POVThe sterile hospital lights cast a harsh glare in the waiting area. My heart pounded in my chest as I sat beside Michael, Emerson’s anxious secretary. We had just watched as Lilith was taken away by the powerful Mr. Montrose.“More to what?” I asked in response to Michael’s muttering. Though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.He only shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. “Never mind. Let’s focus on Mr. Williams for now.”But his words, “There must be more to this,” lingered in my mind, fueling the growing sense of unease in my gut. Something was wrong here. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.The silence between us was suffocating. I shifted uneasily in the hard plastic chair, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of events.Michael looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. His usually meticulous appearance was disheveled. His tie was askew, and his eyes were darkened with fatigue. He glanced at me occasionally, his expression filled with worry.
Isabel’s POVAs Emerson was fighting for his life, my heart sank deeper than I thought possible. I felt weighed down by conflicting emotions. I couldn’t quite explain the ache that spread across my chest. Emerson had betrayed me. He had shattered our marriage, gave up on me and our baby, and got engaged to the woman who destroyed everything. He even tried to ruin my father, driving him to the brink of despair. Wasn’t this supposed to be his retribution? A car accident—a twist of fate—should have felt like some kind of cosmic justice.I should be happy. Or at the very least, I should feel some satisfaction. But somehow, my heart still hurts.Suddenly, the familiar stabbing pain began to claw at my head. “Oh no, not now…” I thought to myself.The dull throb quickly escalated into a full-blown headache. I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to take the pain away. But it only intensified. I hadn’t brought any medication with me."I’ll be right back," I muttered, not waiting for Micha
Isabel’s POVRelief washed over me. Emerson was alive. He had made it through the surgery. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but my breath came a little easier knowing he hadn’t died."Can we see him?" Michael's voice broke the silence. He looked pale, his hands trembling slightly. The doctor's face softened in response. He hesitated. "Only for a short while. His vitals are still unstable, so we can’t have too many stimuli around."We followed the doctor down the dimly lit hallway, my heart racing with every step. The antiseptic smell of the hospital seemed stronger here, adding to the disorientation. We stopped at a small, private room at the end of the hall. The door creaked open, and there he was—Emerson, lying so still in the bed. He looked nothing like the man who had torn through my life with aggression and arrogance. Now, he was hooked up to machines. Tubes were snaking around his body. His head was wrapped in bandages. His face, usually so full of life and power, seemed fra
Isabel’s POVI stood by Emerson’s bedside. My heart was racing as my fingers hovered over the oxygen tube. It was right there, inches from my hand. One tug, one moment of weakness, and it would be over. I wouldn’t have to endure the agony he kept causing me. The betrayal. The abandonment. The countless nights spent crying alone while he rebuilt his life without me.I could be free.But as I moved closer, something stopped me. My hand shook, and instead of pulling the tube, it fell to my side. I stumbled back, clenching my fists, furious at myself. I hated him—God, I hated him. But I hated myself more. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take his life, no matter how much pain he caused me.What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be strong, cold-hearted, like he was? I bit my lip, fighting back tears. I tried desperately to push away the memories of his touch, his smile. The things I missed. Even though I swore to never let myself feel that way again.“God, Emerson. Why did you have to ruin
Isabel’s POVWhen I opened my eyes, the world around me had shifted. The sterile, whitewashed walls of the private hospital were gone. They were replaced with a dull, muted gray. The beeping machines were replaced by eerie silence, punctuated by distant murmurs and the occasional shout. My heart raced as I realized something was terribly wrong.I tried to move, but my wrists and ankles were restrained. Thick leather straps bound me to the bed. They were too tight, cold and unyielding against my skin. Panic surged through me. But I bit it back, trying to stay calm. Where was I? What had happened?A strange, unsettling laugh filled the room. I turned my head to see a woman in the bed next to mine. Her hair was a mess of tangles. Her eyes were wide and wild, darting around as if she saw something I couldn’t. "Ha ha ha! Another idiot!" she shrieked. Her laughter was maniacal, echoing through the small room.My blood ran cold. I wasn’t in a normal hospital. I was in a mental institution.
