The next morning Isla awoke, blinked hard, and let out a low groan as she slowly observed the dark room she suddenly found herself in.It was wide, exclusive, and unfamiliar.Nothing rang a bell.But judging from the little she could see, everything was screaming hotel room.“Wait… a hotel room?”What was she doing in a hotel room? She sat up quickly, placing one palm on her pounding head. “What the hell…”For a long, suspended second, everything was blank. But then, very slowly, the flood of memories before her blackout started to return.Isla gasped, letting out a breath of panic, searching until her fingers found the nearby light switch. She pressed it, and like magic, the shadows instantly vanished from the room.And then she saw him…someone.A figure lying on the couch at the far end of the room. For a second she thought the dizziness was still in her system. She blinked, wiped her face once, then looked again properly.But no, she wasn't dreaming at all… He was real.The s
Isabella’s arrival at the downtown hotel room was still very fresh, yet the walls were already starting to feel too tight for her. Her breathing kept coming in short bursts, her arms folding and unfolding by themselves as she walked from one wall to the next furiously. The memory of how she left Damien’s house had returned again to torment her. This was probably the twelfth time she was flashing back to that night. Her first ejection was bad, but this second one was ten times worse. She just could not erase it from her head: the humiliation, the look on Isla’s smug face as she stood beside Damien like some triumphant queen. The way she… Isabella of all people had been forced to shrink back, to leave in disgrace, like some desperate, broken piece of trash…it was unforgivable. She let out a rush of hot breath and then paused to whisper with her eyes narrowed. “That witch” That wretch… She had bitten off more than she could chew. But tonight… It was going to be a turning poi
It was early evening.Damien and Collins were seated at their usual spot at the rooftop bar with two lowball glasses set before them.However, today they had rare company in their midst. In the person of no one else but Isla’s younger sister…Sophia Carter.She had actually stopped by only moments ago, still dressed in the clothes she wore to work. She wasn’t here to join them for drinks. This was business… secret business.She had come as planned, just as she and her in-law had discussed earlier a few days ago.There was something she was here to collect from Damien, and that was a white, embossed envelope with a soft golden seal. Inside it was the official planning and early guest list for a major event Isla had no clue yet was coming…a surprise wedding. It was supposed to be the final stroke to crown all the struggles and tough victories the couples had experienced together in the past few weeks.So right now, Damien was handing the envelope to her with a calm smile as he murmur
"Can the dead live again?"That was the question hanging in the air as almost everyone in the room stood back with arms frozen to observe the unbelievable sight. Some were still staring, stiff with denial. Others blinked over and over again as if hoping that the image would flash and disappear. But Richard did not disappear. He remained in one place, solid and breathing.Then slowly and very steadily his gaze started to move towards the side of the room where the so-called family lawyer was sitting.Barrister Edward had not so much as blinked since Richard first appeared seconds ago. Now, with the full heat of those resurrected eyes on him, Edward could not help but tremble on his seat.His throat was openly bobbing with effort, but words failed him.Finally Richard opened his mouth to speak, and the first three words from his mouth sounded like gunshots.“How dare you?”Several people gasped. Someone at the back jerked involuntarily.And as for the lawyer himself, he nearly leap
The following morning after his father’s passing, Damien had woken quite early.He was before his reflection again this morning.The expression on his face was hard to read except to his wife… Isla.She was right beside him again, just like yesterday, gently adjusting the collar as it is with their little tradition.But unlike yesterday, she didn’t speak. Her silence was soft and quiet in understanding.It carried respect for his grief.Her eyes lingered on his face, thinking about everything again.It was true that Damien and his late dad had not been close for most of his life. Yes, the man had been absent, cold, and unreachable. But Richard Blackwood was still the only father Damien ever had.The one person who, even in his final days on earth, had tried imperfectly to mend what he had broken. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.And now even he too was gone forever?Isla let out an inaudible sigh, reaching out to fix a cufflink now.A few seconds after this, a sharp sound f
It was a Tuesday morning, just about four days after Isabella's weird departure. Damien was standing tall in his charcoal suit, gazing into his reflection with Isla in front of him.She was helping him adjust his tie with quiet concentration.“There,” she murmured, brushing an imaginary crease on his collar. “Perfect.”The silence between them was comfortable as usual.But just as Isla stepped aside to pick up his comb, the quietness was suddenly interrupted by the persistent sound of Damien’s ringing phone.The sound was coming from the side table by the window.Damien turned slightly with his brows pinched together.“Don’t worry, I’ll check it.” He murmured before Isla could try helping him get it.And in a few seconds he went over there to pick it up, eyes scanning the screen.The caller ID was showing Alexander.His brow immediately furrowed.“Alexander?”“That was rare,”He couldn't remember the last time his stepbrother had called him directly. Apart from Clarissa, the Black