Chapter 3 A new beginning at stratCore ventures

Isabella's POV

When I woke up the next morning, the other side of the bed was empty.

He was gone.

No note. No number. No name.

Just the lingering scent of whiskey and cologne on the sheets. For a moment, I lay there in silence, trying to convince myself it was just a dream. But the soreness in my body and the ache in my chest reminded me that it was very, very real.

I didn't know whether to feel ashamed or relieved. He was a stranger, but he had been a soft place to land in the middle of my storm. And now, just like Kelvin, he had disappeared-only this time, I expected it.

By late afternoon, I couldn't take it anymore. The silence. The thoughts. The damn hotel room sheets that still smelled like him. I grabbed my purse, slipped on a hoodie over yesterday's dress, and called Jennifer.

"I need to see you," I said.

She didn't ask questions. Just told me to come over.

By the time I got there, Anita and Elizabeth were already at her apartment too-cups of tea in hand, and concern written all over their faces. Jennifer opened the door and pulled me into the kind of hug that doesn't ask anything, doesn't demand words-just holds you together when you feel like falling apart.

We settled into her cozy living room-sunlight spilling across the rug, the faint smell of vanilla candles in the air, and a kind of sacred silence that only exists between women who've seen each other through enough heartbreaks to stop pretending.

I sat down slowly, ran a hand through my tangled hair, and then... I broke.

"Okay, so," I started, voice hoarse. "Last night... I went to a bar."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Alone?"

I nodded. "Alone. I couldn't sit in your house, Jen. Not after everything. I needed to get out. To forget."

Anita leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly. "Did something happen?"

I laughed bitterly. "Something? Yeah. I met someone. A man. Older. Way older-like, salt-and-pepper beard, expensive suit, probably owns half the city."

Jennifer blinked. "Wait, how old are we talking? Like... 'dad' old or just 'silver fox'?"

I shrugged. "Forty-five? Maybe older. He had this... presence. Not flashy. Not pushy. Just powerful. Like he's walked through fire and come out the other side. But his eyes..." My voice softened. "He looked broken. Like me."

The girls exchanged glances but stayed quiet.

"We talked. We drank. We danced. And then..." I hesitated. "We slept together."

Anita exhaled. "Wow."

"I didn't even ask his name," I confessed, eyes on the floor. "Didn't want to. I just... needed someone. Not love. Not a promise. Just someone to see me. To want me."

They didn't judge. Not with words, not with looks. They just waited.

"And this morning, he was gone," I said. "No number. No name. No goodbye. Just vanished."

Elizabeth tilted her head. "Did you expect him to stay?"

"No. But I didn't expect this to hurt either." I felt my throat tighten. "God, I hate him. I don't even know him and I hate him for leaving. For making me feel like I was disposable again."

Jennifer reached for my hand. "You're not disposable, Isa."

"Then why does it feel like I am?" I said. "Kelvin lied to me for months and walked away like I was nothing. And this stranger... he touched me like I mattered and then disappeared like I didn't."

Anita set her tea down. "Sometimes, when we're at our lowest, we crave something raw and immediate. It doesn't make you weak. It makes you human."

"But I thought maybe..." I trailed off, embarrassed by the confession bubbling up. "I thought maybe he'd leave a note. Or... or stay until I woke up. Say something. Hell, I would've settled for a damn post-it."

They all laughed gently, and that broke some of the heaviness sitting on my chest.

Elizabeth leaned over. "You were vulnerable. That's not a crime. And maybe he was too scared to face you in the morning. Maybe he's married. Maybe he's broken. Whatever it is-it's not a reflection of your worth."

"I just..." I swallowed hard. "I felt wanted for the first time in months. And now I feel stupid for letting that mean so much."

Jennifer squeezed my hand tighter. "It's okay to want more. It's okay to feel pain, even if it came from a stranger. You gave him a part of yourself-and that matters, even if he didn't say it."

"I don't know if I miss him, or the version of myself I got to be for a few hours," I admitted. "Confident. Sexy. Alive. Not the heartbroken girl crying into her pillow every night."

"Well," Anita said, "you were never just the heartbroken girl. You've always been that confident, sexy, alive woman. She just got a little buried under the bullshit."

"And now?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Now," Elizabeth said firmly, "we help you dig her back out."

---

That night, the girls stayed with me. We ordered Thai food, watched terrible rom-coms, painted our nails, and laughed louder than we had in weeks. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel alone. I felt seen.

The stranger might have vanished, but the ache he left behind... was slowly, steadily being replaced by something softer.Not love.But it was healing.And I was finally ready to stop chasing ghosts and start finding myself again.

---

It was supposed to be just another weekend brunch-bottomless mimosas, a few laughs, maybe a little bit of gossip. I hadn't seen Kelvin in weeks, not since the breakup, and I intended to keep it that way. The last thing I needed was another reminder of the man who had lied to me, manipulated me, and left me doubting everything I thought I knew about love.

But fate, apparently, had a sense of humor.

I was walking out of the café with a to-go cup in one hand, sunglasses on, trying to feel normal again, when I saw him-Rodwell.

He was standing by a black Mercedes parked across the street, talking to someone I couldn't fully see behind the tinted passenger window. He looked exactly like I remembered: tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of elegance that didn't try too hard, the salt-and-pepper beard that had grazed my collarbone. My heart jumped before my brain could stop it.

I froze.

And then the car door opened.

And out stepped Kelvin.

My stomach dropped so violently I thought I might throw up right there on the sidewalk.

Kelvin laughed at something Rodwell said, then slapped his shoulder the way sons do with their fathers.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn't be real.

