Chapter 4 A Step Forward

Isla POV

I parked in the restaurant lot under the darkening sky. I had barely turned off the engine before Vivienne had open the car door and jumped out.

She didn't wait. Didn't even glance back at me.

I watched through the windscreen as she spotted Ronan by the entrance and hugged him with the kind of ease that didn't belong between a man and his fiancée's little sister.

The hug was too long and too comfortable. Her hands at his collar, his arms pulling her in by her waist without hesitation.

I stepped out of the car slowly. Walking towards them.

An elderly couple passed them on the sidewalk , the woman leaning toward her husband in a whisper that carried:

"What a cute couple."

Neither Ronan nor Vivienne corrected it. And I knew they definitely heard it.

I walked toward them.

The hug ended eventually and Ronan turned to me with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You actually came." He said it lightly, like a tease. "I thought you'd still be buried in that important job of yours."

"I won't stay long," I said. "So you don't have to worry."

Something shifted in his expression.

He had been expecting the usual explanation, the apology, the careful management of his feelings about my working hours.

In my first life I had always given him that. Always softened the edges. Always made sure he knew my job was secondary to him.

He had made my career a source of conflicts despite the job paying his bills.

But I suppose he needed someone more manageable. Someone who would shrink to fit.

Don't worry. This time you and Vivienne can be together openly.

Vivienne appeared at my side, taking my hand with a little squeeze, her voice warm and carrying.

"Relax, you're not at work," she laughed softly. "I know today was tough, having been scolded by Lucian Vale in front of everyone like that-"

I removed my hand from hers immediately.

Of course, she said it out loud, in front of Ronan, in front of a restaurant car park and strangers.

Not to comfort me. To make sure he knew. To make sure I walked into that dinner smaller and insecure.

"We should go in," I said. "I don't have all night."

I walked past both of them into the restaurant without looking back.

I felt their eyes on me. My behavior odd to them both.

I should be less obvious about how much I know, I thought, straightening my back as I approached the host stand. I'm giving too much away.

This wasn't the endgame. This was just dinner.

I had time.

--

I sat across from them both, eating quietly while Vivienne led the conversation the way she always did effortlessly, like breathing.

Ronan was leaning toward her. Attentive. Practically hanging on every word.

I felt a pang of jealousy watching it; not just for him, but at her. The way people gravitated toward Vivienne without being asked. The way a room reorganized itself around her presence.

She was confident, warm, magnetic. Her short dark hair framing her face perfectly, her eyes always expressive and alive when she laughed.

I had spent years telling myself I wasn't jealous of my own sister.

Get a hold of yourself, I thought. Start planning.

"Hey." Ronan's voice cut through my thoughts. "Did you hear any what I said?"

I looked up. "Sorry could you repeat that?"

He rolled his eyes. "Such an airhead," he muttered.

I pressed my lips together and said nothing.

Vivienne filled the silence smoothly. "He said you're going wedding dress shopping this weekend. He already booked that expensive boutique on Thorne Street."

"Expensive?" I said.

Ronan flinched slightly.

I remembered this.

He had used my card.

Not his. Mine.

He couldn't stand the thought of a simple wedding but couldn't fund the one he wanted, so he had quietly, casually used my money and never mentioned it and I had found out three weeks later and said nothing because I was that person then.

I needed to move my funds.

"I'm so excited," I said, smiling. "Vivienne you have to come you always have the best sense of style."

Vivienne beamed. "Of course! It's your big day."

"Just make sure you pick something decent, Isla." Ronan's tone shifted with that particular edge he used when he was asserting authority. "Listen to Viv. Don't go picking something outrageous."

"Oh don't worry." I smiled sweetly.

Both of them blinked.

"Vivienne will pick the most beautiful dress for me." I looked at Ronan directly. "I want to look my best for you, darling."

Something moved across his face. The sharpness softened. He leaned forward slightly, tilting his head, a slow smile replacing the edge.

