The corridors of Blackwell & Co. felt different tonight.
It was past ten, and the hum of the clock had subsided to a faint vibration. The air was crisp, faintly aromatic with freshly polished wood and faint traces of expensive cologne all around. Yet one floor remained illuminated. The office that held both Isla Wilde and Lucian Blackwell, a space that was becoming as contested as a battlefield. Through the tall windows, Manhattan winked like a beast. Inside, a silence weighed down upon the room until the sound of a paper sliding across the table felt like a crack in the ice. It was the Merger Agreement. The freshly signed documents between Elan Vogue and Blackwell & Co. glinted under the warm lamp. The ink was still fresh and binding well together. The merger had happened which meant the war had begun. *** “Congratulations once again,” Lucian said, his.voice low and measured. The word felt bitter on his tongue. He stood across the table from Isla, his sleeves rolled to his forearms, tie loosened, making him look like a piece of art. The faint stubble of a long day was framing the sharp angles of his jaw. Yet it was the faint sting in his gaze that spoke volumes to Isla. A sting that refused to acknowledge the victory he had himself handed her. Isla didn’t flinch when she heard the sting in his words. She smirked and stood tall, her crimson silk cloth brushing the floor, her eyes sharp as a blade. “Victory? Hah. It was more like a reckoning for you, Mr. Blackwell. The silence between them surged like a haunted nightmare. He tilted his head slightly, brushing hair from his temple, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Then why does it feel like a victory? Hm?” Isla refused to break eye contact. “Because victories don’t always feel like celebrations, Mr. Blackwell. Sometimes, victory tastes like iron and stone inside your mouth, a needle plunging inside the heart.” A faint smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Always so poetic, Isla.” “Being poetic doesn’t mean I'm powerless.” With that, she stepped away, brushing the freshly signed agreement with the tips of her long fingers again. The sound of her silk brushing cloth brushing the floor was the only sound in the room for a moment. Then came a slight and faint knock. The door clicked open. Leo Stone entered, tall, in all his glory, a sharp smile playing across his sharply cut jawline. His deep charcoal suit molded to him like a second skin. He held a leather envelope and a faint air of mock that refused to dissipate. “Am I interrupting?” Leo drawled, brushing an unreadable glance across Lucian, a smirk playing at his lips. “Perfect timing, as always, Stone,” Lucian replied, his voice dripping with disdain and annoyance. Leo ignored the barb and came to stand beside Isla. “Well, words travel fast, you know,” he said smoothly. “The merger is official. The entire city is talking about the ice queen and the lion of Blackwell making a… united team.” He glanced down at the agreement resting between them with a small smile. Isla didn’t move, but the faint arch of a brow spoke volumes. “Are you trying to claim the victory too, Stone?” she asked softly, her voice like silk and steel both together. Leo gave an easy shrug. “Only if you’re sharing it with me, darling. But no, not tonight. Tonight I came here to invite you to dinner. A quiet spot, just the two of us. Just you and me….together ” Leo spoke and winked as he stretched the last sentence a little longer, enough for Lucian to feel a possessive rage inside his heart. The air tightened as Lucian pushed away from the desk, rising to his full height. The already burning tension ignited more further. “Since when,” Lucian said slowly, his voice deepening like a warning, “does a partner make dinner arrangements with the other partner’s wife?” Lucian’s tone was filled with jealousy and possessiveness Isla’s gaze snapped to Lucian instantly. The words landed like a spark of match thrown across a dry wood ready to explode in fire. “Ex-wife,” she corrected the man sharply, brushing a hand down the silk of her dress. “Ex is a technicality,” Lucian replied, his voice like burning ice. Leo smiled faintly, brushing a hand through his soft hair, “Ex or not, she makes her own decisions, doesn’t she?” He offered a hand to Isla, his palm open. An invitation which felt more like an enticement. Isla smirked. Lucian raged. For a moment, it felt like the room held its breath. Then