The Choice

Isabella’s POV

Sleep did not come that night.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the city lights flickering through the blinds like silent accusations. Every time I closed my eyes, Alexander’s voice replayed in my head, low and commanding. Marry me. You just have to be mine.

His words clung to me like chains, heavy and unyielding.

Beside me, Ethan slept soundly in his little bed, curled up with his stuffed bear, breathing softly. He was the only reason I was still standing. The only light in the darkness. And the only secret I couldn’t afford to let Alexander discover.

I turned on my side, my heart aching as I watched him. His hair—so dark, like his father’s. His lashes thick against his cheeks. His lips curved slightly, the ghost of a smile playing even in sleep. He was perfection. My perfection.

But if Alexander ever found out the truth…

No. I couldn’t even finish the thought.

I had built my entire life around protecting Ethan. I had worked three jobs when he was a baby, lived in apartments with leaky ceilings and peeling paint, sold every piece of jewelry I’d once owned—anything to make sure he never went without. I had sworn I would never let Alexander Knight sink his claws into my son.

And now fate was laughing in my face.

---

The next morning, I sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee I couldn’t drink. My father sat across from me, his hands trembling as he tried to steady his own mug. His skin looked pale, almost gray, his eyes tired.

“Isabella,” he rasped, “you have to consider Knight’s offer.”

I looked up sharply. “You can’t be serious.”

“What choice do we have?” His voice cracked with desperation. “Reyes Enterprises is hanging by a thread. He’s right—we’ll collapse without intervention.”

My stomach churned. “At the cost of my freedom? My happiness? You want me to marry the man who ruined me?”

My father winced, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I don’t want that for you. But I can’t lose this company. It’s your inheritance, your future—”

“My future is Ethan,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. “Not this company. Not Alexander.”

He flinched at the name, his hands tightening on the mug. “I know you hate him, Isabella. But maybe… maybe this is fate. Maybe you’re meant to—”

“Don’t you dare romanticize this,” I cut him off, my throat tight. “He doesn’t want me. He wants control. He wants revenge.”

My father looked down, silent. The silence stretched between us, thick with everything neither of us could say.

Ethan shuffled into the kitchen then, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. “Mommy?” he mumbled.

I forced a smile, gathering him into my arms. “Good morning, lovebug.”

He buried his face in my neck, warm and soft, smelling faintly of baby shampoo. I held him tighter, as if my embrace alone could shield him from the storm closing in around us.

---

That afternoon, I sat in the park while Ethan played on the swings, his laughter carrying through the crisp autumn air. Parents chatted around me, children ran in circles, the world spinning like everything was normal.

But inside me, nothing was normal.

I kept hearing Alexander’s voice, kept seeing his storm-gray eyes pinning me in place. He was too close, circling like a predator, and sooner or later he would strike.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, scanning the playground as if expecting to see him watching us. My heart raced at the thought. Would he follow me? Had he already?

And then Ethan’s laugh rang out again, sweet and innocent, grounding me. He didn’t know. He didn’t have to carry the weight of this choice. That was mine alone.

I had forty-eight hours to choose between protecting my father’s company and protecting my son’s secret. Between sacrificing myself to a man I both hated and… God help me, still wanted.

Because that was the cruelest part of it all. No matter how much I resented Alexander, no matter how much I swore I was over him, my body still remembered. The way his hands had claimed me, the way his lips had whispered promises in the dark. My skin burned just recalling it, traitorous and weak.

And that terrified me more than anything.

---

By the time evening fell, I was pacing my apartment, unable to sit still. Ethan was drawing at the coffee table, humming to himself, while my father slept in the guest room, exhausted from another day of stress.

Every step I took echoed in my skull. What was I supposed to do?

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to march into Alexander’s office and slap that smug arrogance off his face.

Instead, I poured a glass of wine with shaking hands and stared out the window at the city lights. His city. His empire. And maybe soon, his wife.

The thought made me sick.

But another thought lingered, darker, more dangerous.

What if… what if I said yes?

The idea burned through me, uninvited, unwelcome. Yes would save the company. Yes would spare my father the humiliation of bankruptcy. Yes would put Alexander back in my life, close enough to hurt me all over again.

But saying yes also meant surrender. It meant binding myself to the one man I could never fully escape.

And worst of all, it meant risking Ethan.

Because Alexander Knight was not a man you could deceive forever. Sooner or later, he would see Ethan’s eyes—his own eyes—and the truth would explode like a grenade.

I gripped the wine glass so tightly it nearly shattered in my hand.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I wouldn’t.

---

That night, after I tucked Ethan into bed, I lay awake listening to the silence of the apartment. My thoughts circled endlessly, a storm with no escape.

Alexander had given me forty-eight hours. Twenty-four were already gone.

Tomorrow, I would have to face him.

And I didn’t know if I had the strength to refuse him again.