ISLA'S POV
I couldn't breathe.
Victor Laurent's eyes followed me across the ballroom like a predator tracking prey.
You're shaking, Damien said quietly, his hand still on my back. What's wrong?
Nothing, I lied, forcing my voice steady. I'm just not used to places like this.
His dark eyes searched my face. He didn't believe me. But before he could push, another couple approached—more fake smiles, more empty greetings.
I played my part. Smiled. Nodded. Stayed silent like a good companion should.
But my mind was racing.
Victor Laurent. The man who killed my mother. The man who stole my inheritance. The man who destroyed my father's company.
He was here. Within arm's reach.
And he'd looked at me like he almost recognized Elena's daughter.
Isla. Damien's sharp voice cut through my thoughts. They asked you a question.
I blinked. A woman in a red dress was staring at me expectantly.
I'm sorry, what?
The woman's smile turned condescending. I asked how you and Damien met. It's such a romantic story, I'm sure.
Romantic. Right.
We met through... business, I said carefully.
Business? The woman laughed. How mysterious. Damien, you never tell us anything about your personal life.
Because it's personal, Damien said coldly. If you'll excuse us.
He steered me away before I could make another mistake.
Pay attention, he hissed in my ear. You're making me look bad.
Sorry I'm not a professional liar like you.
His grip on my back tightened, almost painful. What did you say?
Nothing. I pulled away from him slightly. I need air.
We're not leaving—
I need the bathroom then. Unless you're going to follow me in there too?
His jaw clenched. Five minutes. Then come straight back.
I escaped into the crowd before he could change his mind.
The bathroom was down a long hallway, away from the noise and lights. I splashed cold water on my face, careful not to ruin Mrs. Lin's makeup work.
Victor Laurent.
My hands gripped the marble sink.
I should confront him. Scream at him. Tell everyone what he did.
But I had no proof. No power. No leverage.
Just a dead mother's voice on a USB drive and a father dying in a hospital.
The bathroom door opened.
Sophie Zhang walked in, wearing a red dress that showed too much skin. Her eyes widened seeing me.
Isla? She looked genuinely shocked. What are you doing here?
I could ask you the same thing.
Marcus's company partners with several people here. He got us invitations. She moved closer, her expression shifting to fake concern. I heard about your father. How awful. Is he—
Don't. My voice came out sharp. Don't pretend you care.
Sophie's mask dropped. Her smile turned mean. You're right. I don't care. In fact, I'm glad your father's company collapsed. Glad Marcus dumped you. You always acted so superior, so perfect. Now look at you.
Get out of my way.
What are you doing here anyway? Did you sneak in? Because there's no way someone like you belongs at an event like— She stopped, her eyes catching on my diamond earrings. My designer dress. Wait. Who brought you here?
None of your business.
Oh my god. Sophie's eyes lit up with malicious glee. You found a rich man, didn't you? Some desperate sugar daddy who—
I said get out of my way.
I pushed past her, but she grabbed my arm.
Does he know? Sophie asked sweetly. Your rich boyfriend. Does he know about your family's debt? About how desperate you are? I wonder what he'd think if someone told him the truth.
Fear spiked through me. Sophie—
Relax. She released my arm. Your secret's safe with me. For now. But if you make Marcus look bad, if you cause any problems for us, I'll make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of gold digger you really are.
She walked out, her laughter echoing in the hallway.
I stood alone, my whole body shaking.
Five minutes had passed. Maybe more.
I needed to get back before Damien came looking for me.
But as I turned to leave, I heard voices from a nearby office. The door was slightly open, light spilling into the hallway.
I should have kept walking.
Instead, I moved closer.
don't care about your excuses, Laurent. A man's angry voice. The shipment was supposed to arrive last week.
These things take time. Victor Laurent's smooth reply. Patience, Mr. Chen.
My heart stopped.
Chen. Like my father's name.
I pressed against the wall, listening.
My patience ran out when you sabotaged my business, the other man said. You promised partnership. Instead, you destroyed everything I built.
Unfortunate timing, Victor said, sounding bored. The market shifted. Your company couldn't adapt.
You falsified documents! Created fake debts! You deliberately—
Careful with your accusations. Unless you have proof?
Silence.
That's what I thought. Victor's voice turned cold. Consider this a lesson. Cross me again, and next time it won't just be your business that suffers. It'll be your family.
Footsteps approached the door.
I ran.
Back toward the ballroom, my heels clicking on marble floors, my heart pounding.
