Since the ugly exchange in the closet, Isabela kept her distance from Tom. She moved through the penthouse with the same quiet discipline she brought to her work, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
The morning of Ethan's departure, she supervised every detail of his packing, double-checking the itinerary, ensuring every suit, tie, and accessory was in its place. Once the final bag was loaded into the car, she stepped back as the driver pulled away. She didn't wave, her expression was calm, unreadable but her heart felt the absence immediately.
At Vivienne Couture later that day, her colleagues' attempts to sideline her became obvious. They "forgot" to send her the virtual link for a staff meeting. Rather than brood, Isabela simply walked into the boutique's boardroom mid-discussion. Her calm presence drew eyes immediately. The room stilled, uncomfortable. No one could pretend she was invisible now. She sat down quietly, a slight smile on her lips. But Vivienne was delighted to have her in person for the meeting, she shared details of the fashion show invite they must prepare for.
That evening, back at the penthouse, Tom was waiting. He leaned against the wall as she passed, his tone dripping with disdain.
"Well, the little assistant returns from her busy errands. I hope the day wasn't too exhausting."
Isabela stopped, turned, and met his gaze head-on. Her voice was cool, precise.
"And I hope you found a way to stay occupied besides lazing around and insulting people. This isn't a charity home, Tom, some of us are actually paid to run errands"
The words landed like a strike. For a moment, Tom just stared at her, thrown off balance. Then, with no clever retort, he muttered something under his breath and walked away. From that night, he kept his distance.
Later, when Ethan called, Isabela wasted no time. "Before you hear his version," she said lightly, "I told your brother exactly where to place his insults."
Ethan chuckled, the sound warm even through the phone. "I can only imagine his face. You probably unsettled him more than anyone has in years."
Their conversation stretched long into the night. They talked of trivial things, serious things, and nothing at all, until Isabela realized it was almost morning. When they finally said goodnight, her chest felt strangely light.
In Las Vegas, Ethan sat alone in his five-star suite, her laughter still replaying in his mind. He had closed a major deal earlier that day, but it wasn't victory he felt it was restlessness. He pulled on his jacket and slipped out into the neon-lit night, heading for the quiet bar where a contact from the investigator's file was waiting.
The man arrived late, scanning the room like prey. When he finally sat, he pushed a slim file across the table, his hand trembling. Ethan slid an envelope of cash back in exchange.
"Be careful out there," the man whispered before disappearing into the crowd.
Ethan placed a hand on the file, his pulse steady but fast. It might contain the truth he had been chasing or another door into danger.
Ethan's private thoughts:
I should be celebrating tonight. Deals like this keep the company untouchable. But all I can think about is her voice through the phone, confident, unshaken, even standing up to Tom. He'll try to crush her with words, but she won't bend. God, she's stronger than I gave her credit for. Maybe stronger than me.