Isabella Sterling, formerly Katherine Carter, is a brilliant architect driven by revenge. Her brother, Jackson, was wrongfully imprisoned for a building collapse orchestrated by the Ashford family, leading to his death and their father's demise. Determined to avenge them, she infiltrates Ashford Global Architecture and the lives of people who were once close to her brother. She took out her heart and left it in Italy while her mind plotted a terrible future for her enemies. But can the love of a man make her change her path, or only reinforce her thirst for blood?
view moreI entered through the doors of the most prestigious architectural firm in the country, Ashford Global Architecture. Not anyone can walk through here, not anyone can get close to the family who stands behind it... But no one had as powerful reasons to do whatever it took to be here as I did.
I wasn't here because they were the best, or because I had any interest in making them or myself any richer. I was here for one reason, and one reason only.
Revenge.
Three years ago, my brother walked these hallways, as a brilliant young architect he presented valuable projects. His name was popping in all the right places and just when he thought he had made all of his dreams come true they took it all away from him framing him for a crime he didn't commit. The building they were constructing collapsed leaving many casualties and they signed it all to be his fault. The evidence was planted, the case rushed, and the entire city turned against him. My brother was innocent but unable to prove it, his smug lawyers did nothing to even try to win the case, the biased judge just itching to close the case... and my father...It had been too much for him. A heart attack. He died the same night Jackson was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison.
I tried to get to my brother but a trusting friend told me it was too dangerous, that Jackson wanted me far away from him for my own safety sending me away to Italy. If they knew of my existence they would most probably come for me... as he said they would come for him because soon enough he got injured in prison and died. Now I've sworn on their grave I would do what it takes to avenge them.
And as if that wasn't enough reason to hate any Ashford that crosses my way I had reason to hate Derek Ashford even more. Three years ago I came face to face with him at the rooftop party while I was searching for my brother, exactly the night before they took him. Derek never met me before that night, and I didn't know better than to fall for his charms and end up in his bed.
In the morning he was nowhere to be found, and even worse he left money on the nightstand like I was nothing. It wasn't until I was in Italy that I found out I was pregnant. I have a son with the monster. A son tucked away in safety with a trusting friend while I bring justice in the name of our family.
I left my identity behind and created a new one. A mask they won't be able to look through until it's too late. Now your destiny will be written by the heartbeat of my cold vengeful heart.
That is why I trained so hard over the past three years. Every moment of my life was dedicated to leaving behind the innocent, trusting, kind heart that would only stay in the way of what I needed to do. I became the best architect alongside my Landscape Architecture degree, it was the only way for this to work. The only way to get inside their world, the only way to uncover the true evidence of what happened and clear my brother's name.
"Hello, my name is Isabella Sterling. I'm here for the meeting." I say to the receptionist.
"Yes, Miss Sterling. They are waiting for you. Let me just give you the pass card." She says as she documents me in before sliding the pass card on the counter. "Just walk through the security scanner and take the elevator to the seventh floor, an assistant will be there to greet you."
"Thank you very much," I say as I take the card. Keeping my posture perfect as I make my way toward the security scanner. The weight of the situation is pressing against my chest, but I don't let it show. Years of preparation, years of pretending to be someone I wasn't, had led to this moment.
The scanner beeps as I pass through it, and the soft click of my heels echoes in the marble foyer as I approach the elevator. The sleek glass doors slide open silently, and I step inside, my reflection staring back at me. There was no trace of who I used to be. The blond hair my father so adored, that reminded us of the mother was gone, replaced by the dark brunette. His golden eyes now hid behind brown contact lenses, any trace that might connect me to them erased.
The seventh floor arrives with a soft ding, and the doors open to reveal a lavishly designed space. The lobby is modern, minimalist, yet clearly screams wealth and power just the way Ashford Global likes it.
An assistant in a crisp black suit greets me with a polite smile.
“Miss Sterling, welcome. I’ll escort you to the meeting room.”
I nod, offering a smile that matches the cold professionalism I’ve cultivated.
“Thank you.”
She leads me down a narrow hallway lined with glass doors, each one opening into an office belonging to one of Ashford Global’s top-tier architects. It’s all shiny, sleek, and sterile. A reflection of their immaculate, but ultimately soulless, empire. They think they’re untouchable here. They think no one could ever break into their circle. But they don’t know me.
As we approach the meeting room, my pulse quickens slightly, but I hold it together. The doors open, and I step inside to meet the people I’ve been preparing to destroy for three years.
"Miss Sterling, so wonderful to have you here." Lucas Ashford, the charming patriarch, his silver hair neatly combed back. To society, he was a well-respected man, known for his love for life and giving back to those who needed it the most, but I knew the trash he really was.
I took his hand and shook it, a calm, relaxed smile on my face.
"Happy to be here," I say as he turns around to his son. Derek Ashford.
The playboy, charming, persuasive, and connected. The kind of man who can get anything done with the right words and the right people. I’ve studied all of them for months, learning their weaknesses, their insecurities, their habits. For that I knew the perfect way to get to him... when the time comes.
"My son, Derek." Lucas gestures toward Derek, his voice warm with pride as if he were introducing a prized possession. Derek stands with an easy, almost too relaxed smile, his sharp eyes assessing me as if I were just another opportunity to exploit. Which means he dosnt see in me that young woman he treated like nothing, hell he probably dosnt even remember her name.
I extend my hand, a smile never leaving my face. "Mr. Ashford," I greet him smoothly, my tone measured, calculated. "It’s a pleasure."
He smiles, a little too confidently.
"The pleasure is mine, Miss Sterling. I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Impressive portfolio, I must say."
