Isabella’s POVThe moment the door of Mia’s apartment clicked shut behind me, a shiver ran down my spine. Adrenaline still pulsed through my veins, a stubborn reminder that the encounter earlier had been anything but ordinary. I clutched the paper—the second address—tight in my hand. Proof of the trail, yet caution threaded through every thought.The woman I’d met had seemed calm, composed, utterly in control. But her warning carried a weight that pressed against my chest: “Marie Leigh is a name you shouldn’t trust.”The name lingered like smoke, intangible yet suffocating, teasing at the edges of memories I still couldn’t grasp. I sank into the living room sofa, the cushions absorbing tension I could no longer contain. Every detail from the apartment—the hallway, the faint scent of something floral edged with metal—replayed in my mind with unfair clarity.I exhaled slowly, grounding myself. I had survived this encounter. I wasn’t running anymore. But that didn’t mean I could afford c
Kiara’s POVI woke before dawn, the penthouse silent except for the faint hum of the city far below. Sleep had abandoned me hours ago, leaving my thoughts restless and sharpened like knives. My body curled beneath the covers, yet my mind ran circles, replaying every moment from the past twenty-four hours. The intrusion. The audacity. Isabella was standing in Damon’s hospital room, calm, composed, as if she belonged there.Belonged. That word burned on my tongue. Belonged. Not me. Never me.I traced my fingers along the cool edge of the glass coffee table. My reflection stared back at me from the windowpane, pale in the early light. I pressed my palm against the glass and imagined it was his—Damon’s. The one that had once been mine to hold, mine to command, mine to love without contest. And now, it wasn’t.I wasn’t the woman he had first met seven years ago, either. Time had shaped me, honed me, sharpened my instincts. But Isabella… Isabella had walked into our lives and turned everyth
Isabella's POVThe address glowed on my phone screen like a dare. I stared at it, heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. The sender was unknown, the number untraceable, yet the message was unmistakably directed at me. Come here. Alone.My first instinct was disbelief. It could be a trap. Someone could be watching. Someone could be waiting. And yet, somewhere deep in the pit of my chest, determination sparked. Whoever had sent this underestimated me. I wasn’t the same woman I had been eight years ago. I wasn’t running anymore.Mia’s voice broke through the haze of my thoughts. “You’ve been staring at that for ten minutes, Isabella. What’s the verdict?”I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the phone. “It’s… an address. They want me to go. Alone.”Her brow furrowed. “Alone? That’s—dangerous.”“Dangerous is relative,” I muttered, more to myself than to her. “If I don’t go, I’ll never know anything. Not about her… not about me.”Mia exhaled, but her eyes didn’t waver fr
Damon’s POVThe hospital room smelled faintly of antiseptic and the lingering aroma of cleaning supplies. Morning light crept through the blinds, sharp and unforgiving, cutting across the pale walls. I sat on the edge of the bed, hands pressed into my knees, staring at the floor as if it held the answers I was looking for. My ribs throbbed with the reminder of bruises and stitches, but it was the weight in my chest that burned hotter—the knowledge that I’d let her slip away. Isabella.Discharge papers sat on the bedside table, untouched. I didn’t move until the nurse knocked softly and wheeled the clipboard in.“Mr. Whitmore, your doctor cleared you for discharge,” she said, her voice polite but firm. “Someone will need to take you home. Do you have arrangements?”I nodded without speaking, my throat too tight to trust my voice. She left, and the room fell back into quiet. Quiet except for the relentless beating of my thoughts.I hadn’t heard from Isabella since that visit. I shouldn’
Isabella’s POVThe city outside Mia’s apartment was quiet, but my mind was anything but. Even before I opened my eyes, the memory of that text still pressed against me like a weight: Stop looking for her.It should have scared me into silence, into folding away the pieces of my past and tucking them into some corner where no one could reach. But instead, it made me restless, determined. Whoever had sent that message underestimated me. Maybe once, I had been the kind of woman who ran from shadows. Not anymore.I pushed the blanket off and sat up, running a hand over my face. My chest still tightened whenever I thought of Damon, Kiara, the divorce, the chaos that had shredded the life I thought I knew. But this wasn’t about them anymore. This was about me, about Marie Leigh, about a truth buried under smoke and silence.Mia stirred beside me. She always claimed she wasn’t a morning person, but her eyes fluttered open as though she had felt my restlessness through the air itself. “You di
Damon’s POVThe night had settled deep and heavy over the city, but inside the sterile hospital room, the silence felt suffocating. The soft hum of machines and the faint beeping from monitors were the only sounds that punctuated the stillness a mechanical rhythm that felt alien compared to the chaos inside my mind.I lay on the narrow hospital bed, the thin sheets barely hiding the aches from bruises and stitches. The dull throb in my ribs flared sharply every time I shifted, a constant reminder that my body was healing but the pain in my chest, the kind that tightened with every thought of Isabella, felt far worse. It wasn’t a wound that would close with time or medicine.I stared at the ceiling, watching shadows stretch across the pale walls, thinking about everything I’d lost and never dared to say.She left, just like that.The door had closed behind her with a quiet finality I still couldn’t process. The hand I’d held for a fleeting moment, warm and trembling beneath mine, had s