"A little sassy tonight?" He reached across the table, fingers brushing my hand. "Marriage must have you excited."

I resisted the urge to pull away.

I glanced at Vivienne.

Her face was perfectly arranged. Unbothered. But her lips had pressed into a thin line and her hand around her glass had gone white at the knuckles.

Whatever, I thought. You can have him.

"Anyway!" Vivienne cut in brightly, her hand landing on Ronan's arm, subtly pulling his attention back across the table. "Don't you have news to share?"

Ronan blinked. Then straightened. "Right - yeah. I have the opportunity to present at a business gala in a few weeks. Some serious investors and industry names in the room." He was already reaching for his phone, pulling up a document. "I've written out the full business plan. It's solid."

He paused. Glanced at me.

"I'll send it to you, Isla. You know just to look over."

I tilted my head and nodded.

I remember this.

In my first life I had read that plan and known immediately it wasn't going to work.

The strategy was thin. The projections were built on assumptions that wouldn't survive ten minutes of serious questioning. I had said so carefully, diplomatically, choosing every word.

He had put his phone down and looked at me with the specific coldness of a man who had decided to be offended.

You think because you went to a top school you're better than everyone. Know your place, Isla. You're not as special as you think you are.

I had apologized.

And then that night I had stayed up until two in the morning quietly rebuilding his entire pitch from the ground up. Fixing the projections. Strengthening the strategy. Sending it to his inbox without saying a word.

He had walked into that gala with my work in his hands and walked out with investors and never once said my name.

My family had praised his natural intelligence at Sunday dinner.

I had smiled and passed the bread rolls.

I looked at him now across the table, he looks confident, already imagining the gala.

He would send me the plan.

I would read it.

And this time I would say absolutely nothing.

Not a suggestion. Not a gentle concern. Not a single word of the help he was already quietly counting on receiving.

I smiled at him across the table.

"I'd love to take a look," I said.

Ronan tapped his phone and a second later mine buzzed on the table.

I picked it up and opened the document without expression.

I didn't need to read it to know what was inside.

I felt Vivienne's eyes on me as I pretended to scroll through it.

"Shouldn't I see it too?" she asked lightly, leaning toward Ronan with a smile.

Ronan barely glanced at her. "It's a finance thing." He waved his hand dismissively. "You wouldn't need to worry about it."

A beat of silence.

Vivienne's smile stayed perfectly in place but something behind her eyes went very still.

Ronan had already looked away completely unbothered, already watching me and didn't notice her.

But I did.

She recovered in seconds, turning to me with that warm familiar tilt of her head.

"She is good at these things," Vivienne said warmly, almost fondly. "Isla's always been like that very focused, very careful."

"That's not a bad thing at all. But big ideas and bold risks that's a different kind of thinking. Some people are just happier keeping things simple and uncomplicated. Too much uncertainty makes them nervous." She added.

She said it like a compliment.

Only I heard what was underneath it.

You are small. You are plain. You are not the kind of woman who understands vision.

"You're absolutely right," I said pleasantly.

I turned to Ronan.

"This looks really strong. You're a big thinker. Always have been."

Ronan blinked. Sat up slightly. But something behind his eyes stayed uncertain waiting, wanting more than that.

"Did you - did you actually check it properly?" he asked. "You usually have more to say."

There it was.

He needed me. He had always needed me.

And somewhere underneath the ego and the performance he knew it.

I smiled at him.

"It's great, Ronan," I said simply. And set my phone face down on the table.

He stared at me for a moment longer than he should have.

Vivienne filled the silence immediately, laughing, touching his arm, redirecting, but I caught the look she threw me from the corner of her eye.

A cold, quiet calculation.

I looked down at my glass.

I still didn't know how she had done it. The nosebleed. The spreading warmth through my limbs that had nothing to do with the blow Ronan had landed.

Something had already been in my system before any of that happened.

Vivienne had planned it. I was certain of that.

I just didn't know when. Or how.

Yet.