登入Isla’s POVI’ve been lying here for hours, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain hiss against the windowpane like it’s mocking me. Sienna’s laptop hums on the nightstand beside me, screen dimmed but not dark, the email from Ava still open. The folder sits there, bold and unforgiving: “Silas + Isabella – Final Wedding Shots.”My stomach twists every time I read it.His last words echo, replaying over and over until I almost forget to breathe. He wouldn’t, right? He wouldn’t stoop that low. He knows what that could do to me if it ever came out. He knows how much I’ve rebuilt, how hard I’ve fought to get to this level of my life.But Silas can be unpredictable, charming one second, cruel the next. And when he feels cornered, he doesn’t lash out with his fists. He uses your history against you.I scroll through my inbox again. Ava’s message blinks at the top:“Here are the remaining shots from the reception! You just need to polish the lighting and crop the background on a few.”R
Isla’s POVMy phone vibrated across the coffee table like a warning. For a moment, I stared at it, steam from my tea curling up into the air, pretending I didn’t see the name flashing across the screen.Silas.Of course. He couldn’t let things rest for even twenty-four hours.I almost let it go to voicemail, but something in me wanted to hear what he’d sound like now. Guilt? Arrogance? Triumph?I pressed answer and held the phone to my ear.“Isla,” he said, my name soft on his lips . “Where are you?”My chest went tight. “None of your business,” I said flatly. “Why are you calling?”There was a pause. Then a low chuckle, lazy and deliberate.“You left. After I paid you ten grand to shoot the whole thing.”The money. He’d gone straight for the money. Wow, just wow.“I didn’t abandon it,” I replied, voice even. “My team finished everything. The coverage is complete.”“That’s not the point,” he said sharply. “You were supposed to be there. You. I didn’t hire your team. I hired you. You t
Zayne’s POV The push-up count stopped at thirty. I could’ve gone to fifty, maybe sixty, but my mind wasn’t keeping pace with my body. Every time I exhaled, Isla's face flashed. The glasses. The trembling hands. The soaked hair plastered to her cheeks. I dropped to my knees and sat back on my heels, breathing through the memory that wouldn’t stop. I dragged a towel over my face, forcing myself to focus. It didn’t work. I’d told myself I was going downstairs for my charger. Truth? I just wanted to see her again. Just once more, to make sure if the woman I’d pulled out of that alley was really Isla and not a figment of my guilt-soaked imagination. She was more than real. Everything Sienna and Silas had ever said about Isla had been criminally inaccurate. Silas had described her as “sweet but boring,” like she was a side note in his own story. Sienna used to laugh, calling her “my hot nerd bestie” — None of them had mentioned how good looking she really was. The quiet gravity she
Isla’s POV I fumbled with my glasses, brushing damp strands of hair behind my ear. I glanced toward the staircase as though to check if Sienna was coming down the stairs, but then a tall silhouette disappeared around the corner. After what felt like minutes, Sienna finally descended, her steps light, effortless, like she hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes upstairs with her brother—the same brother she’d warned me about my entire life. Her grin was annoyingly bright. “Finally… you meet Zayne.” “Yeah…” I hesitated, eyeing the stairs again. “But he’s not ugly like you said.” Sienna stopped mid-step, her mouth falling open in mock outrage. “Yes, he is.” I arched my brow. “Ugly?” I echoed, remembering the way she’d once described him—too serious, too cold, the kind of guy who thought ‘smiling’ was a chore. But even as I said it, I could feel the lies twisting through her tone, the flicker of something unspoken in her eyes. Sienna scoffed, tossing her hair dramatically. “Ug
ZayneI hated rain. Always had. But tonight, as I pulled into Dustfield, I didn’t even notice the slick, wet streets or the faint drizzle settling on the windshield. I parked outside the house, hands tight on the wheel. My chest was a little tighter than usual, and I hated the faint pulse of relief that rushed through me when I saw the warm lights inside. I stepped out of the car, the air cold against my skin. My shoes clicked against the wet concrete as I approached the front door. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I fumbled for it just to see Silas’s message:Silas: You left before the pictures. Can’t believe my best man ditched before the main show.I typed back immediately. Me: I hate rain. You already know that.Silas: How the fuck was I supposed to know the forecast would change?Me: Not my problem. Just fix me in there. You’ve got your wife—be happy with that.I shoved the phone back into my pocket, Sienna’s voice drifted from inside before I even rang the bell.“Zayne! About
Isla The drive to Dustfield was long and silent. Rain pelted the windshield, blurring streetlights into golden smears. My chest ached, and tears refused to stop. Every blink smeared them further, leaving streaks across my cheeks. My thoughts were a tangled mess of betrayal, fear, and curiosity. After an hour and some minutes, I arrived at Sienna’s seaside home. I drove straight into the driveway, parked and proceeded to walk towards the door.The door swung open before I could even knock. Sienna’s eyes went wide, taking in my soaked clothes, clinging hair, and shivering frame.“Isla! Oh my God, come here!” She pulled me into a fierce hug, pressing me against her warm chest. I could feel the tremor in my body, my wet hair sticking to her sweater. “You’re freezing! Look at you! What happened out there?”I didn’t answer, just let her guide me inside. She helped me peel off my drenched blazer, scolding softly, “God, you’re a mess. You need a shower. Now. Hot water. And after that, tea.







