Chapter 16: SPARKS OVER SUPPER.

         Blake stepped into the living room, rolling his shoulders slightly, exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin. The day had been long, filled with meetings, calls, and numbers that blurred together—but all of that faded the moment he saw her.

Isabel.

She was curled up comfortably on the plush couch, a steaming cup of tea in her hands, looking every bit like she belonged. When she saw him, her entire face lit up, her green eyes sparkling with warmth.

"Blake!" She set her cup down and practically launched herself at him.

He caught her easily, laughing under his breath as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

"You act like we haven't seen each other in years," he teased, ruffling her hair playfully.

She pulled back just enough to pout at him. "It feels like years! You barely call, you barely text—do you even remember that you have a sister?"

Blake smirked. "Vaguely."

She gasped dramatically and smacked his arm. "Unbelievable!"

He chuckled, shaking his head as they both sank onto the couch. "Alright, alright. Let’s hear it—how’s school? How’s university life treating you?"

At that, Isabel exhaled, stretching her legs out. "Ugh, stressful as always. Professors have made it their life's mission to ruin me. Assignments. Endless deadlines— Never-ending. But you know… I’m surviving. Barely."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Barely?"

She shot him a look. "Okay, fine. I’m doing well. It’s tough, but I like it. I’ve made some good friends, and believe it or not I’m actually learning stuff."

Blake smirked. "That is shocking."

She nudged him playfully. "Shut up. What about you? How are the businesses? The companies? Holding up without me?"

He let out a low chuckle. "Barely."

Isabel gasped again, placing a hand over her heart. "See? You do miss me."

Blake rolled his eyes but smiled. "Business is good. Things are stable. The companies are growing, profits are up, and, you know… I’m managing."

She hummed thoughtfully. "And what about the house? How’s everything here?

Blake chuckled. "Still the same. Though I’d say it’s slightly less dramatic now that you’re back."

She grinned. "Oh, don’t worry. I’ll fix that in no time, you know I can't wait to be done with school so I can finally join the family businesses."

“Yeah, I can't wait to, I will love that for you.” he said with a smile.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s presence. Then, Isabel’s gaze flickered with something playful as she turned to him again.

"So… the ball."

Blake sighed. "Ah, yes. The grand event."

She smirked. "Are you excited?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn’t go that far. But yeah, I’m prepared. Everything’s set. It’ll be fine."

Isabel studied him for a moment before smiling softly. "Well, I’m happy I’m here for it. It’s been a while since we attended one together."

Blake nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah… it has."

Another pause. And then—

"So…" Isabel started, stretching out the word, mischief creeping into her tone.

Blake immediately tensed. "What?"

She grinned. "Samantha."

Blake’s expression remained neutral, but there was the slightest flicker of something uncertain in his black eyes. "I see you have met her, what about her?"

Isabel leaned in, resting her chin on her hand. "Nothing it's just that she’s lovely. And beautiful. And I really like her."

Blake exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I think she has that effect on people"

She tilted her head. "I just… wasn’t expecting to see a caretaker here. I thought you stopped hiring them."

Blake let out a quiet breath, leaning back into the couch. "Nadia recommended her. Said she needed a job, and she was good at it. So, I let her stay. That’s all."

Isabel studied him, her expression mockingly for a moment. Then, she smiled. "That’s cool. That’s cool."

Blake gave her a knowing look. "You’re saying that like you don’t believe me."

She grinned. "Oh, I believe you. I just think it’s interesting."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Of course, you do."

Isabel chuckled, but her voice softened. "I’m glad she’s here. And I’m glad you have people around you, Blake. Even if you won’t admit it, you need that."

Blake didn’t say anything to that.

Because, maybe—just maybe—she was right.

But instead of confirming or denying it, he simply leaned back, exhaling. "You talk too much, you know that?"

Isabel laughed, nudging him playfully. "And you don’t talk enough. Balance."

Blake chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah."

And just like that, their conversation drifted into another, and then another.

Two siblings. Catching up.

And for the first time in a long time, the house felt a little less heavy.

Tonight.

The dining room glowed with soft, golden light, the chandelier above casting delicate shadows across the polished mahogany table. I stood near the kitchen entrance, unsure whether to slip away or wait for further instructions. After all, this wasn’t my place.

But then, isabel came, taking my hands to the dining

“Samantha, you should have dinner with us,” Isabel’s voice rang out, light and casual, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “Oh—I, um—” My eyes darted to Blake, then Alan, expecting one of them to say something. Maybe remind her that I was just an employee.

Neither did.

Alan simply leaned back in his chair, his expression neutral, while Blake took a slow sip of his wine, offering no protest.

Taking their silence as approval, Isabel beamed. “Perfect! No excuses.” Before I could react, she reached for my arm, practically guiding me to the table like I belonged there.

I hesitated before sitting beside her, but the moment I did, I realized the seating arrangement wasn’t doing me any favors.

Isabel sat to my left.

