Isabel had just hung up when Kayleigh called softly from the living room.

Isabel turned, nerves prickling. Kayleigh stood there radiating warmth and grace, and somehow it only made Isabel feel smaller—like she couldn’t breathe.

“Isabel, could you help me with something?” Kayleigh’s voice was soft, matching the elegant handwriting on the list she held out. Isabel glanced down. The word condoms hit her like a slap.

“Please, keep this between us,” Kayleigh added in a whisper, followed by a knowing little wink.

Feeling like she might shatter, Isabel nodded too fast and practically fled the room.

Then the memory hit her—her first time with Maximilian, back when she’d just turned nineteen. He’d brought her flowers and a spiced honey cake, little things she’d never gotten as an orphan. That was all it took to sweep her off her feet. She’d been ready to give him everything.

Isabel let out a bitter laugh. God, she’d been so foolish. Such small things had completely blinded her. Girls should be raised with love and plenty, she thought, so they won’t be fooled by a slice of cake and a bouquet.

In four years with Maximilian, Isabel had never bought condoms—he always insisted on other forms of birth control, never caring what it did to her body. But for Kayleigh? He cared. He’d protect her health no matter what.

On the way to the airport, Isabel stayed silent, lost in her thoughts.

“Time’s tight. Pick up the pace,” Maximilian said, noticing something was off with her.

“Sure, Mr. Riley,” Isabel said, flipping her turn signal as the light turned green.

Just as the car ahead cleared the intersection, a boy darted into the road against the light. Isabel swerved on instinct and slammed into the median’s flowerbed.

“Kayleigh!” The second they hit, Maximilian threw himself over Kayleigh, shielding her with his body.

The car hadn’t been going fast, so only the driver’s side took severe damage. The airbag deployed, pinning Isabel down, her left leg painfully trapped under the crushed dashboard.

“Maximilian...” Isabel’s voice shook with terror. “Help me...”

The fear of being trapped, of not being able to move, swallowed her whole.

Suddenly she was back in college—locked inside a cramped wooden box by that bully, Ian’s sister. No one came when she screamed. She’d nearly suffocated, saved only when a janitor found her the next day.

“Maximilian!” Panic climbed as she saw him getting ready to leave. Swallowing her pride, she pleaded anyway, even with Kayleigh standing there. “Don’t leave me...”

“Emergency services will handle it,” Maximilian said flatly, calling for help while he helped Kayleigh out of the car.

“She’s still inside,” Kayleigh noted, a hint of suspicion in her voice at how familiar Isabel sounded with him.

Maximilian brushed it off, pulling Kayleigh close. “The crash wasn’t serious. If we don’t go now, we’ll miss our flight. Help will come for her.”

Kayleigh nodded, casting one meaningful glance at Isabel trapped inside, but said nothing more as she followed Maximilian away.

Isabel thrashed against the seatbelt, pounding on the window, but Maximilian never looked back.

She understood then. He was more afraid of Kayleigh getting the wrong idea than of Isabel losing her life.

Watching them leave, Isabel couldn’t hold it in anymore. She broke into tears. “Maximilian! Please, save me... you promised you wouldn’t abandon me...”

“You liar, Maximilian! You said you’d protect me!”

Despair and panic crashed together inside her, spiraling fast. She lashed out without thinking, making her injuries worse.

“Let me out... let me out!” she screamed, pounding the window, her own cries echoing in her head.

The old trauma swallowed her mind whole, especially when the acrid smell of smoke began seeping into the car.

“The car’s on fire!” someone shouted from the street.

“Is anyone still inside? I thought they left.”

Trapped, Isabel started counting again, just like she had on that terrible night in college.

“1, 2, 3, 4...”

The night Ian’s sister imprisoned her, Isabel had counted to 6,788 before someone found her.

Now, in quiet despair, she wondered what number she’d reach before the end.

Maybe a hard life just makes you resilient. Isabel Jones had survived—somehow, she'd been saved. When she woke, it was already the next morning.

"Fractured right arm, mild concussion, multiple bruises..." The doctor stood at her bedside, watching as Isabel blinked back to consciousness. "Any other pain? Anything else feel off?"

Isabel shook her head and reached for her phone. One glance. Maximilian Riley hadn't even bothered to call. But then—Maximilian, who never posted on social media—had uploaded a photo. A stunning seaside, breathtaking.

Of course, the real focal point was Kayleigh Fernandez in a Victorian-style dress. She was beautiful. More captivating than the view itself.

Isabel curled in on herself, dragged the blanket over her head, and cried.

After four years with Maximilian, what was she to him, really?

Nothing.

...

The moment she was discharged, Isabel went back to her rented apartment, took some ibuprofen, and slept. She was a survivor; her body knew how to endure. She slept the whole day, and when she woke, she finally felt half alive.