I keep my expression neutral, pretending to be flattered.
"Thank you, Mr. Ashford. I’m excited about the opportunity. To be collaborating with you."
He motions for me to sit, and I take the chair opposite him at the head of the sleek, glass conference table.
Derek sits beside his father, both of them exuding an air of superiority that I know all too well. But I’ve spent years pretending to be just another ambitious architect, and today, I’m about to play the part to perfection.
"Let's begin," Derek says, his eyes not leaving mine and I dont back down.
You have no idea what awaits you, my dear future husband."
He bent his head, brushing his lips over mine so gently it almost didn’t count as a kiss, something inside me lit. He didn’t pull away immediately. He just rested his forehead against mine, both of us suspended in that impossible moment where nothing else mattered. No Jack. No world. Just the warmth of his breath, the weight of his attention, the slow, dangerous burn of being seen. Because as close as he was, as much as he surrounded me, I saw past all of it, past the designer suit, the smirk that had probably undone a hundred women before me, the magazine covers, the family name whispered through cocktail conversations and boardrooms. His heartbeat wasn't reckless. It was steady. Controlled. Lonely. He looked like a man used to being wanted, not known.And I saw it then. In the pause between his breath and mine, in the way his fingers, still linked with mine, curled just slightly tighter as if he didn’t want me to let go, I saw the flicker of something raw beneath all the confidence
Three years ago, rooftop party.The music pulsed up through the floor, bleeding from rooftop speakers like some reckless heartbeat. Laughter spilled over the edges, tangled with cigarette smoke and too sweet cocktails. The city glowed below like it didn’t know what secrets were being kept above it. I stepped out of the elevator and into the rooftop party already buzzing like a live wire. The smell of liquor and ambition hit me first but then came the heat, the kind that made people loosen buttons and morals alike.I wasn’t here to party. I was here to find my brother. Jackson hadn’t answered his phone in over six hours. My father was pacing the floors back home, convinced something was off. And he was never wrong about that kind of thing, not with his blood. I didnt know anyone here, this wasnt my world but then again some days it felt I didnt belong anywhere. I was used to it tho, to be overlooked, not heard… it was funny, where ever I went people talked about Jackson Carter, but noo
“You know…” Derek said under his breath as he reached for his water, eyes glinting with mock betrayal, “when you said spicy… I wasn’t imagining melting my tongue off.” I laughed, nearly choking on my own bite as I set my taco down, covering my mouth with one hand. The spice was real, molten lava disguised as salsa roja but the burn was worth the look on his face. “Hey,” I said, catching my breath and waving toward his glass, “you picked the place. This must be some true to core Mexican chef, because I’m pretty sure my face matches my red dress right now.” He glanced at me, then did a double take. Not at the joke, at the dress. “Not a complaint,” he said quickly, grinning. “Just an observation.” I rolled my eyes and sipped my water, letting the coolness fight off the fire still curling on my tongue. Derek looked me up and down with mock scrutiny, then raised an eyebrow. “It’s not just me, right? You’re dying too?” “Absolutely,” I said. “But I’m handling it with more grace than you.”
“You were right,” I say to Benjamin as he sits across from me, his sleeves rolled up and that usual amused glint in his eyes. “This cake is amazing.” He leans back slightly, watching me with the same quiet satisfaction of someone who’s just won a bet without saying the words I told you so.“I only recommend the best,” he replies, lifting his espresso to his lips. I cant know exactly what was going on in his mine even tho I could guess… It didnt take a genius to see the way he looks at me. Not like Derek, more superficial, as if he wanted to taste me, instead of the cake. But what I did know, from his phone, is that he canceled Camila to be here with me. And that wasnt nothing. I take another bite of the cake, letting the rich chocolate melt on my tongue as I hold his gaze. Deliberate. Unapologetic.“Thank you for lending me that file yesterday. It really helped me with the client.” I say. “So much so that I got the account.”“Yes, I heard.” He says. “You are putting a lot on your plate
The table was long, white linened, and crowded with curated power. Crisp suits, crystal glasses, laughter calculated in polite increments. The Bennetts were exactly what I expected, wealthy, affable, and eager to be impressed. Derek sat at the head, speaking fluidly about vision, legacy, prestige. But every now and then, his eyes cut to me. A silent nudge. My cue. Not only did I review the project, I dound errors and even ways to improve on the architectural design. Sorry, Mr. Dawson, but I just had to put my hands in the mess. Even if it ment stealing a project. “…I know that what you first agreed with Mr.Dawson was something different but I believe that by creating transitional thresholds between the original structure and the new wing, we preserve the building’s historical narrative while still allowing for the glass installation to feel organic, rather than imposed,” I explained, one hand delicately tracing the rim of my wine glass as I spoke. The older Bennett, Charles, nodded,
“Knock, knock.” I say as I slowly lean on Benjamin's open door. He lifts his focused head from the screen infront of him and smiles surprised. “Isabella. What a lovely surprise.” He says as he gets up. “To what do I owe this pleasure.” His blazer hung perfectly off his shoulders, sleeves rolled just enough to suggest he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, but only if it was for something worth his time. I gave him a practiced smile and stepped inside, letting the door click softly shut behind me. “I heard you’re the man to talk to about the Bennett account,” I said, approaching his desk. “And since the presentation is happening today, I figured I should at least pretend to know what we’re selling.” “I didnt know you were on the account, I was handed the file when architect Dawson went to inspect the grounds.” I thought Benjamin handled materials and providers, but it seems he had a bit more control then I thought. “Mr.Ashford… Derek, asked me to join him on the business lunch wi
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