The Blackwood Estate stood as a towering symbol of wealth and influence, its grandeur casting an imposing shadow over the city skyline. It was a place where only the most elite gathered, a haven for billionaires, politicians, and socialites who measured power in whispers and sealed deals with a clink of crystal glasses. Tonight, the estate was alive with music and laughter, the grand ballroom a spectacle of shimmering lights, flowing champagne, and breathtakingly expensive gowns.Isla Carter adjusted the strap of her deep emerald dress, her fingers grazing the soft silk as she scanned the crowd with barely concealed unease. She was out of place here, surrounded by women who wore their privilege like a second skin and men who had the world at their feet. She hadn’t wanted to come, but her best friend, Elena, had insisted, dragging her into a night she was already regretting.“You look like you’re about to make a run for it,” Elena teased, nudging Isla’s arm as they stood near the bar.
The night was supposed to end the moment Isla stepped off the dance floor, but fate had other plans. Her pulse was still erratic from Killian Blackwood’s touch, his cryptic words echoing in her mind. She should have walked away, left the gala without a second glance—but the fire in her veins wouldn’t let her.Instead, she found herself storming into the dimly lit study at the far end of the Blackwood Estate, away from the prying eyes of high society. The heavy mahogany doors shut behind her with a quiet click, enclosing her in the lion’s den.Killian stood by the bar, pouring himself a drink, his broad shoulders at ease as if he had anticipated this confrontation. He didn’t turn immediately, but Isla knew he sensed her presence.“You just walk away after that?” Isla’s voice was sharper than intended, laced with an emotion she refused to name.Killian finally glanced at her over his shoulder, his dark eyes amused. “Would you have preferred I stayed and entertained your questions in fro
The sun had fully risen by the time Isla gathered the courage to leave Killian’s suite. Even in her expensive gown, she felt exposed, vulnerable. The hallway was empty as she slipped through, her heart pounding with the weight of her regret. Every step away from that room felt like a thousand miles, but it still wasn’t far enough.By the time she made it to the lobby, her phone buzzed.**Bestie:** Where are you? I saw you leave with HIM. Tell me you didn’t.Isla’s fingers trembled over the screen. How could she explain what had happened? How could she admit to the reckless mistake that now clawed at her insides?Before she could respond, a hotel concierge approached her with a polite but distant smile. "Miss Carter, Mr. Blackwood requested that a car be prepared for you. It’s waiting outside."Isla stiffened. “Excuse me?”The man’s expression didn’t waver. "Mr. Blackwood had an early departure and left instructions to ensure you had a comfortable way home."Early departure.The words
The morning air was crisp as Isla sat curled up on her couch, staring blankly at the steaming cup of tea in her hands. The TV was on, the news anchor droning about stock market shifts and business takeovers, but the words barely registered. Her mind was elsewhere—trapped in an endless loop of anxiety and confusion.Her period was late. She had been trying to ignore it for days, blaming stress, exhaustion, anything but the most obvious possibility. But as she counted the weeks in her head for the hundredth time, dread tightened around her chest like a steel vice. Elena, who had been bustling in the kitchen, walked in with two plates of toast and eggs. She eyed Isla’s expression and immediately frowned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said, setting the plates down. “What’s going on?”Isla hesitated, biting her lip so hard she nearly drew blood. Elena knew her too well. There was no hiding this. “I think I might be pregnant,” Isla finally whispered.Elena blinked. Then blink
The city skyline stretched beyond Isla’s apartment window, twinkling with lights that seemed indifferent to her turmoil. The pregnancy test lay discarded on her nightstand, but the truth it revealed haunted her every waking moment. She needed to talk to him. Killian Blackwood might have vanished after that night, but he couldn’t ignore this forever. Heart pounding, Isla grabbed her phone and scrolled to his contact once more. The screen glowed in the dim room, his name taunting her. She hesitated only a second before pressing ‘call.’The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.Straight to voicemail.A lump formed in her throat. She ended the call and tried again. This time, the call didn’t even ring—it went directly to voicemail.He had blocked her.The realization hit like a punch to the gut. Her breath came out in shallow bursts, fingers tightening around the device. Anger, frustration, hurt—all of it swirled inside her, an uncontrollable storm. Elena, who had been sitting cross-