After slapping on a few pain-relief patches, she headed to work. She still had intern pay to collect, after all.

"Did you see Maximilian's post? Wow. He never posts, and he did it just for Miss Fernandez."

"Maximilian is, like, the definition of a gentleman. All these years, he's kept it clean—waiting for Miss Fernandez."

As Isabel stepped into the office, she caught her coworkers gossiping.

She laughed under her breath and took her seat. Sure, Maximilian loved Kayleigh. That part was real. But him being some saint who kept his hands to himself? Yeah, right.

It was almost funny. Maybe all men were the same—love in one box, sex in another. He loved Kayleigh in his heart, but that hadn't stopped him from sleeping with Isabel.

"Miss, this is our work area. Mr. Riley said you shouldn't—"

A commotion broke out by the elevator.

Isabel glanced over, and her blood ran cold.

Francis Wood had arrived.

"Move." Ruby's command cut through the room. She was all high-end suit and high heels, and she was heading straight for Isabel.

Isabel lowered her head, shoulders hunching on instinct. The shadows of freshman-year bullying were still buried deep in her bones.

"Isabel, my brother is coming home today. He and Miss Fernandez are getting married." Ruby whispered it in her ear, every word dripping with malice.

She laughed, soft and cruel. "Four years ago, I told you. The day my brother throws you away will be your last."

Isabel went rigid.

Four years, and Ruby still wouldn't let her breathe.

Then came the slap. Sharp. Loud. Right in front of every employee.

Isabel didn't hit back. Didn't make a sound.

She could admit it: she was too scared to provoke Ruby. God knew how many times she'd imagined fighting back. But as long as she wanted to live, she couldn't.

If she ever truly hit her breaking point, she'd take Ruby down with her. For now, she was a coward. A coward who wanted to survive...

"Remember that slap? My brother hit me because of you back then—sent me overseas! He'd never raised a hand to me before. All for you!" Ruby laughed, fury twisting her face, and poured the coffee from the desk over Isabel's head.

"Isabel, you think sleeping with my brother means you've won? What are you next to him? Nothing but an orphan. You think he'd marry you?"

Ruby shoved Isabel's head again, her voice full of disdain. "Leave Riley Corporation. Or I'll expose your past in the company group chat."

Isabel stayed silent, head bowed.

The dirt Ruby was talking about? Stripping her naked freshman year and taking photos. Or maybe sleeping with her brother.

No one in the office dared stand up for Isabel. Ruby was the heiress of the conglomerate.

"Isabel... what did you do to piss off the Riley family's heiress?" a colleague finally whispered after Ruby left.

Isabel smiled and wiped her face with a tissue. "We were college classmates. Just... old issues..."

...

In the restroom, Isabel hid in a corner, fixing her clothes.

She didn't cry.

As a freshman, she'd been naive enough to cry about how unfair the world was.

Was being an orphan her fault?

Did having no connections and no one in her corner mean she deserved to be bullied?

Now she understood. Being an orphan was the original sin. Having no connections, no support—that was the crime. People who bullied you never needed a reason.

Ding!

Her phone chimed. Maximilian had transferred fifty thousand dollars to her via WhatsApp.

Of course. The office had been a whole scene today. Maximilian had to know Ruby came to confront her.

A slap for fifty thousand dollars.

Quite the transaction.

"I called Ruby and told her off. Buy whatever you want."

Maximilian followed it with a voice message.

Always the same—buy whatever you want.

"Thank you, Mr. Riley."

Isabel accepted the money like it was her earnings. She needed to keep it.

She stared at the chat, not sure what she was hoping for. Maybe that Maximilian would show some concern—at least ask if she'd been hurt in the car accident that day. But he didn't ask anything.

She closed her phone and went to HR to submit her resignation. Since she was still an intern, the process wasn't a hassle.

Tomorrow was the thirteenth. That evening, she'd go to Riverview Villa to meet Mr. Alexander.

As long as she seized this chance, she could get out of the Newport for good.

Escape Maximilian Riley.

Isabel Jones transferred the money into her account and walked out of the office, heading for the mall down the street. Fifty grand was serious money to Isabel. To Maximilian Riley, it was pocket change.

With fresh resolve, Isabel stepped into a luxury boutique. “I’d like to see that handbag,” she said, pointing at one on display.

The sales associate gave her a quick once-over. “That bag is four thousand nine hundred dollars.”

Isabel smiled, relieved she had just enough. “I’ll take it. Please wrap it up,” she said, sinking into a chair. Her legs still ached with exhaustion.

The associate’s attitude flipped in an instant. Suddenly friendly, suddenly efficient, she went to retrieve the bag.

