The mansion was silent except for the faint sound of the city humming outside. Isla stood near the window, arms crossed over her chest as she gazed at the endless Manhattan skyline. The night stretched before her like a vast, open road—a road she wished she could escape down, far from the chaos of Killian Blackwood.The tension between them had been unbearable since the gala. Every interaction was a battlefield. He had ignored her for days, but his presence still loomed, an ever-present storm ready to unleash its fury. The sound of approaching footsteps made her straighten, but she refused to turn around. She already knew who it was. "You’ve been avoiding me," Killian’s voice was deep, controlled, yet there was a rough edge to it. Isla scoffed, still not looking at him. "That’s ironic, coming from the man who ignores me whenever it’s convenient."A sharp exhale. "That night at the gala—"She finally turned, her gaze meeting his with defiance. "What about it?" His jaw clenched. "Ni
The morning light streamed through the expansive windows of Isla’s room, but there was no warmth in it. She sat at the dining table, stirring her untouched coffee as her mind churned with unease. The kiss with Killian had left a wound, one she hadn't been able to bandage no matter how much she tried to convince herself that it meant nothing. It had meant something. She had seen it in his eyes—conflict, regret, something deeper he refused to name. But none of that mattered anymore, not after what she had just discovered.Her phone sat on the table, the screen still displaying the news article that had shattered the fragile illusion she had been clinging to. **Killian Blackwood and Celeste Sinclair: Manhattan’s Power Couple Still Going Strong**The headline alone was enough to send a cold chill down her spine. The article detailed an alleged private meeting between Killian and Celeste at an exclusive venue, and though the details were vague, the accompanying picture wasn’t. Killian
Isla sat in the darkness of her room, the only source of light coming from the city skyline outside. The vast metropolis stretched before her, alive with flickering lights and distant sirens, but she felt nothing—just a numb emptiness settling deep in her bones. Her hands clenched into fists on her lap as she replayed the scene with Killian over and over in her mind.He had lied to her. Again.She should have expected it. Killian Blackwood was not a man who dealt in honesty. He was cold, calculated, and only ever did things that served his own interests. And she? She had been a fool—a fool who had let him get close enough to hurt her not once, but twice.Never again.A knock at the door startled her. Her first instinct was to ignore it, but then a familiar voice echoed through the quiet space.“Isla, open the damn door.”Killian.A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Of course, he would come. Of course, he would try to smooth things over with that same cold, detached logic he always used.
Isla’s heels echoed against the marble floor as she stepped into Blackwood Enterprises. Her spine was stiff, her chin lifted high as if the weight of her heartbreak hadn’t crushed her the night before. Killian’s betrayal was still fresh in her mind. The image of Celeste standing beside him, her fingers possessively gripping his sleeve, replayed like a cruel joke. He had lied. Lied about the engagement being over. Lied about wanting Isla in any way that mattered. Yet, here she was. She had convinced herself that she was here for closure—for control over her own narrative. But deep down, a part of her knew she was drawn to the flame, even though she had already been burned. The receptionist looked startled as Isla stormed past her desk without so much as a glance. She didn’t need an appointment. She was his wife—secret or not. She had every right to demand answers. The doors to Killian’s office were shut, but that didn’t deter her. With a firm push, she burst inside, her pulse ha
The evening air was thick with unspoken words as Isla sat in the dimly lit library of the Blackwood estate. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows along the mahogany bookshelves. She had buried herself in a book, hoping that the fictional world would offer some solace from the chaos of her reality, but her mind kept drifting back to Killian. The way he had kissed her. The way he had pulled away. The way he had shattered whatever fragile understanding had begun to form between them. She hated him for it. And she hated herself for letting him affect her so deeply. A sharp knock at the door startled her. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, revealing the one person she was trying to avoid. Killian. He stepped inside, his imposing presence filling the room instantly. Dressed in a tailored black suit, his stormy blue eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. There was something different about him tonight—som
The tension in the Blackwood estate was suffocating, an invisible force pressing against Isla’s chest as she paced the length of her bedroom. Sleep had been impossible, her mind a tangled mess of emotions and memories. Killian’s words from earlier echoed in her head, leaving her restless and on edge. *You think I don’t want you? You think I don’t fight every damn day to keep my hands off you?* Her stomach twisted at the memory, at the raw hunger in his voice, the way his fingers had ghosted against her cheek before he had shut himself off again. It was maddening—the way he ignited something inside her only to douse it in cold indifference moments later. A sudden knock on her door made her freeze. For a brief second, she debated ignoring it. But deep down, she already knew who it was. Taking a deep breath, she strode toward the door and pulled it open. Killian stood there, dressed in another perfectly tailored suit, though his tie was loosened, his top button undone. His eyes,