Isabel’s POVI followed the nurse down the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Each step felt like walking into a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. My feet were bare. The cold tiles sent shivers up my spine. The thin hospital gown clung to my body, offering no warmth, no protection. Even my wig was gone. I felt stripped, vulnerable and exposed. As if everything that made me Isabel had been taken away. I had nothing but my fear.We reached a small consultation room. The moment I stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me with a loud click. I spun around, heart racing. But the door was locked. I was trapped, again.My breath quickened, panic rising in my chest. The room was stark, bare. No windows. No escape. My reflection flickered in the glass of a single hanging light above the desk. I looked like a ghost, pale and gaunt. A shadow of the woman I used to be.Moments later, the door creaked open again. A doctor in a white coat walked in, followed closely by a nurse. I wanted to scream, to
Isabel’s POVWhen I woke up again, the first thing I felt was the tight pressure of the restraint belts pinning my wrists and ankles to the bed. My head was throbbing. My body felt weak, drained of any strength.I groaned, turning my head to the side. I winced at the sharp pull from the IV drip embedded in the back of my hand. A thin tube snaked from the needle into a bag of clear liquid hanging beside me. Nutrient solution, maybe—but who knew what they were feeding into my system? Poison? Drugs? Something to keep me weak and docile?The thought sent a chill down my spine. My heart was thudding in my chest like a trapped bird, desperate to escape. I pulled weakly against the restraints, but they held firm. I was tied down like a lab rat waiting to be experimented on. My mouth felt dry. My lips were chapped from whatever sedative they'd forced into me earlier.What did they want from me? Why was I here? I hadn’t even had a chance to figure it out before they drugged me again. But I wa
Isabel’s POVThe nurse approached me with unnerving calm. Her blonde hair was meticulously styled beneath her cap, not a single strand out of place. Her face was almost unnaturally symmetrical—high cheekbones, a straight nose, and full lips. On the surface, she was beautiful. In a way that seemed too perfect, too calculated. But there was an eerie stillness to her movements. A cold precision in the way she glided across the room that made my skin crawl. Her pale blue eyes, though framed by soft lashes, lacked any warmth. They didn’t seem to see me as a person, but as an object to be controlled. A chill ran down my spine as I realized there was something deeply off about her. Every instinct screamed at me to be cautious, to watch her every move. Her beauty, so flawlessly constructed, felt more like a mask. Hiding whatever lay beneath. Whatever it was, I knew I had to tread carefully. She wasn’t just a nurse. She was something far more dangerous.Her hands were steady as she held out
Isabel’s POV“Captivity, huh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.“Exactly,” he said, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “While the evil lord of the manor is away, I’m here to whisk you off to freedom.”His words were clearly meant as a joke, but I couldn’t ignore the subtle jab at Emerson. “And where exactly are you planning to whisk me off to?”“You’ll see.” Caleb’s tone turned mysterious. “But it’s somewhere you’ll love, I promise.”I hesitated. Spending time with Caleb felt like a risk. He had always been a wild card, unpredictable and charming in equal measure. And with the complicated web of tension between Emerson and me, getting too close to his cousin felt... inappropriate.“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said. “Besides, there’s Liam to consider. I can’t just leave him here.”As if summoned by my words, the maid came rushing out, taking Liam in her arms. She looked flustered, apologizing profusely for not hearing the doorbell.“It’s all right,” Caleb said with a sunny smi
Isabel’s POVI forced a laugh, trying to brush off her comment. “I think you’re imagining things,” I said lightly, but the words felt hollow.The maid smiled apologetically. “Perhaps. I didn’t mean anything by it, miss.”At first, it felt absurd—laughable even. Liam was Emerson and Lilith’s child; that was an undeniable fact. But as the seconds ticked by, something darker, more insidious, began to creep into my thoughts.“That’s ridiculous,” I said aloud, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince her or myself.The maid gave me a sheepish smile, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry, Miss. It’s just something I noticed. His eyes, maybe? Or his smile? I didn’t mean anything by it.”Her apology only heightened my unease. “It’s fine,” I replied curtly, waving her off.But the seed was planted. My gaze drifted down to Liam, who sat in my lap, staring up at me with a toothy grin. His eyes sparkled with innocence, as if he was oblivious to the storm brewing in my mind.Could it be true?I sh
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