In a store like this, a handbag over four thousand dollars was entry-level. Nothing special. But to Isabel, it was a shard of her dignity.

She held the bag and felt its weight—heavy with meaning. Instead of making her feel confident, it only made her feel smaller.

Before she left the counter, Isabel noticed another handbag displayed on its own. “How much is that one?” she asked.

She remembered seeing Kayleigh Fernandez carrying one just like it—elegant, poised, radiating a confidence that came to her as naturally as breathing.

“That bag is a limited edition. It’s display only. To buy it, you’d need three million in loyalty points or nearly a million dollars in accompanying purchases,” the associate explained with a polite smile.

Isabel stood frozen. Stunned.

Three million...

Three million dollars was an abstract number to Isabel. A sum Maximilian could drop on a whim for Kayleigh. To an orphanage, it could save countless lives.

Human life was priceless—and so easily overlooked.

And Isabel? She’d been born into a world where her value barely registered.

The gap between her and Kayleigh wasn’t just about the price of handbags. It was family. Upbringing. A lifetime of experiences she could never buy her way into.

Maximilian would never toss Kayleigh a pity offering of a few thousand dollars. He knew her worth was far beyond that.

Isabel was painfully aware of what she was: a frog dreaming of becoming a swan, foolish enough to imagine she could hold a place in Maximilian’s heart.

Ridiculous beyond measure.

...

Back at her apartment, Isabel listed the handbag on a resale site right away. She’d take a loss, but it would sell fast.

Once the money came in, she planned to send it straight to the orphanage director’s account.

The kids needed warm clothes for winter. Four thousand dollars would go a long way.

After a hot shower, Isabel stood in front of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear to her meeting with Mr. Alexander tomorrow.

The door swung open without warning. Maximilian walked in like he owned the place.

Startled, Isabel instinctively clutched the towel to herself. “Mr. Riley...”

“You resigned?” Maximilian asked, brow furrowing. He was holding a plastic bag of random fruit he’d grabbed from a store nearby.

He never showed up empty-handed, but his gifts—spiced honey cakes, fruit, simple bouquets—were always modest. Cheap, even.

“Yes,” Isabel nodded. She reminded herself that Maximilian paid the rent. Of course he came and went as he pleased.

“Don’t worry about Ruby. I’m here,” Maximilian said. He sat on the bed and pinched her cheek lightly, tugging her closer, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “Does it still hurt?”

Isabel dropped her gaze and shook her head. Not a word.

“I talked to HR. Just take a few days. Come back whenever you’re ready.” Maximilian was offering her a special privilege.

To Isabel, it felt like charity.

Ever since Maximilian found out what his sister had done, he’d been doling out pity from a pedestal.

“You’re getting married... aren’t you?” Isabel asked, dragging in a breath for courage.

Maximilian said nothing.

Isabel forced a smile, though her eyes burned. “I won’t come back to the company. I’ll move out soon. Let’s just end this. I wish you and Miss Fernandez a lifetime of happiness.”

She wasn’t without principles. She had lines. At the very least, she refused to be the other woman.

Maximilian’s frown deepened, irritation flickering across his face. “Are you throwing a tantrum?”

Isabel let out a hollow laugh. “No...”

He pulled her into his arms and tried to soothe her. “Stay here. Be comfortable. We’ll talk more when the wedding gets closer.”

His words held a casual cruelty, as if he had no idea how much they cut.

Maybe, Isabel thought, he never saw her as someone worth considering at all.

“That car accident really scared Kayleigh. She feels guilty she wasn’t there to take care of you,” Maximilian said, his fingers finding her waist out of habit. He’d always admired her figure—one he’d carefully cultivated since she was a teenager.

At nineteen, Isabel had been malnourished, slower to develop than other girls her age. Maximilian had pulled her out of that bare-bones life, made sure she ate three meals a day, smoothed the sharp edges off her struggle.

“Tomorrow night, we’re hosting a dinner at home for a few friends. I’m going to propose to Kayleigh there. It’d be great if you came early to help set up,” Maximilian went on. The words spilled out of him while his hands wandered, his breath warm against her neck.

To Isabel, Maximilian seemed truly heartless.

Deep down, he was cut from the same cloth as his sister.

Hadn’t he gotten his fill of Kayleigh in the Caribbean?

“I won’t be there...” Isabel refused quietly. She pushed him away and grabbed the towel again as nausea crept up her throat.

Tomorrow night, she had a meeting with Mr. Alexander.

“If you don’t come, she’ll get the wrong idea,” Maximilian argued, irritated by her resistance. “She’s divorced. She’s sensitive. I don’t want her suspecting anything about us.”

Isabel didn’t answer. She just turned away, her silence saying more than words ever could.