The heavy silence that stretched between them was deafening. Isla’s breath came in shallow bursts as she locked eyes with Killian, trying to read the emotions swirling beneath the surface of his cold exterior. But Killian Blackwood was an enigma, a man who had mastered the art of hiding his true feelings behind a carefully curated mask. Yet tonight, standing in the dim glow of the Blackwood estate, there was a shift. A crack in his armor. And Isla wasn’t sure if she was ready for what lay beneath. Killian took a slow step forward, his towering presence making the air between them thick with tension. Isla clenched her hands into fists at her sides, willing herself to remain unaffected, but her traitorous body reacted to him in ways she wished it wouldn’t. “You should go inside,” he murmured, his voice carrying an edge of restraint. She lifted her chin defiantly. “Why? So you can keep running from whatever this is?” His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he was on the
The city skyline stretched endlessly before Isla as she stood on the balcony of the Blackwood estate, her fingers gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles turned white. The night breeze carried the faint scent of rain, cool against her skin, but nothing could cool the fire raging inside her. Killian had left her raw, exposed, and for the first time in her life, powerless. She had never allowed anyone to have such an effect on her, but here she was—twisting and unraveling beneath his touch, his words, his cold, distant gaze that somehow burned her more than any flame ever could. "You should be careful standing out here alone," a deep voice drawled from behind her. Isla stiffened, her heartbeat quickening as she turned to find Killian leaning against the doorway. He was dressed in his usual impeccably tailored suit, the black-on-black combination doing nothing to soften the sharpness of his features. His piercing blue eyes studied her, unreadable yet intense, as if he was analyz
Isla stood before the mirror in her small but cozy apartment, adjusting the collar of her white blouse. The reflection staring back at her was no longer the fragile woman haunted by betrayal — no longer the Isla who trembled at the sound of Killian’s name.Her eyes were colder now. Stronger. Sharper.Every scar, every tear she had shed built this version of her — and she wasn’t going to hide from her past anymore.The knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts.She tensed.Nobody was supposed to visit her today.Slowly, cautiously, she approached the door. Peeking through the peephole, relief washed over her when she saw Liam’s familiar face.Still… she opened the door just a crack.“Liam?” she asked.He exhaled a breath of relief. “Isla… thank God.”She widened the door reluctantly and let him in, locking it immediately after.“What’s wrong?” she asked, noticing the tension in his jaw, the restlessness in his steps.He turned to face her, his expression grave.“He’s here.”Her
The city was different in the morning light. Golden rays stretched across the skyline, casting a warmth that Isla barely felt. She pulled her coat tighter around her as she stepped out onto the busy sidewalk, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag like a lifeline. It had been a week since she’d walked away from Killian, a week since she had decided to start over, but the ghost of him still lingered in the corners of her mind, in the spaces between her breaths.She had found refuge in a quieter part of the city, far from the chaos of her past life. It wasn’t luxurious, and it wasn’t permanent, but it was hers. A small studio apartment, just enough space for herself and the life she was trying to rebuild. No more grand mansions, no more suffocating ballrooms filled with people waiting to tear her apart.As she walked, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She hesitated before pulling it out. The screen flashed a name she hadn’t expected—Liam.For a moment, she considered ignoring it, but s
The tension in the room was suffocating, thick enough to choke on. Isla’s heart pounded as she tried to process Liam’s words, but the name alone was enough to send icy fear crawling down her spine.Celeste.The woman who had been lurking in the shadows of Killian’s world. The woman who had made it clear that Isla was nothing more than an inconvenience in her eyes, a pawn in a game she refused to lose. Isla had always known Celeste was dangerous, but if she had found her now…Killian’s expression darkened, his posture shifting into something more predatory. “How the hell does she know?”Liam clenched his jaw, phone still in his grip. “I don’t know, but she does. She’s on her way here.”A sharp curse escaped Killian’s lips. He turned to Isla, stepping closer, lowering his voice to something urgent but controlled. “We need to leave. Now.”Isla bristled, her mind still spinning. “Why? What does she want?”Killian’s gaze was sharp, unwavering. “You know exactly what she wants.”Liam let ou