Alan sat directly across from me. While

Blake, sat at the head of the table.

I swallowed, already feeling the weight of Alan’s gaze from across the table. And Blake’s, though his was more subtle.

The air felt different now—heavier, charged with flying nervousness

As the first course was served, Isabel turned toward me, her green eyes gleaming with curiosity. “So, tell me about yourself,” she said, resting her chin on her hand. “What do you do? What’s your story?”

I hesitated, unused to being the center of attention in a room like this. “Well… I finished school not long ago, but I took this job to save up. I want to own my own business one day.”

Isabel’s brows lifted. “Oh? What kind of business?”

I glanced at my fork, twirling it slightly. “A bookstore. I love and write books… I want to create a space where people can enjoy reading, where stories matter—A small publishing firm, hopefully,” I admitted.

At that, Alan shifted slightly, his sharp eyes never leaving me. “You’re a writer,” he said—not as a question, but as a statement.

My fingers tightened around the fork. “I write sometimes,” I admitted, suddenly feeling exposed. “It’s more of a passion than anything else.”

“Now, that’s cool. What do you write?”

Have you published anything?” Isabel asked, genuinely interested.

“Uh thanks and No, not yet but I write Mostly fiction. I’ve been working on a few projects.” I hesitated before adding, “I haven’t published anything yet, but it’s the goal.”

“You will,” Alan said, the certainty in his voice making my breath catch.

I looked up at him, surprised. His expression was a little bit soft, but there was something in his gaze—something that made my pulse skip.

She looked at her brother and then at me with something close to admiration. “That’s honestly so impressive. Writing takes real discipline.”

“Thank you” I said quickly, placing my hand on hers.

Blake exhaled, setting his glass down. “That’s a big dream,” he mused, his tone neutral. “Takes a lot to run a business.”

I nodded. “I know. But I don’t want to do anything else.”

Isabel grinned. “I like you,” she announced. “You’ve got guts.”

I let out a small laugh, grateful for her warmth.

But even as I focused on her, I could feel it.

Alan’s eyes on me. Blake’s occasional glances.

There was tension in the air—thick, invisible, impossible to ignore.

And then, as I reached for my glass, I caught Isabel looking between Alan and Blake, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

She had noticed.

But she didn’t say a word.

Instead, she simply smiled… and let the night play out.

She continued. “I feel like that’s such a romantic profession—writing. Like, imagine—someone writing deep, heartfelt stories late into the night. That’s the dream, isn’t it?”

I let out a small laugh. “Maybe if you’re not drowning in self-doubt half the time.”

She gasped dramatically. “Oh, I get it. Trust me, university life is a rollercoaster of self-doubt. Some days I feel like I have everything under control, and others… well, let’s just say I consider dropping out at least once a semester.”

Blake chuckled at that, shaking his head. “I thought you loved school.”

“I do,” she sighed, resting her chin on her palm. “But it’s still stressful. And exhausting. And occasionally soul-crushing.”

Blake smirked. “Sounds like you’re coping well.”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” she shot back playfully before turning the conversation around

“And the ball? How’s the preparation going?”

His lips curved into something softer. “Better now that you’re here.”

Her face lit up at that, and for a moment, the warmth between them was almost tangible. They had that kind of sibling bond that was effortless, built on years of understanding.

It was nice to witness.

“Well I am glad Sam's here, I bet she and I will get just along preparing for the bal, won't we?” she shot a cute smile.

I just simply nodded.

“Speaking of the ball…” Isabel’s eyes flickered toward Alan, a teasing glint in them. “Are you bringing anyone?”

The air changed.

I felt it immediately—the way the question lingered, the weight of it pressing down like a held breath.

Alan, who had been quiet for most of the dinner, finally looked up. His black eyes met Isabel’s, stable as ever.

“That doesn’t concern you,” he said coolly.

“Oh, come on, brother,” she pressed on playfully. “Tell me.”

He exhaled slowly, as if debating whether to entertain the question at all. Then, after a long pause, he simply said—

“Maybe.”

Maybe.

The single word was like a pin dropping into a silent room.

Something sharp and uncomfortable twisted in my stomach, but I pushed it down immediately, forcing myself to focus on my plate. It wasn’t my business.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

And yet, the idea of Alan going with someone—some nameless, faceless woman—bothered me more than it should have.

I hated that it did.

Isabel, of course, was completely oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere. She simply raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his answer. “Maybe?” she echoed. “That’s not an answer.”

Alan didn’t respond. He just continued eating, shutting down the conversation without saying another word.

The tension in the room thickened.

I felt Blake’s eyes on me briefly, but I refused to meet them.

I kept my hands steady, my face neutral, willing myself to act as if none of this affected me.

Because it didn’t.

It couldn’t.

But the way Alan had gone right back to his ignoring mode after that one loaded word—maybe—made it clear that whatever had passed between us earlier in the kitchen?

It wasn’t over.

And I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a very, very bad one....

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