Chapt 9. And Yet, With Her, I’m Not Done Playing

Adrian Harrington wasn’t rattled. He calmly put the bowl of chicken soup on the bedside table and arranged it with deliberate care, then turned his head toward Dominic Lancaster. With a sharp tilt of his chin, he said coolly,

“Step outside. We need to talk.”

It was as if Dominic had been waiting for this exact challenge. He smiled, too beautiful, too lethal—an expression that could strip color from the world.

“Whatever you want to say, you can just say it here.”

Isabella Carter blinked in confusion, uncertain of what battle was about to unfold between these two men. The tension in the room felt sharp enough to slice skin. She hesitated, then spoke up timidly, “Mr. Lancaster, since you both clearly have something important to discuss… why don’t I step out for a while?”

She started reaching for the quilt, ready to push it back and climb down. Her fingertips had barely brushed the fabric when a metallic glint flashed through the air.

A lighter.

It hit her across the back of her hand with a sharp sting—not heavy enough to bruise, but enough to make her gasp.

Dominic’s gaze cut across her like a blade. 

“Did I say you could move?” His voice was low and lacked emotion. “Lie down. Stay put.”

With that, his eyes slid back to Adrian. “See? She’s very obedient. Speak freely.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. His eyes flickered to Isabella’s reddened hand, and his expression darkened with fury. His words came out clipped, each one carrying the edge of suppressed rage.

“Dominic, if you insist on keeping her by your side, how do you think Sophia would feel?”

At the mention of that name, Dominic stilled. He rolled the ring on his finger, and his expression was unreadable. His eyes, however, gleamed with an icy sharpness.

“And what exactly are you suggesting I do, Adrian?”

“Send her away. Make her leave the City,” Adrian demanded, his voice taut. For one heartbeat, his eyes lingered on Isabella’s pale face. Then, almost violently, he tore his gaze away.

Isabella’s chest constricted as though something inside had snapped. She bit her lip until it nearly bled but said nothing.

Dominic’s fox-like eyes narrowed, a flicker of violence flashing through them before he smoothed it over with a deceptively easy smile.

“Her work attitude is commendable. She’s diligent and uncomplaining. By all accounts, I see no reason to dismiss her.”

“Commendable?” Adrian’s anger surged, his voice started rising. He slammed a hand against the nearest chair and, with a sharp shove, sent it crashing to the floor. The sound rang through the sterile hospital room like a gunshot.

“Miranda’s club is dripping with wealth and talent. You’re telling me you can’t find another hostess? Fine then—let me poach this employee from you. Would that satisfy you, Lancaster?”

There it was—the crack in Adrian’s composure.

Dominic smoothed a hand down his tailored suit jacket, utterly unbothered. His tone was deceptively light, almost mocking.

“By rights, you and I have been brothers since childhood. If you want someone from me, I’ve no reason to refuse. But the problem is…” His eyes sharpened, lips curling into something cruel. “Of all the people you could ask for, it had to be her. And with her, Adrian, I’m not done playing yet.”

Adrian’s chest heaved with fury.

“Playing? What’s left to play? Look at her! In this condition, what is there left to enjoy?”

“Enough!”

The word burst from Isabella’s lips before she could stop herself. She couldn’t endure another second of being bartered back and forth like some trivial possession. Drawing in a shaky breath, she lifted her head to meet Adrian’s gaze.

“Mr. Harrington … I have no intention of changing jobs. But thank you for your concern.”

Adrian stared at her as if she’d just struck him. Disbelief and anger waged war across his face.

“Isabella, do you even understand what you’re saying?”

Of course she did. She knew he meant well. She knew he wanted to shield her. But the Harrington family name—Sophia Harrington most of all—had already pushed her into hell once. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let herself get entangled with Adrian any further.

Her voice trembled, but her words were steady.

“I know last night upset you. That’s why you can’t seem to let me go today. But if it’ll ease your anger, Mr. Harrington, then say the word. I’ll do whatever you want. Even if it means going back outside and kneeling again.”

Adrian’s throat worked as though he were choking on unspoken words. His face twisted, his fury warring with pain.

“You think I can’t let you go? Is that it?” His laugh was brittle, sharp. “All this time, it’s only ever been me meddling where I shouldn’t. Miss Carter… take care of yourself.”

The door slammed behind him with a violence that made the walls shudder.

For reasons she couldn’t name, Isabella exhaled shakily, almost in relief.

But the reprieve lasted only seconds.

Above her, that cold, unforgiving voice sliced through the quiet.

“Old tricks, Isabella? Have you rekindled a past romance now? Seems prison didn’t completely waste your time—you’ve picked up a few useful tactics.”

Her eyes widened in shock. She looked up at Dominic, only to find him smiling, but with no warmth, only venom.

His words landed like shards of ice, and she seemed to be confused.

“The Harrington family would gladly tear you apart piece by piece. And you—” His gaze was merciless. “You think cozying up to Adrian Harrington will save you? That’s not survival, Isabella. That’s suicide.”

She finally gets what he meant. The room felt suddenly colder, her blood running thin as winter frost spread through her veins.

She lowered her head and whispered,

“Don’t worry, Mr. Lancaster. Whatever games your circle plays… I don't want to be part of it anymore.”