Isla smiled sharply “Thank you, Leo. But tonight? No. I'm sorry.” A beat of silence passed down. Isla threw a glance towards Lucian, as if she was enjoying his reaction. “I have loose ends to tie for now.” Leo didn’t falter, nor did he show any disappointment. Instead, he dipped his head in an elegant nod with grace. “As you wish, Ms. Wilde. Mr. Blackwell,” he added, brushing past Lucian as he exited. “Well, try not to kill each other tonight. The market doesn’t recover well from scandals.” The door clicked shut. And then….silence engulfed the whole room. *** The silence surged between them like a beast. “Leo Stone is a snake,” Lucian said finally, brushing hair from his forehead, his voice low and rough. “He’s circling you with his venom, and you… don’t seem to mind.” “I would rather trust a snake I can spot than trust the dragon I once trusted,” Isla said sharply. The words fell like a dagger plunging inside Lucian’s heart. Isla's words stung Lucian hard. Lucian drew closer, brushing the edge of the desk, voice lowering until it was like a soft velvet over hard steel. “Isla… what are you trying to prove? You want to humiliate me? To ruin me? Or to punish yourself for loving a man who you can’t forget? Huh” The words landed like a spark thrown across timber, waiting to explode. Isla froze. Then slowly, she tilted her chin upwards, locking those stormy eyes upon him. “Forget?” she asked sharply. “Forgetting is for those who are too weak to bear the weight of remembering memories. I remember everything, Lucian. The vows, the promises, the betrayal. Your silence, the hospital room where you weren’t, the sound of our baby's heartbeat that stopped before it began…” Her voice shook only for a moment before she pulled herself tall again, brushing away the sting which he had just given her. “The only thing that’s changed, Lucian, is that I no longer kneel for mercy. Not for you, not for your family, not for the sins buried deep in your family's steel like corridors. Lucian flinched. For one breathless moment, Lucian Blackwell looked like the boy he had been when he met her. The man stripped of armor, guilt burning in his sharp eyes. Then came a faint sound. A slight crack deep in the room. The sound of a man breaking apart in haunting silence. “Isla,” he said hoarsely, brushing the space between them like a divine prayer. “If I could go back…” “Then you’d do what?” she cut in, voice rising sharply. “Save the child we lost? Save the marriage that you abandoned? Save the woman you left behind while she was all alone?” The silence that followed was like a grave. Then she stepped closer, her voice softening until it was almost a low whisper. “The man I married would have burned down the whole world for me. But the man you became let the world burn us both down. So no, Lucian. You don’t get to go back. You don’t get to rewrite our story. All you get is this room. This night and this moment. We are here, in the present and nothing you do would change the past anymore.” Lucian was breathing hard, slowly, his breaths painfully anguished. “Then tell me how, Isla. Tell me how to fix this mess.” Her gaze shimmered for a moment, long enough for a small crack to show in her confident mask. “By digging the truth, by pulling every skeleton out of the closet.” A faint silence passed. Then, brushing past him, Isla laid a hand upon the edge of their agreement. “Until then, this merger doesn’t make us friends. It doesn’t make us partners. It doesn’t make us enemies. It makes us wary of survivors of a war that we’re still fighting….against each other” She paused at the door and spoke, her voice soft as silk but sharp as glass. “Try not to forget that, Lucian.” And then she was gone. *** Left alone in the silence, Lucian sank into the leather chair, brushing a hand down the surface of the signed agreement. The sting of crimson ink burnt him from inside. Through the silence came a soft sound. A faint chime of an email alert buzzed. He pulled it open. It was another file, another message. Another piece of the puzzle he was trying to solve. It was a witness statement signed by Dr. Elara Jensen. And a subject line that refused to let him breathe. “What really happened to Isla in the past?” For the first time in years, Lucian felt the sting of fear rise like bile in his throat. The truth was no longer buried. It was rising like a phoenix from its burnt ashes. And once it's surfaced then it would consume them both. ***
