CHAPTER 3

HIS CURSE; HER BLESSING

(Isla’s POV)

Ethan looked at me like I had just shattered his entire world.

He grabbed the wheelchair's armrest tightly. His jaw clenched so hard that I thought he was going into a convulsion.

But it was his eyes—sharp, calculating, filled with something unknown—that sent a shiver down my spine.

"What did you just say?" he repeated, his voice a little steady now.

I held my ground, meeting his sharp gaze. "I said I can help you walk again."

The room fell into another round of suffocating silence.

Then, suddenly, he laughed again. A bitter, humorless chuckle that sent chills through me.

"Is that why you agreed to this marriage?" His voice was laced with mockery. "Did my father send you this pathetic lie to keep me under his thumb? He should know better.”

His father? I frowned. "No one sent me. And it’s not a lie."

Ethan’s eyes darkened. "You expect me to believe that? That you—a Carter—somehow know more than the best doctors in the world?"

I took a slow breath, trying to compose myself. "I don’t expect you to believe me," I said calmly. "I expect you to give me a chance to prove it."

His expression didn’t change, but I could see the way his fingers twitched against the armrest, how the muscles in his jaw tensed as if he was trying to control himself from reacting.

"Get out," he said, voice cold and final.

I didn’t move.

He snapped at me all of a sudden, and I could see anger in his eyes.  "I said, get out."

I squared my shoulders, forcing confidence into my voice. "Are you really in a position to refuse me so easily?"

His lips curled into a sneer. "I’d rather rot in this chair than entertain your ridiculous fantasy and lies.” 

I took a step closer. "Then rot."

Hr turned his head slightly, clearly not expecting that response.

I kept my voice steady, unyielding. "Sit here in your mansion, waste away, let your enemies tear apart the legacy you built. Be exactly what they expect—a cripple, a failure. But don’t blame me when you wake up one day and realize you had a chance to fight back, and you let it slip through your fingers."

Ethan’s breath hitched, just slightly. He hid it well, but I saw it.

I had struck a nerve.

A long, tense silence stretched between us.

Then, his fingers tapped against the wheelchair, slow and deliberate. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Isla Carter," he murmured.

I exhaled. "Maybe. But I know what I’m doing."

He studied me for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned his wheelchair away from me, rolling toward the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the darkened estate.

"Leave," he said again, but this time, his voice lacked its earlier hostility.

I didn’t argue. I had accomplished what I wanted. All I need to do now is wait and let him come to me. Let him be ready. 

I turned and walked out of the room, my heart hammering as I reached the hallway.

I had done it. I had forced Ethan Seedorf to listen.

But I knew one thing for sure—this was far from over.

I barely made it to my assigned bedroom before the fatigue hit me.

The room was grand, far more elegant than anything I’d ever had at the Carter estate. But it was still cold. Lifeless. Just like the Seedorf mansion itself.

I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my temples. My body was still tense from my confrontation with Ethan, my nerves buzzing with adrenaline.

I had risked everything by speaking so boldly. If he truly wanted to, he could have me thrown out before the marriage was finalized. He could destroy me with a single word.

But he wouldn’t.

Because despite all his anger, all his disbelief—there was doubt.

And doubt was enough.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

I frowned. No one here would bother with me.

I stood and opened the door, expecting a servant.

Instead, I was met with a sharp pair of eyes—the same piercing blue as Ethan’s, but filled with something icy.

A man stood in the hallway, tall and composed, dressed in a sharp black suit that screamed power.

 He had the same facial features as Ethan but carried himself with a ruthless kind of authority.

I recognized him immediately.

Sebastian Seedorf.

Ethan’s older brother.

My throat felt dried. Ethan rarely spoke of his family, but I knew enough. Sebastian was everything Ethan used to be—powerful, influential, respected. And unlike Ethan, he wasn’t bound to a wheelchair.

Sebastian studied me for a long moment before finally speaking.

"That was a bold move," he said, his voice smooth but added with warning. "You must be very confident… or very foolish."

I lifted my chin. "Which do you think?"

He tilted his head slightly, as if amused. "I think," he said slowly, "that you don’t know what you’ve just involved yourself in."

I forced myself to hold his gaze. "Ethan is my husband-to-be. That makes it my business."

Sebastian’s lips curved into a sharp smile. "Is that so?"

Something in his voice made my stomach twist.

He took a step closer, his presence suffocating. "Listen to me carefully, Isla Carter," he murmured. "You may think you’re playing a game, but this—" he gestured to the grand mansion, to the weight of the Seedorf name "—is not something you can manipulate. Ethan is a dead man walking. A broken heir clinging to what little power he has left. The sooner you realize that, the better."

I clenched my fists. "You don’t know what he’s capable of."

Sebastian chuckled, the sound of a taunt was evident in his voice "And neither do you."

He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"If you value your life, Isla, you’ll walk away before it’s too late."

A chill ran down my spine.

But I refused to look away.

Instead, I met his warning head-on.

"I’m not leaving."

Sebastian’s smile didn’t falter, but something flickered in his eyes, he gave me a dangerous look.

He straightened, adjusting the cuff of his expensive suit. "We’ll see," he said smoothly.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the doorway with my heart beat racing.

I closed the door behind me, exhaling sharply.

Sebastian wasn’t just warning me.

He was threatening me.