The days following her humiliating encounter with Killian Blackwood were filled with a suffocating silence. Isla tried to move on, tried to focus on her work, but the weight of his dismissal clung to her like a curse. She spent her nights tossing and turning, replaying their last conversation over and over again in her mind. Then, the summons came.It was abrupt—a call from an unknown number, followed by a sleek black car arriving at her apartment doorstep. The driver, a man with a stony expression, handed her a single piece of paper: *Killian Blackwood requests your presence. No refusals.*She wanted to ignore it. She should have. But something inside her burned with the need to confront him, to demand answers for his cruel indifference. The frustration, the pain, the anger—all of it surged within her, and before she could rationalize, she was getting into the car.And so, she went.---The Blackwood estate loomed ahead like a fortress, its grand entrance flanked by towering iron ga
The contract sat on Isla’s small dining table, an unrelenting presence, its crisp white pages mocking her with every passing second. She had left Killian’s estate in a haze, the weight of his ultimatum pressing down on her like a vice. For two days, she had locked herself in her apartment, refusing to answer calls, avoiding the world. But no amount of isolation could make the reality disappear. She was running out of time.Her finances were in shambles. Rent was overdue, her savings had dwindled, and the looming medical expenses of her pregnancy felt like a boulder hanging over her head. The job she once loved, her independence—all of it seemed to slip further from her grasp with each passing moment. Killian had backed her into a corner, and she hated him for it.A sharp knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts. She hesitated before standing, smoothing out the wrinkles in her worn-out sweatshirt. When she opened the door, her best friend, Elena, stood there, eyes scanning
The ceremony was nothing like Isla had imagined a wedding should be. There were no flowers, no music, no guests to celebrate the union. It was held in a private office at city hall, the cold walls and lifeless decor mirroring the emptiness in her heart.Killian Blackwood stood beside her, his tailored suit immaculate, his expression unreadable. He had barely looked at her since she arrived, as if this was nothing more than a routine business deal. And to him, it was.The officiant cleared his throat, glancing between them. "Do you, Killian Blackwood, take Isla Carter to be your lawfully wedded wife?"Killian didn't hesitate. "I do."His voice was steady, devoid of emotion. He could have been agreeing to a contract merger for all the warmth he showed.Isla's chest tightened as the officiant turned to her. "And do you, Isla Carter, take Killian Blackwood to be your lawfully wedded husband?"She swallowed hard, her fingers trembling at her sides. Every fiber of her being screamed at her
The air in Isla’s hotel room was thick with unspoken thoughts as she pushed the half-empty takeout container aside. The food Liam had brought her was good, but she barely had the appetite to finish it. Instead, she found herself staring at the ceiling, lost in a whirlwind of emotions.Across from her, Liam leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he studied her. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by something softer—concern, maybe even understanding.“You look like you’re still in shock,” he remarked.Isla let out a hollow laugh. “I think I am.”“You actually left.”“I did.”He exhaled sharply and shook his head. “Never thought I’d see the day.”“Neither did I.”Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Liam had always been a presence in her life, even in Killian’s world. While she had often dismissed him as nothing more than an associate, an observer in the shadows, she realized now that he had seen more than she gave him credit for.“What now?” Liam finally ask
The city skyline blurred past as Isla sat in the back of a sleek black car, the streetlights casting elongated shadows along the pavement. The hum of the engine was steady, but her mind was a storm of memories, regrets, and the ache of severed ties. Every decision, every choice that had led her here, replayed in her head like a haunting melody she couldn’t silence.Liam, sitting in the driver’s seat, stole a glance at her through the rearview mirror. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles slightly white. He hadn’t spoken much since they left the Blackwood estate, giving her space, but the tension in the air was thick.“You okay?” he finally asked, his voice softer than usual.Isla exhaled slowly, her fingers curling into her lap. “Not yet,” she admitted. “But I will be.”Liam nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Where to?”She hesitated. The past few years of her life had been defined by Killian Blackwood. His world. His rules. Now, she was completely unmoored.
