The next morning Isla discovered Damien had disappeared from the mansion.After her return from work yesterday, she had carried herself through her routine blindly, dodging the memory of everything that had taken place before she closed from work, and barely seen Damien since then. All that she had heard yesterday from her room notifying her that he was back was the echo of his footsteps on the stairs and of the maids greeting him.He also had not bothered to check up on her. And strangely, she wasn’t sure if she was relieved by that or disappointed.This morning, he just left without even leaving as little as a text or a voicemail behind.Although she tried searching a few extra places to be double sure of the observation, particularly his study. Yet she had found nothing, he was really gone.“Just like that? Was that how it is now?”After letting out a gasp she blinked rapidly as she tried to make sense of the sinking feeling.Soon after that, she stepped back, walked to the nearest
Isla stared at Damien for a little too long.She allowed his question to hang in the air at first because of the speed with which he had caught her off guard and secondly, because she could not seriously believe he was asking her that. So he really wanted to know if she would be okay with him bringing in his mistress…or old friend rather than living in a space that was supposed to be theirs. In the end, she gave a small shrug.“Why are you asking if it would bother me?” Her tone managed to remain smooth, but there was a glint in her eye. “I thought personal feelings weren’t allowed.”Damien didn’t blink. His eyes, however, stayed fixed on her like he was trying to read her mind as usual.“I’m simply being polite,” he finally replied coolly.Isla’s face twisted, her nose wrinkled, then she shook her head at once.“No,” She blurted. “No, you’re just being cruel.”Then without waiting for what he would say next, she turned around sharply to resume her procession to her room, disappear
Isla stared back at Isabella. Her posture did not change, but the meaning behind her unsolicited history lesson did not go unnoticed. It hung in the air like poison. Isla controlled her expression and tried not to let it show on her face. She folded her arms slightly, offering a cool smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and in an equally dry tone she responded, “Well, lucky you still remember.” There was a pause; Isabella lifted one of her brows as if she were amused or unimpressed. But in the end, she said nothing else. The quiet animosity between the ladies stretched taut, heavy like a cloud of rain that refused to burst. Getting to her boutique later that morning, Isla entered her office, shut the door, and lowered herself into her chair with an attitude to speak of restraint. She was in a fight with herself, her head, and her mind, trying not to think of the last few minutes back home and, as a matter of fact, the last 24 hours. Trying not to think of Damien and his
It was 11:43 PM and the entire estate was now swallowed by silence.Yet back in her room, Isla was still awake sitting upright at the edge of the bed, with her back arched forward. The duvet remained untouched behind her.And her right hand was holding up her phone at eye level as the screen reflected in her tired weary eyes. She was staring at the message box specifically, the space where Nate’s strange text earlier that evening had once been.The single message that bore just his name.Just “Nate.”Of course, she had since deleted it, but the memory of it still disturbed her head like a stubborn echo.But why?She had not stopped asking herself that question since she came back from work hours ago. No typo, no follow-up text. No missed calls. “Nothing”Just that one name. Sent deliberately. As though meant to say something without saying anything at all.What was his motive now? What was Nathaniel planning?She didn’t know what to make of it, but she knew that bitch that was l
Later that afternoon, Damien was back in the office. His posture was relaxed but not completely. His eyes, though focused on the document before him, hadn’t truly read a single word in the last half hour. They were as distant as that of a man present in a room but miles away in thought.He ground his teeth.For the last few minutes since his return, he had been thinking about his last parting words to Isla at her boutique after the slightly heated exchange between them.“Don’t forget this is just a contract. No personal feelings.”The words echoed in his head again, like something someone else had said. He dragged a hand across his face. What was he even thinking when he said that? Isla’s face when he uttered those words was still very much clear in his head, her silence, her distant eyes. He remembered it all too well now. And it stung more than he expected. He hummed and said nothing else.His thoughts now went farther back to earlier that same morning, back at the mansion. Damie
A week had passed now since Damien and Isla's heated exchange and in the days that came by, neither of them had brought it up.Not once. But that did not mean that things had remained the same between them. The exact opposite had happened.Like before, when they had once crossed lines and silently stepped back this time, the retreat wasn’t colored with the tension of attraction but the quiet hostility of emotional distance. It was Isla, especially, who started to draw this line.The leisurely meals she used to cook once in a while had immediately stopped.The waiting up she once did for him whenever he was delayed at work was gone, too. Now, the kitchen belonged fully to the maids again, just the way Damien supposedly preferred it. A contract of convenience right? Nothing more.And Isla stuck to this role with a new stony discipline. Her movements were triangular now; wake. Dress. Work. Return. Sleep. Repeat. No glances nor greetings.At first, Damien acted like he didn’t notice
