All Chapters of His Betrayal, His Regret: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Isabel’s POVThe villa felt emptier than usual tonight. Emerson hadn’t come back since he left for work, and I hadn’t heard a word from him all day. At any other time, his silence would be inconsequential. Perhaps even peaceful. But tonight, it stirred an uneasy feeling that settled deep in my chest, filling every quiet corner of the house. Something was wrong. I couldn’t shake the nagging thought.I lay in bed, the hours ticking by as I tried to force myself to sleep. But I kept replaying the last conversation we’d had. I had practically dangled myself as a reward for him finding a doctor for my father. A kiss held out like a promise I wasn’t sure I’d ever keep. Was I making a mistake? Was manipulating him the right way to get what I needed?A sigh escaped me. I turned over in bed, pulling the covers tightly around me, hoping that sleep might finally claim me. But each time I closed my eyes, I saw Emerson’s face. The way his eyes had softened when I adjusted his tie. The confusion

Isabel’s POV“Emerson,” I began, but the words felt trapped in my throat. Was he serious? Did he expect me to kiss him right here, right now? Was he using his vulnerability to manipulate me?“You don’t have to say anything now, Isa.” He tilted his head, that glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes intensifying. “But… tomorrow morning, perhaps?” His smile held a lingering challenge. One that made my stomach twist in a way I wasn’t sure I liked. I was angry at his frivolity, yet I couldn’t allow myself to lose my temper with Emerson. Not while he was in this state. My mind raced. It was all too confusing, too layered with unspoken feelings.“Perhaps…” I said evenly, hoping he wouldn’t press further.And he didn’t. He closed his eyes instead, his pain and exhaustion obvious. “Good night, Emerson,” I said as I retreated quietly.“Night, Isa,” I heard his weak voice behind me.As I returned to my room, the silence enveloped me. But sleep still eluded me. My mind was racing with thoughts. Wha

Isabel’s POVAs the bodyguards drove me home, my mind raced with ideas. Each one more outrageous than the last. How could I get into Emerson’s office? Should I bring him lunch and pretend to be a delivery courier? No, that wouldn’t work; I’d get caught before I even got to his office. My thoughts flickered back to a conversation I’d overheard him having on the phone. His current secretary had been fired, which meant they were taking applications. Yes, that could work!Once I was home, I hurried to rummage through my closet filled with luxurious clothes. Many of the gowns reminded me of parties and galas Emerson had taken me to. This closet was like my old life staring back at me.I searched for something that looked professional and secretary-like. I had to make my fake application look as real as possible.I finally settled on a crisp white blouse paired with a gray pencil skirt. I straightened my golden bob and fastened it half-up with a clasp, giving myself a quick once-over in th

Isabel’s POVEmerson’s amused expression flickered. There was a crack in his usual control that intrigued me. He leaned back against his desk, folding his arms across his chest in a casual stance. Though his eyes betrayed something else—a touch of unease, or maybe hesitation.“What do you mean?” he asked, feigning ignorance. But I knew better.“You know exactly what I mean.” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t regret it. His half-hearted evasions, the careful mix of attentiveness and indifference—it was all wearing thin."One moment, you’re cold and distant, practically pushing me out of your life. The next, you’re telling me I can come and go as I please. You send Lilith away, ask me for… a kiss, and then act as though it never happened. Why, Emerson? Why are you doing all this?”For a long, heavy moment, Emerson didn’t respond. He held my gaze. The amusement was gone from his face. Replaced by something harder to read. His silence drew out. The seconds stretched

Isabel’s POVEmerson’s jaw clenched. He was clearly at a loss. A subtle flash of panic crossed his usually calm blue eyes. “Who told you that?”I folded my arms, raising an eyebrow. “You really think I needed someone to tell me? I’m a clever girl, Emerson. You come home with a stab wound, and the next day my father’s doctor miraculously appears? Don’t insult me by acting like I wouldn’t put two and two together.”He narrowed his eyes, suspicion lacing his expression as he considered my words. Then he seemed to connect the dots himself. His face hardened. “It was Michael, wasn’t it? That son of a—”Before I could stop him, he grabbed the landline phone. The muscles in his forearm tensed as he reached to dial. I caught his hand firmly, feeling the warmth of his skin as I steadied my gaze on him.“Emerson,” I said, my voice soft but unwavering, “grow up. This isn’t about playing the blame game. We need to talk. Like adults.”His blue eyes met mine, and for a moment, the hardness softened.