The Blackwell & Co. conference room felt like a cold chamber as Lucian stood at the head of the long table, Isla directly across from him. This was no longer about press announcements or anymore. Today, the room would witness the final play in this twisted corporate dance.
The board members were tense and wary, they watched silently as the documents circulated around. The merger agreement. The signature that would redefine the futures of Blackwell & Co. and Élan Vogue. One of the biggest mergers ever. Isla didn’t flinch when Lucian’s sharp gaze met hers. The silence felt like a blade pressed between the two of them. “Are you sure this is what you want, Isla?” Lucian’s voice was low, almost soft, as if telling Isla to reconsider. Her smile was slow but sharp as glass. “What I want is already in motion, Lucian. What you are left with is a choice. So sign and acknowledge that Élan Vogue is no longer a guest in your business world… or watch your throne burn down piece by piece.” A long silence passed in the whole room. The weight of unspoken words stretched upon them. Then, slowly, Lucian picked up the pen. His hand didn’t shake. Though it wasn't because he felt confident or arrogant, but because some battles are accepted knowing the cost. With a sleek movement, he signed. A faint smile curved Isla’s crimson-painted lips. A smile of victory. “The merger is official, then.” The room exhaled hard. Board members exchanged wary glances together as Isla rose up, brushing invisible dust from the sleek lapel of her white suit with a smirk of victory tugging at her lips. She came closer to Lucian, brushing past him just enough for him to feel the closeness of her presence. Her voice was a whisper meant only for him and him alone. “My step one is over, Lucian. You gave me a seat at the table today. Let’s see if you can survive the feast of my triumph.” And with that, she was gone. The doors closed behind her like the sound of a storm. Lucian sank into the chair, his knuckles pressed to the table. The merger was done. It wasn't a win for him, not even a loss for Islam but it was the signal that the real war was about to begin. The sky shimmered beyond the windows, a reminder that New York was a city built on ruin and rising. Lucian tightened his jaw hard. If this was war, then he would meet her in the ruins. If this was a dance, he would match her step for step, holding her close. *** The night came with a party thrown in the achievement of merger between two biggest companies. Then came the toast. A crisp sound of crystal as the glasses rose, the room filling with applause and congratulations to Isla and Lucian. Isla didn’t drink. “Not tonight,” she said quietly, brushing past Lucian’s offer with a glance that could burn bones. “Isla,” Lucian said slowly, stopping her just as she turned to leave. The room felt like a blur, the sound of murmured conversation fading out until only the beating of her own heart remained in the place. “Why are you really here?” he asked, voice pitched for her ears only, but his eyes…they were drunk with desire as if he wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her senseless. Her lashes lowered, brushing against the sharp line of her cheeks, and when she looked up at him, she smiled like a woman with nothing left to lose anymore. “Why?” she said slowly. “Because you built an empire that thought it could bury me and broke me apart. An empire that thought it could erase my voice. An empire that believed I would stay buried down when broken.” She tilted closer, her voice soft but lethal. “And now that same empire is mine. Hah. Not as a handout, not as a mercy and not because you gave it to me. But because I came and claimed it. The merger was never about making peace, Lucian. It was about reminding you that I don’t need anyone's permission to rise. I rise on my own.” Then she stepped away with a hint of smirk and pain burying inside her eyes. “Consider this the first chapter of a very long book, Mr. Blackwell. You owe me more than a signature. You owe me the truth. And one day very soon? You’ll give it to me.” *** As she left the room, the sound of applause felt like a drum beating in Lucian’s chest. He sank down into the leather chair, brushing the crystal glass closer as if to tether himself to this moment. He had signed the agreement. He had been given the throne. But he knew….knee this was no surrender. The room still thrummed with Isla's presence even long after she’d gone. “Sir?” came Ezra’s voice from behind. Lucian waved him off, rising to stand before the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Manhattan sky unfurling like a beast across the dark horizon. He pressed a hand to the glass, searching for that rare hint of warmth buried deep inside a heart that he refused to forget. For years, he had buried the sound of Isla’s voice, the sting of her betrayal, the warmth of their nights. But now? The silence between them was no longer a tomb. It was a warning. *** Meanwhile, in the quiet expanse of Elan Vogue Milan, Isla sank down into the deep leather of her office chair. The pen that had sealed the merger still felt warm between her fingers. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, New York glowed like a jewel upon black velvet. Yet her thoughts refused to settle. Today, she had taken more than a victory. Today, she had finally taken a piece of herself back. But the victory felt like a blade pressed to her skin, its sharp edge reminding her that the biggest battles weren’t won with signatures only. They weren’t sealed in mere documents or announced in press releases. They were won when secrets came out of the dark. And she would make sure all the secrets come out. Secrets which would destroy Claire Blackwell. She drew open the lowest drawer of her desk and pulled out a slim brown envelope. The one Leo had delivered to her the night before. The files spoke of hospital records buried under layers of deceit. It had names she had refused to forget. It had names she refused to forgive. One name in bold, scrawled across a line. DR. ELARA JENSEN. Who was she? What was her connection to Isla’s past? It felt like a door that refused to remain closed. With a shaking breath, Isla pressed the envelope to her chest and rose to her feet. The silence of the room was charged with a storm that was yet to break. “Step one is over,” she said aloud, her voice shaky but strong. But the war? The war had only just begun. And soon, every buried secret, every stolen truth, every thread that held her tragedy together would be pulled until the world saw Claire Blackwell for what she was. Until Lucian Blackwell knew the cost of his silence. Until every piece of herself that had been buried six years ago rose from the grave. Then and only then would Isla rest. With the sting of the pen still burning between her fingers, she pressed the elevator button for the lobby. “Step Two,” she promised herself as the doors closed. “The world may not be ready for what comes next. But I am.” *** So how was the chapter guys? Now both Isla and Lucian have gotten the name of doctor Elara Jenson on their palms. Let's see what happens next! Xoxo
