4

Isadora’s POV

The day Cassian proposed to Alessia, I slipped and fractured my ankle.

Alessia didn’t miss her chance. She burst into my hospital room like a runway model, flashing her engagement ring like it had magical powers.

“Oh my god, Isadora,” she gasped when she saw the cast on my leg. “That looks awful. Is it serious? Will you… fully recover?”

“It’s just a fracture,” I muttered. “Not a tragedy.”

She blinked back a few crocodile tears. “Is it because of us? Did our engagement upset you that much? I—I feel so guilty…” Then, right on cue: “Wait, I’ve got a call.”

She flounced out, leaving her perfume and poison in the air.

Cassian walked in a moment later, face sour like he’d swallowed a lemon. “You just had to find a way to steal the spotlight, didn’t you? On our engagement day.”

“No. I slipped. That’s all,” I said calmly. “I’ve already told you—I don’t like you anymore. I didn’t then. I don’t now.”

But Cassian wasn’t buying it. His jaw twitched. His eyes narrowed.

“Izzy,” Cassian said darkly, his voice a low threat laced in false calm. “I suggest you find a boyfriend of your own and stop inserting yourself into our lives. Don’t harass us again.”

“I already have one,” I said, chin high. “And he’s amazing, thanks for asking.”

“You don’t have to lie. There’s no way you found someone that fast.”

Before I could clap back, Alessia breezed into the room like she was walking onto a catwalk. “What’s all the whispering about?”

“She says she has a boyfriend now,” Cassian said, sliding an arm around her waist like she needed reminding. “Do you believe that, babe?”

Alessia looked at me, her eyes glinting with superiority. “A boyfriend, Izzy? Really?” Her voice dipped with syrupy condescension. “Look, I get it—you’re probably upset about our engagement. But lie about having a boyfriend… ”

Cassian added with a patronizing smile, “I see you like a little sister, you know? I’d take care of you. Just… don’t lie or come between me and Alessia.”

And then—without waiting for my response—they walked out like they’d won something.

Smug. So smug.

…

Here’s the thing: I wasn’t lying.

My gaze drifted to the vase of deep crimson roses sitting on my windowsill—the petals lush, velvety, and unmistakably expensive.

They were from him, my boyfriend.

Turns out, fate has a wicked sense of humor.

Because the man I’d had a one-night stand with at Ruby’s—the one whose face I hadn’t clearly seen under the haze of flashing lights and champagne fog—was none other than Kai Drenner.

The same Kai Drenner my parents had arranged for me to meet.

The man everyone in Manhattan whispered about. The Mafia Lead in coast. Arms empire heir. Quietly terrifying. Devastatingly hot.

When I walked into the café for our “formal introduction,” I knew the second I saw him. And from the way his lips curved in amusement, so did he.

My face flushed hotter than I could hide.

He leaned in, voice teasing. “Shy now? You didn’t seem so shy that night.”

“I thought you were just… a really hot guy who worked there,” I admitted.

He shrugged. “I do work there. I just never said I wasn’t the boss. You didn’t ask.”

That was fair.

He studied me for a beat, then murmured, “If it hadn’t been me… who would’ve been lucky enough to have you that night?”

“None,” I said, meeting his gaze. “Not every man can catch my attention.”

That smile—that dangerous smile—spread across his face. “Be my girlfriend, Isadora. Let me take care of you.”

And I said yes. And that was why I slipped and broke the ankle. I missed a step on my date with Kai.

…

Once I was out of the hospital, I started spending more time with Kai. Dinners. Drives. Stolen kisses that left me breathless.

Coming home late became routine. I liked it that way.

But one night, when I walked in—glowing from the most romantic rooftop dinner in SoHo—I found Cassian on the living room sofa. Arms folded. Jaw locked.

“Where have you been?” he asked, voice tight.

I blinked. “I didn’t realize I had a curfew.”

“It’s midnight,” he snapped. “You live under this roof. Maybe act like it.”

I shrugged off my coat, breezing past him. “You’re not my father, Cassian. Why do you care?”

I tried to slip past him again, but Cassian stepped in front of me, his eyes locked on my neck—sharp, possessive, burning.

Then he spoke, low and dangerous. “Is that… a kiss mark?”

I paused. Turned slightly, catching the glimpse of it in the hallway mirror—a bold, red stain just beneath my collarbone.

Kai. Of course.

I met Cassian’s gaze head-on. “Yep. My boyfriend put it there. So what?”

I didn’t owe him anything. Not explanations or permission.

A flush crept across Cassian’s cheekbones.

Without another word, I walked past him and disappeared into my room, the soft click of the door sealing him out—and me in.

…

For the next few days, peace returned to the house.

Or so it seemed.

Until one morning, as I stepped out of my room, still half-asleep and heading toward the kitchen for coffee—Cassian appeared.

No warning or hello. Just fury.