The boardroom had never been this quiet.The polished oak table stretched like a battlefield between Isla and the Blackwell board members, every seat filled with stiff-backed executives whose loyalty had long tilted toward Claire Blackwell’s iron rule.But not today. Today, something changed.Isla Montgomery stood at the head of the table, her storm-grey eyes burning with unshaken determination. Her black power suit, cinched at the waist, gave her the poise of a woman who was not merely surviving, but commanding the entire room.Today, she looked like the ice queen which she was."Before we begin," she said, voice smooth as velvet but edged in iron, "I have a few guests who’d like to share their story."Confused glances darted around the room. Lucian leaned back in his seat, his one hand clenched into a quiet fist under the table, watching Isla with wordless pride.The doors opened.Two women entered.Familiar to some of the board, forgotten by others. One in her late thirties, the ot
The villa was cloaked in an unusual stillness that evening, as if time had momentarily slowed to breathe in the softness returning to a life that had known too many storms. Rain tapped gently against the high windows, and inside, golden light flickered across the walls like something out of a half-forgotten dream.He and Isla were still living together in the same villa and spent time with their son here though it was a bit hard to keep him with them the whole day due tk the boarding school rules.Lucian Blackwell sat in the reading room, a glass of scotch untouched beside him, eyes flicking between the fireplace and the hallway. He had been doing that often lately, waiting for her.Isla.She arrived dressed simply with no designer armor, no red painted lips that sliced like daggers. Just Isla, raw, real and quiet. The woman who once walked away with blood on her heels now returned with a war drum in her chest and tenderness in her hands."You’re early today," Lucian said, his voice l
Lucian’s penthouse had always felt warmer to Isla Montgomery, all tall ceilings, cold marble, and an eerie hush that belonged more to a cathedral than a home. But as she stepped into Lucian’s old study that morning, something changed. Yes, today she was at his penthouse today to get some files related to work and Lucian had not stopped her as well.Sunlight spilled across the mahogany shelves and dust-dappled air. A forgotten warmth. The air smelled faintly of aged whiskey, old leather, and something familiar like cedarwood and bergamot. It was Lucian’s scent. The man she had once loved more than herself , then loved out loud, and finally… left behind. The man who had disappointed her and the same man who was now doing everything to have her back, to protect her.She wasn’t looking for anything when she opened the drawer in the side credenza. It was more like an instinct. The way her fingers hovered over the brass handle, as if guided by a memory of past The drawer creaked open pen
The morning sun spilled across the Blackwell Corporation's mirrored facade like liquid gold, but Isla Montgomery didn’t feel its warmth. She stood in the executive lounge sipping her double espresso, her stormy gray eyes scanning over a board report. Crisp, sharp, and poised in a navy power suit that hugged her form like armor, Isla looked every bit the commanding business woman she had become. But under that icy composure was a fire newly lit and Leo Stone had noticed it.Lucian had warned her once and long ago, that Leo was like a panther in silk. That Leo was deadly and patient. Now she saw what he meant.The boardroom buzzed as executives took their seats. Lucian entered, stone-faced and regal in a tailored charcoal suit, giving Isla the briefest glance. Their energy remained unreadable to others but electric beneath the surface. She could feel it in the quiet moments they shared lately. There was a hint of unspoken forgiveness. Mutual longing in her eyes for him. The slow ache o
The city hummed outside the glass walls of the café, but inside, there was a different kind of tension. Isla Montgomery sat at the corner table dressed sharply in a steel-grey pantsuit, her stormy eyes locked on the door. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on her cup, from calculation. Aaric was at his school and Isla and Lucian had decided to pick him up once they're done with this work.And today wasn’t just a meeting. It was a rebellion.The door opened. Two women entered, both of them cautious. One wore a navy blazer, the other a simple cardigan. They looked out of place here, not because of how they dressed, but because of how they carried themselves. Like survivors. Like warriors.Isla stood up to greet them."Thank you for coming. I know this wasn’t easy."The woman in the blazer, Serena Kline, nodded hesitantly. “You said it’s safe to talk here.”“It is,” Isla assured. “But more than that it’s time we stop being silent.”They sat. The conversation started slowly. Serena and the
The rain fell in silver ribbons that streaked across the villa’s balcony, each drop sounding like a soft heartbeat against the wooden floor. The sky hung heavy, dimming the world into shades of blue and grey. Isla stood barefoot, the hem of her dress damp, her arms folded across her chest as she stared out over the garden. The storm had finally come not just in the clouds, but in her as wellLucian stepped out quietly behind her. His steps were light, tentative, as if he feared she might vanish with the next gust of wind. She didn’t turn, but she felt his presence. The soft creak of the balcony, the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the rain-soaked air.“Isla,” he said, voice low and raw. Heavy with emotions. She closed her eyes. The storm blurred everything before her. But it couldn’t blur the ache inside her heart.“You shouldn’t be out here. You’ll catch a cold,” she whispered.He stepped beside her, silent for a moment. Then, “I needed to see you.”She looked up at the sky.