The tension in the Blackwood estate was suffocating. Isla stood in the center of Killian’s grand study, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to shield against the storm that was brewing between them. Killian stood a few feet away, his piercing gaze fixed on her, his jaw set in that cold, unrelenting manner that had once both fascinated and frustrated her.But tonight, she was done being fascinated. She was done with everything.“You’re leaving?” Killian’s voice was deceptively calm, but there was an undercurrent of something darker beneath it.Isla lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with a quiet determination. “Yes.”A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Where will you go?”“That’s none of your concern.”Killian scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair. “None of my concern?” He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “That’s rich coming from you, considering how deep you’ve buried yourself into my life.”“I buried myself?” Isla repeated, her voice rising. “You pulled me in, Killian. And
Isla stared at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers gripping the cool marble countertop of her bathroom sink. The woman looking back at her seemed like a stranger—eyes hollowed with exhaustion, lips pressed into a tight line of barely contained anger and pain.Celeste had won. The world believed her lies, and Killian had done nothing to refute them. He had let Isla suffer while standing next to the woman who had orchestrated her public humiliation.She couldn’t let this continue.A sharp knock at her front door startled her. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and after everything that had happened, she wasn’t in the mood for visitors. Still, something told her she needed to face whatever awaited her on the other side.With slow, deliberate steps, she crossed the room and opened the door. Killian stood there, looking every bit the powerful man the world revered—except for the tightness in his jaw and the storm raging in his eyes."Isla," he said, his voice a low, controlled growl.She d
The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Isla’s penthouse, casting golden hues over the living room. Despite its warmth, she felt cold. The weight of Killian’s call still lingered, the echo of his voice rattling through her mind.She had expected him to lash out, to throw accusations her way, but instead, he had simply said, “Come home.” As if the words alone could undo the damage.Isla wrapped her arms around herself, standing by the window as the city stretched before her. Everything about Killian had always been complicated. He had never been a man of apologies or grand gestures. He was a force of nature—dangerous, unpredictable, and impossible to tame.And yet, she had tried.A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. For a moment, she hesitated. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and after last night, she wasn’t in the mood for surprises.Steeling herself, she opened the door.Liam stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. “I thought y
Isla stared at her phone long after she ended the call. The screen dimmed, but the weight of Killian’s voice still lingered in the air. Come home, he had said, as if it were that simple. As if he hadn’t just stood by and watched her world shatter at the hands of Celeste.She wasn’t going back. Not this time.Liam, who had been watching her closely, leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “So, what now?”Isla lifted her gaze to him, her fingers tightening around the phone. “I need to fight back. I need to make sure Celeste and Killian both realize they can’t keep doing this to me.”Liam arched a brow. “And how do you plan on doing that?”For the first time in weeks, a spark of determination lit up inside her. “I don’t know yet. But I refuse to be their pawn any longer.”Liam exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable. Then, after a beat, he nodded. “Good. That’s the woman I remember.”His words made something tighten in her chest. She turned away, hugging her arms to herself
The room was suffocating with the whispers of the elite. Isla could feel their gazes slicing into her like tiny, precise daggers. After Celeste’s public humiliation at the gala, she had hoped to retreat into obscurity, but the world wasn’t that forgiving.Killian had done nothing. Not a single word of defense, not a single gesture to shield her. The man who once claimed to protect her had stood idly by, letting the wolves feast on her reputation.The aftermath was brutal. The tabloids had a field day with the spectacle. Isla Sinclair—the woman who had dared to step into Celeste DuPont’s path, the woman rumored to be carrying Killian Blackwood’s child—was branded a gold digger, a liar, a disgrace.But the worst part? Killian’s silence.That night, Isla lay awake in her penthouse, the city’s lights flickering through her window. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to leave, to vanish before she was reduced to nothing.Meanwhile, across the city, Liam Caldwell sat in his office, sta
(Isla steps into the grand ballroom, her heart pounding against her ribs. The event is one of the most prestigious gatherings of the year, and as much as she wants to disappear into the crowd, she knows she can't. Her presence has been requested—no, demanded—by Killian. The air is thick with luxury, laughter, and the scent of expensive champagne. Women in glittering gowns and men in tailored suits float through the room, whispering and stealing glances in her direction.)(She swallows down the lump in her throat. She can feel the stares, hear the murmurs. But she doesn’t let it show. Instead, she keeps her chin high and her expression unreadable.)Celeste (smirking, voice dripping with venom): My, my. Look who decided to show up. You must be braver than I thought, Isla.(Isla turns slowly, finding Celeste standing before her in a crimson gown that clings to her figure like a second skin. Her eyes are alight with cruel amusement, and Isla immediately knows she’s up to something.)Isla
The silence in Isla’s apartment was deafening. She had locked the door behind her, resting her forehead against the wood as she tried to calm her racing heart. Her fingers trembled as she let out a slow breath, her mind still reeling from the confrontation with Killian.He had looked at her with something unspoken in his eyes, something that made her chest ache despite everything. But she couldn’t afford to be weak, not now. Not when he had made it perfectly clear that he saw her and their child as an obligation rather than a family.A knock on the door shattered her moment of solitude.Her stomach twisted. She knew who it was before she even turned around. Killian. He had followed her. Again.She closed her eyes, steeling herself, before unlocking the door and pulling it open. Killian stood there, looking just as controlled as ever, though his sharp gaze softened for a fraction of a second as he took her in. Then, just as quickly, the mask was back in place.“What do you want, Killia