Isla’s POVWhen we reached an empty examination room, he helped me settle onto the bed, moving with a precision and gentleness that surprised me.“Thank you,” I said, still feeling flustered. “Really, you didn’t have to go out of your way…”He did not answer, but simply motioned to a nearby nurse. She willingly came and attended to me, assessing my ankle and setting me up for a quick examination. Mr. Shaw stood nearby, his presence solid, a quiet pillar of strength. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, feeling an odd sense of gratitude mixed with… something else. Curiosity, perhaps. Intrigue. There was a familiarity in his presence, one that I couldn’t quite understand, but it pulled at me all the same.After the nurse finished treating my ankle and wrapped it securely, I gathered my things, preparing to leave. But Mr. Shaw didn’t let me hobble off alone. Before I could protest, he led me to his car waiting outside. I settled into the backseat beside him, trying to maintain a s
Ethan’s POVIsla started murmuring in her sleep, her brow furrowed, her breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. I leaned closer, concern tightening in my chest as I heard the fear in her voice. She sounded so distressed, as if she were trapped in some nightmare she couldn’t escape from. Gently, I brushed a hand along her arm, hoping to ease her mind.But then, she whispered a name—a name I’d hoped I’d never hear from her again.“Logan,” she murmured, her voice filled with desperation.Jealousy twisted inside me, sharp and unexpected. I knew she had a history with him, but hearing her call out for her ex-husband… it stung. Still, I couldn’t blame her. Whatever she’d been through left scars that were hard to heal. And if Logan was a part of her subconscious, still lurking in her dreams, then maybe those wounds hadn’t closed as tightly as I’d thought.She finally settled, her breathing slowing as she drifted into a calmer sleep. I stayed by her side, letting her rest, my hand lingering o
Isla’s POVAfter a busy first hour, I settled into my office, sipping on my morning coffee and attempting to focus on my tasks. My mind kept wandering back to the car ride with Mr. Shaw. There was something about him that felt really familiar, and no matter how many times I brushed it off, the feeling persisted.After a few minutes of distraction, I decided I couldn’t let it go. I rummaged through my drawer, pulling out a newspaper I’d kept from a few months ago with an article about Mr. Shaw. There, in crisp black-and-white, was a photo of him, his profile half-obscured, his expression as serious and enigmatic as ever. Next, I dug out the side-profile photo of Ethan from the donor profile Zoey had given me—one of the few clear photos I had of him.Placing the two images side by side, I squinted, comparing the sharp jawlines, the shape of their brows, the angle of their noses. It’s uncanny, I thought, feeling my heartbeat quicken. But I didn’t trust my own eyes, not with my face blind
Isla’s POV“Perhaps it’s those assumptions that keep us at a distance when, in reality, we might have more in common than we think.”I met his gaze, feeling a strange familiarity as if this wasn’t Mr. Shaw, the untouchable billionaire, but someone else entirely. The thought tugged at me, the hovering suspicion I’d tried to ignore resurfacing. As we continued the drive, I noticed that Mr. Shaw seemed unusually attentive, going out of his way to make sure I was comfortable. When the car pulled up in front of a charming, upscale restaurant, my eyebrows shot up in surprise. I knew this place was nearly impossible to book on short notice, yet here we were.“Uh, why are we stopping here?” I asked, glancing up at the restaurant's soft, inviting lights. “Well, you must be hungry,” he said casually. “I certainly am.”“But…” My voice trailed off, and I felt like there was no point arguing with him. Besides, I was very curious about him. I need to know if it’s really possible that he’s… Befor
Isla’s POVAll I want is a baby.That single thought echoed in my mind like a mantra as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, gripping the cold edge of the sink. I’ve just entered my thirties and time wasn’t exactly on my side. The divorce papers were not even finalized yet, but I’d been emotionally checked out long before that.I wanted more than anything to have a child of my own—something real, something mine. And I was done waiting for the "right time" or the "right person." That ship had sailed.Which was why I’d turned to Zoey for help. She knew I wasn't looking for another love story. I didn’t have the energy for that kind of heartbreak again. What I needed now was genetics—strong, healthy, no strings attached.It must be fate that I have a good friend who works at a fertility clinic, I thought ironically. Just perfect.I needed someone I could trust, someone who understood my desire for discretion and had the resources to help me navigate this delicate process.I
Isla’s POV“Why does it feel like I’m trying to cut off my own arm?”I leaned back in my chair, the plush leather creaking softly beneath me as I stared blankly at the wall. Just a few hours ago, I had finished a successful meeting with Mr. Scott, and I should have felt elated. Instead, my thoughts wandered back to the looming divorce. Thank God I have the ability to separate my personal matters from work. Or at least, I like to think so.With sudden determination, I grabbed my phone and dialed Logan’s number without giving it a second thought. The line rang only once before he picked up, his voice smooth but casual.“Isla. What’s going on? Miss me already?”I felt my jaw drop, but chose to ignore his remark and go straight to the point. “Hey, Logan. The divorce papers are almost ready. When can we meet to sign them with the lawyer?”There was a pause, a brief silence that told me everything I needed to know. I could almost hear the gears turning in his mind. Was he actually trying t
Logan’s POV“She’s serious this time, Logan,” my assistant Owen’s voice broke the silence in my office. I glanced up from the sleek marble desk in front of me. My office reflected the success I had built—a blend of modern luxury and understated power, just like the brands I controlled.“Isla always says things she doesn’t mean,” I replied, leaning back in my chair, my fingers tapping the armrest. Isla was emotional, driven by fleeting impulses. She'll come around. She always does. Owen didn’t look convinced. “She might not be bluffing this time, sir.”I let out a sigh, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Owen, relax. Isla’s just upset. She’s just getting better at putting up a front. She’ll eventually cool off.”“Perhaps,” my assistant said, but he didn’t look convinced. I leaned back on my chair thoughtfully, thinking about the past. “She always wanted a family—her grandfather drilled that into her head. Henry’s probably telling her right now how I’m the only one who can give her tha
Isla’s POVI kicked off my heels the moment I stepped inside, feeling the cool touch of the hardwood floor beneath my bare feet. The mansion—a gift from Grandpa Henry—was grand, every corner polished and perfect. Still, for all its beauty, the place felt empty. Lonely.But I brushed that thought away, determined not to dwell on it. This was my space now, and I was free. There was no one here but the house staff, who kept everything pristine but left me with the silence of the rooms echoing in the background. Silence was better than the chaos Logan had brought into my life. I still choose this. Oh, God. I need this. I padded to the bedroom, pulling my hair loose from its messy knot as I went. The cool air hit my neck, and I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. I paused, tilting my head slightly. I’d always been my worst critic, but tonight… tonight, I looked good. Even I couldn’t deny that.“Not bad, Isla,” I murmured to myself, running a hand through my