Victor Laurent wasn't just a killer. He was actively destroying people. Creating fake debts to bankrupt competitors.
Just like he'd done to my father.
I burst back into the ballroom, breathless and shaking.
Damien appeared immediately, his expression thunderous. Fifteen minutes. I said five.
I'm sorry, I got lost—
You're lying. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me close. His eyes searched my face. What happened?
Nothing. I just
Isla.
The way he said my name—sharp and demanding—made the truth almost spill out.
But I caught it just in time.
I saw my ex-fiancé's new girlfriend in the bathroom, I said, which was true. She said some nasty things. It upset me.
Damien's expression darkened. Who?
It doesn't matter
Who. Was. It.
Sophie Zhang.
His eyes scanned the ballroom. Point her out.
Why?
Because no one upsets what's mine without consequences.
There it was again. That possessive, protective anger that confused me.
Please don't make a scene, I said quietly. It's not worth it.
Damien studied me for a long moment. Then, surprisingly, he nodded.
Fine. But if she approaches you again, you tell me immediately. Understand?
Yes.
Yes, what?
I swallowed my pride. Yes, Mr. Cross.
His hand moved from my wrist to my waist, pulling me against his side. We're leaving soon. I've made enough appearances. Can you survive another thirty minutes without running off?
I'll try my best.
Something that might have been amusement flickered in his eyes. Sarcasm. Interesting. Most people are too afraid of me to be sarcastic.
Maybe I'm stupid.
Or brave. His gaze intensified. I haven't decided which yet.
We moved through the crowd together. More fake smiles. More empty conversations.
And always, I felt Victor Laurent's eyes watching me.
Finally, mercifully, Damien said we were leaving.
In the car, I slumped against the leather seat, exhausted.
You did well tonight, Damien said unexpectedly. Better than I expected.
I didn't embarrass you?
No. He loosened his bow tie. Though you were distracted. Especially after meeting Victor Laurent.
My whole body tensed. I wasn't
Don't lie to me, Isla. I saw your face when he approached. You looked terrified.
I didn't answer.
Do you know him? Damien pressed.
No.
Another lie. His voice hardened. I bought your debt. Paid for your father's care. The least you can give me is honesty.
You bought five years of my obedience, I shot back. Not my thoughts. Not my secrets.
The car filled with tense silence.
Interesting, Damien finally said.
What is?
You. Most people in your position would be trying to please me. Manipulate me. Use their situation to gain advantage. He turned to look at me directly. But you fight me at every turn. Why?
Because I refuse to be a victim.
You signed a contract that made you my property. How is that not being a victim?
I made a choice to save my father. That's different than being helpless.
Damien's expression shifted. Something like respect flickered in his eyes.
You're not what I expected, he said quietly.
What did you expect?
Someone broken. Easy to control. His smile was cold. You're going to be more difficult than I thought.
Good.
He almost laughed. Almost.
Back at the penthouse, I headed straight for my room.
Isla, Damien called.
I turned.
Tomorrow we're having dinner with some business associates. Wear the black dress. Be ready by seven.
Another performance?
This is your life now. Every day is a performance. He walked toward his office. Get used to it.
Alone in my bedroom, I finally let myself break down.
I'd stood in the same room as my mother's killer. Smiled and played pretend while he studied my face, searching for recognition.
Sophie knew I was desperate. Could use it against me.
And Damien was watching me too closely, asking too many questions.
My phone buzzed.
I'd turned it on after the gala, unable to resist.
Twenty-three missed calls from Maya. Fifteen texts.
And one new message from an unknown number:
I know who you are, Isla Laurent. We need to talk. Meet me tomorrow at noon, Golden Phoenix Café. Come alone. —A friend who knows the truth about Victor Laurent.
My blood turned to ice.
Someone knew my real identity.
Someone knew about Victor Laurent.
And they wanted to meet.
This could be a trap. A trick. A way to destroy me.
But it could also be my only chance to find answers.
I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the delete button.
Tomorrow at noon. While Damien was at work.
I could sneak out. Break the rules. Risk everything.
Or I could ignore it. Stay safe. Stay obedient.
The choice should have been easy.
But nothing about my life was easy anymore.
I turned off my phone without deleting the message.
Tomorrow, I'd decide.
Tonight, I just needed to survive one more day in this beautiful cage.
One more day of playing pretend.
One more day of being someone I wasn't.
And somewhere in this city, someone knew the truth about who I really was.
The question was: would that truth save me or destroy me?