The city lights blurred through the rain-streaked windows of Killian’s car as he drove with single-minded determination. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white. The tension in his jaw mirrored the storm raging inside him. Isla had vanished again, slipping through his grasp like smoke, and every second that passed only fueled his desperation.He had been searching for her relentlessly, following every lead, interrogating every contact, and yet she remained just out of reach. But this time, he wasn’t going to lose her. Not again.Killian slammed his foot on the gas, weaving through the streets, his mind replaying their last encounter—the way she had looked at him, not with anger, not with fear, but with something worse.Indifference.It had shaken him to his core, more than any betrayal, more than any argument. Isla had always fought back, had always had fire in her eyes when she looked at him. But that last time… she had simply walked away, as if he no longer matt
Killian had never felt so powerless.The city lights flickered outside the tinted windows of his car as it sped through the streets. His fingers drummed anxiously against his thigh, his jaw locked tight. Every lead had turned into a dead end. Every attempt to track Isla down had only led to more frustration. It was as if she had vanished into thin air.But he wasn’t going to give up.Not this time.Liam. The name alone made his blood boil. The man had inserted himself into Isla’s life, shielding her, keeping her away from him. Killian wasn’t naïve enough to think Isla had gone willingly into his protection—she was too damn stubborn for that—but she hadn’t pushed Liam away either. And that was what unsettled him the most. Had he pushed her so far that she now saw Liam as a better option than him?His grip on the whiskey tumbler tightened before he set it down with an audible clink. His phone buzzed. He snatched it up, his heart hammering.Unknown Number.Killian narrowed his eyes but a
Killian clenched his fists as he paced through his penthouse, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each passing second. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of the city below. It had been weeks since Isla disappeared, and every day without her felt like a war raging inside him. He had been wrong—so devastatingly wrong. His own arrogance, his pride, had pushed her away, and now he was paying the price. The bed felt colder without her, the space she once occupied now a void he couldn’t ignore. He hadn’t just lost Isla. He had shattered something fragile between them, something that might never be repaired. Liam had covered her tracks well. No matter how many resources Killian threw at finding her, she remained a ghost, slipping through his fingers like smoke. He had never been this powerless before. Never. A knock at the door pulled him from his storming thoughts. He turned sharply, his voice tight. “Come in.” Jasper, his most trusted man, en
The silence of Killian’s penthouse was suffocating. Every room, every surface, every breath he took was haunted by the absence of Isla. It had been days since she had vanished from his life, and for the first time in years, he felt truly lost.He sat in his dimly lit office, a tumbler of whiskey resting untouched on the desk before him. His hands clenched into fists as he stared at the empty space where her presence used to fill his world. The weight of his mistakes pressed down on him like an anchor, dragging him into a depth he wasn’t sure he could escape from.A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He didn’t bother looking up when Liam entered, his expression unreadable.“You look like hell,” Liam remarked, closing the door behind him.Killian let out a dry chuckle, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Feel like it too.”Liam crossed his arms. “You’ve been sitting here, drowning in your own misery, while Isla is out there. You gonna do something about it, or just
Isla sat by the window of the dimly lit motel room, her fingers trembling as she clutched the edges of the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The weight of exhaustion pressed heavily against her chest, but sleep refused to claim her. Outside, the neon lights from the diner across the street flickered, casting eerie shadows against the cracked wallpaper.Liam sat across the small table, arms crossed, watching her with a wary expression. He had been silent for the past hour, respecting her space but clearly waiting for her to say something—anything."You should eat something," he finally said, breaking the silence. "You haven’t touched your food."Isla barely glanced at the untouched sandwich resting on the table. Her stomach twisted in knots, making the thought of food unappealing. "I’m not hungry."Liam sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "You need to keep your strength up. If Killian finds us—""When," Isla corrected softly, her voice hollow. "When he finds us."Liam’s jaw clench
Killian clenched his fists as he paced through his penthouse, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each passing second. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of the city below. It had been weeks since Isla disappeared, and every day without her felt like a war raging inside him.He had been wrong—so devastatingly wrong. His own arrogance, his pride, had pushed her away, and now he was paying the price. The bed felt colder without her, the space she once occupied now a void he couldn’t ignore. He hadn’t just lost Isla. He had shattered something fragile between them, something that might never be repaired.Liam had covered her tracks well. No matter how many resources Killian threw at finding her, she remained a ghost, slipping through his fingers like smoke. He had never been this powerless before. Never.A knock at the door pulled him from his storming thoughts. He turned sharply, his voice tight. “Come in.”Jasper, his most trusted man, entere