Isabella was literally glued to Damien's side as they arrived at the venue of the Blake Group’s much-anticipated gala later that night.Damien's attention seemed to be elsewhere, despite being right beside her. His eyes were vague and distant.And when they finally got into the main hall, his eyes swept the entirety of the large room the moment they were past the door.He looked searching, he looked calculating.It was obvious he wasn’t here just to sip wine or listen to some bland, repetitive music. Neither was he here to schmooze or pose for staged photos. Not really.As far as Damien was concerned, this was his definition of strategy.The organizers of this event, ”The Blake Group,” were no ordinary conglomerate. It was a machine of influence. Philanthropy was only a scratch on the surface of what they were actually about. Beneath it ran an even deeper stream of power: talking about quiet funding for political campaigns, backdoor partnerships with foreign stakeholders, and now,
Caden’s lips twitched after Damien bounced his handshake, holding the other man’s gaze steady, his eyes quiet but alert. The heated moment was soon interrupted when the Damien's step sister, the ever cheerful Clarissa who was also in the event breezed completely unaware of the faceoff. “Oh! There you two are!” she exclaimed light heartedly, her attention flitting between the tense men. “Hi Damien!” she added with a quick hug to her stepbrother who barely hugged her back before her eyes brightened further at the sight of Isla. “You’re looking gorgeous issy!” she gushed, looping an arm through Isla’s own without hesitation. “Come, I want to introduce you to someone, he’s crazy about fashion and French cheese.” Isla blinked, a little thrown off but allowed herself to be led, casting a last glance over her shoulder as Clarissa chattered away. Damien waited only for about two seconds before his face returned to Caden. The sharpness in his eyes remained, but his voice was
It has been two weeks now since Caden returned to the city. And with Isla having him around, it was like reliving the good old days over again.Caden appeared to have brought with him that part of her life that had not been touched by the mess and the chaos that now defined the rhythms of her new life.It gave her the life before Damien, before Vanessa, before Nate. Before all of them.She found herself remembering the times when Caden used to yank her out of her overfilled schedule with a cup of coffee and a smirk, telling her she was way too brilliant to be this boring.How he would make her laugh no matter how bad her day was going or was.They had been close. Too close, maybe.There was even a point when she once dared to hope that the flutter in her chest whenever he was around her meant something more.But funny enough, it was Caden himself who had insisted that they remained just friends. And somehow, it felt like those old, meaningful, fun years had been folded into seconds.
The guest wing of the Damien's mansion was exceptionally quiet on this morning. Damien himself had since left for work and as for Isla, she was still up-stairs locked up as was usual with her nowadays, particularly with exchange that had happened yesterday between herself and Damien.However, somewhere in corner of the same room, sitted perfectly on the edge of a chaise with her back straight and one leg elegantly crossed was Isabella.Her phone was held gently to her ear as he seemed to talking to someone via call.But the tone she was speaking with was suspiciously low, edged with something like dark motive.“Yes,” She whispered first and then stopped to pause.Her eyes glancing around the room briefly, and expertly as if to be sure she was alone.And indeed there was no one else around.This realization made her shoulders drop more relaxedly.When she spoke again, her tone sounded a little firmer and yet a little quicker,“He’s starting to crack trust me… much easier than I thou
Nate didn't say a word the moment he and Vanessa got home from the gala later that night, and on entry, he just held the door open.Vanessa followed right after, her face tightly composed in a way that only made the storm behind her eyes more obvious. Her spine was stiff and her arms both crossed.The door shut with a dull thud behind them.Vanessa exhaled sharply and began pacing the expansive living room. Nate had stopped just a few steps from the door. His hands were deep in his pockets, his posture rigid but calm too calm. A few seconds after this, Vanessa suddenly lost whatever cool she had been trying to keep, she spun around abruptly, her voice ringing out like thunder,"What the hell was that back there, Nate?"She asked with her arms flying out wildly, "I mean... Did you begin by messaging her a few days back? Now you're trying to get her attention right where I was? Or wait a second…”She paused with a finger touching her temple.“Do you still love her? Is that it? Or
