Chapter 3 Three

ISABELLA 'S POV

The sunlight was warm when I woke up; it shone softly through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. The air still smelled intoxicating and musky. Memories of last night washed over me. The way he had touched me in places I had never imagined I could be touched softly with a gene hold like I was fragile.

His mouth had ravaged my body from my neck down to my stomach like one who had been hungry and just been given food; his soft kisses placed on my forehead as we slept through the night had been the most love I had ever received from someone. Last night, he completed me, and I did him like the perfect piece I had been waiting for.

I turned over, expecting to collide with his body, but he was gone, nowhere to be found. No glimpse or reminder of him. No name, no note, no number, just his intoxicating smell.

A lump formed In my throat as my chest thudded, perhaps it was best he left. No need for an awkward morning reaction. I tried to make out his face as I pulled the sheets from my body and another wave of the reminder of his hands caressing my body.

I couldn't make out his face. Every attempt to remember shot a wave of headache through my head. I signed, giving up on trying to remember his face; I might never meet him again, given the circumstances; I just had to let go. I put on the clothes that had been peeled off one by one carefully by him the night before. I shivered at the thought of his hands grazing my shoulders.

Leaving the hotel behind, I arrived at my father's mansion an hour later, exhaustion settling in as I pulled into the parking lot.

I walked the pathway propped with well-defined flowers, the fragrance trailed behind me, lingering in my nostrils. My father's mansion stood tall in the rich neighborhood like everyone's, but the neoclassical style adorned with Corinthian columns and a marble staircase made it stand out.

I thought about my plans for revenge and realized I had none. I had gone to the bar to ruminate over it but ended up being distracted. A year, I thought, and my heart thudded hard against my rib cage.

The morning sun gave the mansion a warm glow and nostalgic effect. The air was thick with silence and an aged, long aristocracy as I made my way to my room at the end of the mansion quietly. My stepmother had requested my father to move my room to the end of the house to avoid crossing paths "an unwanted chaos", as she had called it.

Giggles interrupted the deafening silence as I got closer to my room; a familiar laugh echoed through the walls, and I wondered what mischief Camilla and her mother were up to once again.

We are a year apart and nothing alike. I, the oldest, have always been the good child getting good grades who carved their father's attention, whilst Camilla would always do whatever she wanted and get scot-free with it.

Finally, in my room, I lay on the bed staring blankly at my beige walls, the weight of the day pressing against my shoulders and chest. The thoughts of revenge keep me from drowning in my despair.

I still have to work today. I remembered that I had been my father's assistant ever since graduating from university. I did not know why he made me his assistant, probably a way Tina whispered in his ears to punish me. Camilla does nothing but go on shopping sprees funded by the life my father and I have to live.

Surprisingly, I love being my father's assistant; something about it made me feel closer to him rather than the blank face and void defiance he always puts on at home.

It was an opportunity to learn first-hand what was going on behind the scenes in the company.

On days like this, I dreaded going to work. I lazily pulled myself out of bed and into the bathroom for a quick shower before my father's message popped up on my phone. Soon enough, I was ready to leave.

My father's study held a deafening silence that I always found solace in. I flipped through the stack of files on his table when a name caught my eye.

"Shaun Whitmore."

I froze. The file wasn't about him alone, it was about an arranged marriage. With Camilla. My breath hitched, so this was her latest prize. That explained her laughter this morning.

I could hear my heart beating loudly in my eardrums. I curled my face in disgust. Why must she always have everything?l

This time around, I would snatch it right from her hands. I don't know how, but I definitely will.

I closed the file as the door creaked.

"Isabelle, what are you still doing here?" I shuddered, my father's deep voice bringing me back to reality.

I hesitated for a millisecond. "I was just organizing the files we would need today", I lied smoothly.

He eyed me briefly, as if hesitant to believe me. "The meeting has been canceled; you can go," he dismissed.

My heart leaped for joy as I dragged my feet to the door. I turned on my heels, changing my mind about leaving. I might as well try my luck with him. "Is there anything else?" he asked, noticing my lingering stance.

"Actually, yes."

"Go on."

I stood in front of his mahogany desk, my heart racing as he didn't spare me a glance. His gaze fixated on the file he was holding.

"I Want to marry Shaun Whitmore."

He lifted his gaze, narrowing his eyes at me. "Excuse me?"

"You're planning to marry him to Camilla, but she's not fit for this. You and I both know she lacks the discipline, the intelligence, and the patience to handle a man like Shaun or secure the business alliance you want."

His pen stills, leaning back on his reclining chair. "And you think you can."

"Yes."

"Isabella, I do not have time for that childish behavior; this is strictly business; and why, exactly, do you want this marriage?"

I hesitated; I wanted to tell him the truth; I wanted to let him know I only had a year to live; maybe that brought out the little compassion he had for me. I wanted to tell him I would make him, his wife and daughter pay for what they had made me suffer. Instead, the lie slithered freely in my mouth. "Because I can make this alliance work. "I understand business, I know how to handle power, and I won't let my emotions ruin everything the way Camilla would."

He exhaled slowly. "Convince Shaun's grandfather. If he chooses you over Camilla, the engagement is yours."

My stomach clenched. "And if I fail?"

"Then you'll watch Camilla walk down the aisle with him."