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.

Isabel Jones felt like she was one breath away from breaking. Her voice shook with raw emotion as she faced Maximilian Riley. “You're proposing—and you want me to help your fiancée...? Maximilian, how are you any different from your sister? Why are you so cruel to me?”

Maximilian's expression hardened. “Are you really going to make a scene?” Frustration bled into his voice.

Isabel could barely breathe. The realization crushed her: Maximilian would never give her what she truly wanted. Then he spoke again. “Even if I don't end up marrying Kayleigh, I'll still marry someone else in the end. Maybe a Fitzgerald. Maybe a Lennox. But never you. Do you understand?”

His words cut deep. Isabel let out a bitter laugh. “I never expected you to marry me. I know my place... I knew we'd end eventually.”

“Isabel, be realistic. We're adults. As long as you behave, when this is over, I won't leave you high and dry. You can pick any house in Silver Bay. I'll give you a car, money—whatever you need.” Maximilian rose and closed the distance between them. “Be here first thing tomorrow.”

“Maximilian, I want to get married too,” Isabel said, numb. Her voice was flat, hollow, stripped of hope.

Maximilian paused and glanced back at her. Tears welled in her eyes, uncontrollable. “I'm serious,” she said.

“Get some rest. I'll pretend you're just acting out. When you're really ready to end this—and you want marriage—let me know. I'll find you a promising young man from a modest family—someone on the company staff.” Maximilian said it as if he were granting her a grand favor, then left.

He was confident that, with Isabel's background, she'd never land a decent man. He believed he'd been more than patient with her. Marriage and legitimacy were off the table—but in every other way, he could satisfy her.

Isabel smiled bitterly and sank weakly to the floor. Maximilian had used her for four years. Now that he was tired of her, he planned to marry her off to some low-level employee he could keep under his thumb. He controlled her now, and he expected to control her future marriage, too.

Maximilian's cruelty had no limits.

But it didn't matter. Tonight, Isabel was going to meet Mr. Alexander—someone even Maximilian wouldn't dare cross. Marrying Mr. Alexander would put an end to everything.

...

The next day, at Riverview Villa, unease settled in Isabel's stomach. The lavish mansion was a world away from her small rented apartment—the one Maximilian had provided, less a home than a gilded cage.

“Ah, the assistant has arrived,” Kayleigh Fernandez greeted her, offering a smile that looked almost genuine. Kayleigh wore the role of hostess like she'd been born to it—as if the mansion itself had been waiting for her.

Isabel had once dreamed of marrying Maximilian and becoming the lady of the house. But thoughts like that only reminded her how badly she fit into this world of luxury.

“I brought you a gift,” Isabel said, holding out a box of homemade spiced honey cake—a gesture more sentimental than valuable. It was the same cake she often made for the children at the orphanage.

Kayleigh glanced at the cake, then at Maximilian. “Oh? I think I saw this same cake in Maximilian's car,” she said, her smile sweet but barbed.

Maximilian's expression darkened, his mood shifting on a dime. He assumed Isabel had brought it on purpose—maybe to provoke Kayleigh. But Isabel hadn't known he'd ever kept her cake in his car.

“I made a batch once and left some at the office because Maximilian kept skipping breakfast,” Isabel rushed to explain, her fingers trembling with anxiety. Her depression had begun to manifest physically, worsening over time.

“I see. Maximilian must really like your cake if he took it with him,” Kayleigh remarked, her voice smooth and edged with quiet malice.

Isabel stood there awkwardly and lowered her head, desperate to avoid more misunderstanding. Maximilian would surely think she was trying to stir up trouble.

“Probably tossed them out. My assistant salvaged them for himself and left them in the car,” Maximilian replied dismissively.

Isabel's body went rigid. Trash. To Maximilian, the cake she'd painstakingly made—burning her hands in the process—was trash.

Kayleigh motioned for Isabel to follow, handing her disposable slippers while everyone else wore house slippers. The message was clear: Isabel was only temporary here.

Maximilian noticed the difference but said nothing—silently agreeing that Isabel's presence was only temporary.

“Let me introduce you to my friends,” Kayleigh announced, leading Isabel into the coffee room.

Isabel gave a quick bow. When she lifted her head, it felt like she'd plunged into an icy abyss.

Six people sat in the coffee room. Three of them were her old college classmates—the ones who had tormented her mercilessly.

Among them were Francis Wood, David Fernandez, and Lydia Jones...

Isabel's body locked up. She was trembling all over, unable to stop. She looked at Maximilian helplessly.

Maybe Kayleigh didn't know her history—but Maximilian surely did. He had known Kayleigh would invite these people, and he'd still forced Isabel to come.

Was he trying to push her past her breaking point?