CHAPTER 5:

Isabella's POV

I was lying down around eight that night when a knock hit my door. I wasn't expecting anyone.

Who could it be at this hour?

I sat up on the bed. The knock came again, harder this time.

I got up and opened the door slowly.

Adrian stood there with several of his security men behind him.

"Adrian, you shouldn't be here like this—"

"I've decided." He pushed past me into the apartment. I backed away instinctively, my heart slamming against my ribs. "I've decided what will happen," he said.

"What are you talking about?"

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, tossing it onto my counter like it weighed nothing. 

My hands shook as I unfolded it, and it took a moment for the words to make sense.

A marriage license. My name. His name. Already signed.

"No." I looked up at him, certain I'd misread it. "Adrian, what is this?"

"You're going to marry me."

"Have you lost your mind?" The words came out sharper than I meant them to, but I was past caring. 

"You think I destroyed your lover's life, and your solution is to marry me?"

"My solution," he said, stepping closer, each word slow and deliberate, "is to keep you exactly where I can watch you. Where you will spend every single day paying for what you did to her.” He took a deep breath, then he continued.

“You wanted to be close to this family so badly? Congratulations. You'll be Mrs. Ashford. You'll wear the ring.

You'll sit at my table. And every morning you'll wake up remembering you're only there because you took the one woman I've ever loved and broke her in half."

"I didn't touch her!" My voice cracked, raw and desperate. "How many times do I have to say it before someone actually listens?"

"I don't care anymore whether you did it with your own hands." His eyes were glassy, unfocused, but the cruelty in them was crystal clear. 

"I care that she's lying in a hospital bed because of jealousy that started in this family, and you're the only one left standing to answer for it."

"You're drunk, Adrian. You're grieving. You don't mean this."

"I've never meant anything more in my life."

"Sit down and sign the document," he said, voice sharp as a blade. "Before we take this further."

I shook my head. "I'm not your enemy, and I'm not the reason for her accident."

He grabbed my hand before I could pull away, pressed a pen into it, his grip like iron around my fingers.

"Sign it." He said arrogantly. 

"No." I twisted, trying to break free.

 "Adrian, let go of me—"

"Sign it, Isabella." His voice dropped low, quiet and terrible, far more frightening than any shout could have been. "Or I make sure everyone in this city knows exactly what I believe you did to the woman I love."

"I didn't do anything to her. You only believe what people tell you."

"I believe it because you did it. You'll sign this. If you don't, I'll make sure you never work again. I'll make sure your name means nothing but scandal for the rest of your life. You have one chance to survive this, Isabella, and it's standing right in front of you."

I blinked. Behind him, one of the guards leaned toward another man, his assistant, and murmured something low. 

The assistant nodded. One guard stayed with me in the room while Adrian stepped out.

Before I could turn around, two more guards came in, one of them holding a length of cloth.

"Behave, and we'll be gentle taking you to the car."

"Why should I—" My chest seized. I couldn't breathe.

"It's an order from our boss," the other one said.

"Don't touch me—" My voice broke off.

Adrian walked back in just as they bound my wrists and ankles. He said nothing, only watched as they carried me out to the car.

"Lie down," one of them said, pushing me flat against the back seat.

The drive was silent until we reached the Ashford penthouse. They carried me inside, into a room, before finally cutting me loose.

Adrian sat across from me, watching.

 "Welcome to the Ashford family, Mrs. Ashford." A soft smile playing in his face. That was the time I saw his smile again.

"What do you want from me?"

He set the marriage license and the pen on the table between us. 

"This is the deal. You don't have a choice."

I wanted to refuse, but two things stopped me.

First, there was the security report Lucy had mentioned to me two days earlier, the one the Ashford family's influence had buried, the one that actually pointed to Marcus Vane, Scarlett's jealous ex, and not to me. I suspected it was true. I just didn't have proof yet.

Second, and far more painful to admit: some small, foolish part of me still hoped that if I stayed close enough, long enough, Adrian might finally remember who I really was. The girl who used to serve him when he was a child.

I took a slow breath and picked up the pen.

My hand shook so badly I could barely hold it steady. 

But some cold, quiet part of me, the part that had survived years standing in Scarlett's shadow, the part that had learned to endure what couldn't be changed, took over.

I signed my name beneath his and let the pen drop.

Adrian didn't smile. He didn't look relieved, or satisfied, or anything close to human. He simply took the paper back, folded it once, and looked at me the way a man looks at a debt finally collected.

"Starting tonight," he said quietly, "you belong to me." He said and left.

A few minutes later, Tim walked in, and I called him.

“I want you to talk to Adrian about the…”

“Mrs. Ashford, my boss, didn't allow any of us to have a conversation with you.” He interrupted immediately.

“Isabella, not Mrs. Ashford.” I corrected.

“I'm not Mrs. Ashford.” I said.

“Until Mr. Ashford says so.” He smiled and walked past me.