I backed into a brick wall, hand gripping the cup so tight the lid popped off. My breath came in short, staccato bursts. My mind was screaming, but all I could hear was the echo of Rodwell's voice in the dark hotel room... and the sound of my heart cracking all over again.

Rodwell wasn't just some random stranger.

He was Kelvin's father.

I didn't even remember how I got back to Jennifer's apartment. The walk was a blur. The city was a blur. The tears didn't come until I shut the door behind me and collapsed onto her couch, shaking and breathless like someone who had just escaped a fire.

She found me there ten minutes later, a crumpled mess of panic and disbelief.

"Isabella?" she said, kneeling beside me. "What happened? Are you okay?"

I looked at her, eyes wide and wet, and finally choked out the words:

"It was him, Jen. The man from the bar. From the hotel. The one I slept with."

She blinked. "Rodwell?"

I nodded, voice trembling.

"He's Kelvin's father."

---

An hour later, Anita and Elizabeth were there too. I sat curled up on Jennifer's couch, legs tucked beneath me, a cup of tea shaking in my hand.

"This is some twisted, Greek tragedy bullshit," Anita said quietly.

Elizabeth muttered, "You couldn't make this up if you tried."

"I feel sick," I whispered. "Like I've been dragged into some cruel joke. I didn't know, I swear I didn't. He never told me his name. We didn't exchange anything. Just pain and heat and... and now this."

Jennifer sat beside me, brushing my hair back like a mother would. "You didn't do anything wrong. You couldn't have known."

"But how do I even process this?" I asked, voice rising. "I slept with the father of the man who cheated on me. The man who broke me. And now... now I've somehow broken myself even more."

Anita crossed her arms, eyes sharp. "Let's get one thing straight: this isn't your shame to carry. Rodwell's a grown-ass man. He knew who Kelvin was. He had every opportunity to say something."

I flinched. "What if he didn't know either?"

Jennifer shook her head. "That doesn't change the facts. It happened. And yes, it's messy, and painful, and it's a hell of a shock-but Isa, this wasn't malicious. This wasn't planned. This was two broken people crashing into each other in the dark."

"I just feel... used. Again." My voice cracked. "By both of them, in different ways."

Elizabeth leaned forward. "You're not used. You're wounded. And there's a difference. One heals."

I closed my eyes and exhaled, slow and shaky. "What if they find out?"

Jennifer bit her lip. "Do you want them to?"

"No," I said quickly. "God, no. But I don't know how to move past this without it haunting me."

"Then we work through it," Anita said. "One piece at a time."

"And if Rodwell did know who you were," Elizabeth added, "then screw him. That's not a mistake-that's manipulation."

Jennifer touched my knee gently. "But if he didn't know... if this was just two people trying to forget the people who broke them... then maybe, in the most twisted way, you found someone who understood your pain. Even if only for a night."

Tears welled in my eyes again, and this time I didn't try to stop them.

"I hate that part of me still thinks about him," I whispered. "That I still feel something when I think of his hands on me. It makes me feel dirty."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Don't confuse vulnerability with filth. That night wasn't dirty, Isa-it was human. Messy and complicated, yes. But not shameful."

I leaned into Jennifer's shoulder, finally letting the tears fall. "How do I let it go?"

"You don't. Not all at once," she said softly. "But you let us hold it with you until it doesn't weigh you down so much."

---

That night, I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, haunted by the echo of Rodwell's voice, by the heat of his touch, by the twist of betrayal that now had two faces instead of one.

Kelvin.

Rodwell.

The son who lied.

The father who vanished.

And me... somewhere in the middle, trying to make sense of a pain that didn't fit neatly into words.

But one thing was clear: I couldn't go back to who I was before. That girl-the one who needed someone to want her just to feel whole-she didn't survive that night.

I would have to become someone new.Someone stronger.

I picked up the pieces of my life slowly. Day by day. Jennifer encouraged me to apply for jobs. She said I needed structure, something to pour my energy into. Something that was mine.

And that's how I found StratCore Ventures.

An online commerce company-modern, fast-paced, built for people who wanted everything delivered to their doorstep. Books. Electronics. Lifestyle gadgets. You name it, they shipped it. I loved the sound of that: things arriving when and where they were needed. It was the opposite of my love life.

I applied without overthinking. I was tired of standing still.

A week later, I got a callback. A woman named Sharon interviewed me-kind, straightforward, no-nonsense. She liked my communication skills, and the next thing I knew, I was hired as part of the customer fulfillment support team.

For the first time in weeks, I felt a spark of excitement again.

It was my second day on the job when it happened.

I was walking down the hallway with a folder in hand, trying to remember where the supply closet was, when I glanced toward the glass-paneled meeting room.

And there he was.Rodwell the stranger at the club,Dressed in a tailored navy-blue suit, his hair slicked back, that same commanding presence-but now, it was sharper. Sober. In control.

He was standing at the head of the conference table, speaking confidently to a group of executives. He looked nothing like the broken man I'd seduced on the dance floor. Yet... it was undeniably him.

My heart slammed against my chest. For a second, I couldn't breathe. The folder nearly slipped from my hands.What is he doing here?.As if the universe had more irony in store for me, I noticed the title under his name on the digital directory posted by the wall.

Blake Rodwell

General Manager, StratCore Ventures

I backed away slowly, my mind spinning. He didn't see me. Or maybe he did-but if he recognized me, he didn't show it. He was completely composed, professional, all business.But me?Inside, I was chaos.Suddenly, all the emotions from that night came flooding back-grief, shame, heat, confusion. But there was something else too.

Something different.This wasn't just the stranger from the club anymore. This was a man I might have to work with-or under. And now, I couldn't just forget him. I couldn't run from what happened.Because he wasn't gone.He was here.And I didn't know whether that terrified me... or thrilled me.