The silence between them became tighter, Damien’s dark eyes continued to narrow slightly as the tension between them doubled in heat.Neither of them looked away. Their gazes clashed, as the seconds dragged by to the point that even the extra large sitting room appeared to be getting smaller around them.Finally, Damien’s voice brought an end to the silence, the tone of it, low and accusing."Are you playing with me?"He said and moved closer, one deliberate step at a time, "You told me you had a meeting,” Damien continued.“Was this meeting of yours Caden Blake?”At the mention of the name, Isla blinked once, her lashes brushing her cheek, and then she let out a short, bitter scoff. Her arms looked like they were going stiff at her sides.“Wait. Did you just say meeting?” She asked with raised brows.“That’s your problem? A meeting? The same one I wasn’t even properly informed about?”She hadn’t even finished when Damien’s voice snapped with impatience, cutting her off with a shar
Caden’s lips twitched after Damien bounced his handshake, holding the other man’s gaze steady, his eyes quiet but alert. The heated moment was soon interrupted when the Damien's step sister, the ever cheerful Clarissa who was also in the event breezed completely unaware of the faceoff. “Oh! There you two are!” she exclaimed light heartedly, her attention flitting between the tense men. “Hi Damien!” she added with a quick hug to her stepbrother who barely hugged her back before her eyes brightened further at the sight of Isla. “You’re looking gorgeous issy!” she gushed, looping an arm through Isla’s own without hesitation. “Come, I want to introduce you to someone, he’s crazy about fashion and French cheese.” Isla blinked, a little thrown off but allowed herself to be led, casting a last glance over her shoulder as Clarissa chattered away. Damien waited only for about two seconds before his face returned to Caden. The sharpness in his eyes remained, but his voice was
Isabella was literally glued to Damien's side as they arrived at the venue of the Blake Group’s much-anticipated gala later that night.Damien's attention seemed to be elsewhere, despite being right beside her. His eyes were vague and distant.And when they finally got into the main hall, his eyes swept the entirety of the large room the moment they were past the door.He looked searching, he looked calculating.It was obvious he wasn’t here just to sip wine or listen to some bland, repetitive music. Neither was he here to schmooze or pose for staged photos. Not really.As far as Damien was concerned, this was his definition of strategy.The organizers of this event, ”The Blake Group,” were no ordinary conglomerate. It was a machine of influence. Philanthropy was only a scratch on the surface of what they were actually about. Beneath it ran an even deeper stream of power: talking about quiet funding for political campaigns, backdoor partnerships with foreign stakeholders, and now,
A week had passed now since Damien and Isla's heated exchange and in the days that came by, neither of them had brought it up.Not once. But that did not mean that things had remained the same between them. The exact opposite had happened.Like before, when they had once crossed lines and silently stepped back this time, the retreat wasn’t colored with the tension of attraction but the quiet hostility of emotional distance. It was Isla, especially, who started to draw this line.The leisurely meals she used to cook once in a while had immediately stopped.The waiting up she once did for him whenever he was delayed at work was gone, too. Now, the kitchen belonged fully to the maids again, just the way Damien supposedly preferred it. A contract of convenience right? Nothing more.And Isla stuck to this role with a new stony discipline. Her movements were triangular now; wake. Dress. Work. Return. Sleep. Repeat. No glances nor greetings.At first, Damien acted like he didn’t notice
Later that afternoon, Damien was back in the office. His posture was relaxed but not completely. His eyes, though focused on the document before him, hadn’t truly read a single word in the last half hour. They were as distant as that of a man present in a room but miles away in thought.He ground his teeth.For the last few minutes since his return, he had been thinking about his last parting words to Isla at her boutique after the slightly heated exchange between them.“Don’t forget this is just a contract. No personal feelings.”The words echoed in his head again, like something someone else had said. He dragged a hand across his face. What was he even thinking when he said that? Isla’s face when he uttered those words was still very much clear in his head, her silence, her distant eyes. He remembered it all too well now. And it stung more than he expected. He hummed and said nothing else.His thoughts now went farther back to earlier that same morning, back at the mansion. Damie
It was 11:43 PM and the entire estate was now swallowed by silence.Yet back in her room, Isla was still awake sitting upright at the edge of the bed, with her back arched forward. The duvet remained untouched behind her.And her right hand was holding up her phone at eye level as the screen reflected in her tired weary eyes. She was staring at the message box specifically, the space where Nate’s strange text earlier that evening had once been.The single message that bore just his name.Just “Nate.”Of course, she had since deleted it, but the memory of it still disturbed her head like a stubborn echo.But why?She had not stopped asking herself that question since she came back from work hours ago. No typo, no follow-up text. No missed calls. “Nothing”Just that one name. Sent deliberately. As though meant to say something without saying anything at all.What was his motive now? What was Nathaniel planning?She didn’t know what to make of it, but she knew that bitch that was l