Chapter 6: Rock Bottom

Bella POV

The offer expires at dawn, take the money and sign the NDA. This is your last chance. – CB

I stared at the message for a long moment, my vision blurring as rain streaked down the cracked screen of my phone. My thumb hovered over the response button, a thousand angry words crowding my throat.

Then I pressed delete instead.

Blocked the number.

Removed the SIM card with shaking fingers and threw it away. He had no idea what he'd created when he threw me away.

A few months earlier...

The mansion had never felt like home. How could it, when the man who owned it treated me like an unfortunate piece of furniture he'd been forced to acquire?

I'd moved in a few weeks after the "engagement" though calling it that felt generous. It had been a business transaction, pure and simple. My father's company was circling the drain, my father's decades of mismanagement finally catching up with him. When Caleb's grandmother suggested a merger sealed by marriage, my father's eyes lit up like he'd won the lottery.

"Why not Jade?" he'd asked immediately, already calculating which daughter would fetch the better price. "She's the elder, and far more."

"It will be Bella." Her voice had cut through the room, brooking no argument. Those sharp grey eyes—so like her grandson's—had fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "Or there is no deal."

I'd wanted to ask why. Why me, when Jade was everything I wasn't—beautiful, charming, the daughter my parents actually loved. But I'd learned long ago not to question the rare moments when fortune smiled in my direction, even if that smile felt more like bared teeth.

So I'd packed my meager belongings and moved into Caleb Black's pristine, soulless mansion, into a guest room three doors down from the master suite he occupied alone. He'd made the sleeping arrangements abundantly clear on day one.

"This is a business arrangement," he'd said, not even looking at me as he signed papers at his desk. "You'll have your own space. I expect you to stay out of my way."

And I had. God, I had tried so hard to be invisible, to not be a burden, to somehow earn... what? His attention? His kindness?

His love?

What a fool I'd been.

The weeks crawled by in painful silence. Caleb left before dawn and returned after midnight. When we crossed paths, he looked through me like I was nothing. I ate dinner alone every night at that enormous dining table, the clink of my fork against fine china echoing through empty rooms.

I told myself it was fine. I'd survived worse loneliness growing up in the Hart household, where my parents forgot my birthday but never missed an opportunity to remind me I was the spare, the backup, the daughter they'd never wanted.

At least here, I had caleb grandmother. Caleb's grandmother visited twice a week, her warm presence a stark contrast to her grandson's arctic chill. She taught me about the Black family history, asked about my business degree, and actually listened when I spoke. For the first time in my life, someone saw me—really saw me—and didn't find me lacking.

"He'll come around," she'd said once, patting my hand with her papery fingers. "My grandson has forgotten how to let people in. But you, sweet girl—you have a light he needs, even if he doesn't know it yet."

I'd wanted so desperately to believe her. It happened on a Thursday.

I'd been living in the mansion for weeks, weeks of silence and loneliness and one-sided conversations with empty rooms. I'd stopped hoping for anything to change. But that night, something was different.

I was in the kitchen, cooking dinner—not for both of us, I'd learned that lesson—just for myself. My earbuds were in, some indie playlist keeping me company as I chopped vegetables. I hadn't heard him come home.

"You're still awake."

I nearly dropped the knife, spinning around to find Caleb standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He'd shed his suit jacket, tie loosened, the top button of his shirt undone. But it was his expression that made my breath catch.

He wasn't looking through me.

He was looking at me.

"I'm making dinner," I said stupidly, pulling out an earbud. "I didn't think you'd be home this early, it’s only nine."

"Board meeting ended early." He moved into the kitchen with that predatory grace that always made my pulse stutter. "We closed the Meridian deal."

There was something in his voice I'd never heard before. Satisfaction. Pride. Almost... happiness?

"That's wonderful," I said, meaning it. I knew how important that deal had been—I'd overheard enough of his phone calls through the walls. "Congratulations."

He studied me for a long moment, those grey eyes tracking across my face like he was seeing me for the first time. I became acutely aware that I was wearing old jeans and one of my threadbare college sweatshirts, my hair piled in a messy bun, face free of makeup.

I must have looked like exactly what I was—a girl playing house in a mansion she didn't belong in.

"What are you making?" he asked.

I blinked. "Just... stir-fry. Nothing fancy. I can make extra if you—"

"I haven't had a home-cooked meal in years."

The vulnerability in those words cracked something open in my chest. Before I could think better of it, I smiled. "Then you're in luck. Stir-fry is actually one of the five things I can make without burning down the kitchen."

The corner of his mouth twitched. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was the closest I'd ever seen. "I'll open some wine," he said.