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?

Maximilian made a point of avoiding Isabel’s gaze, then shot Ruby a warning look before heading to the study. Even when Isabel begged him with her eyes, he acted like she wasn’t there—punishing her for what he thought she’d done: tried to provoke Kayleigh with that spiced honey cake.

Ruby smirked, and David and Lydia laughed with her. Sharp. Cruel. The kind of laugh meant to cut.

“Come join us, little assistant,” Kayleigh called sweetly, crooking a finger at Isabel.

But Isabel stayed rooted to the spot, her legs heavy as lead, buried under memories of the bullying she’d endured at the hands of these three.

“Well, if it isn’t Isabel—the belle of our college,” David mocked.

Kayleigh feigned surprise. “You two were classmates? Then play nice.”

Frozen in place, Isabel had only one thought: run.

“Kayleigh…” Isabel’s voice trembled. “I—I just remembered something urgent at home. I have to go…”

She spun around and tried to flee, but her legs buckled, sending her crashing to the floor.

“Let’s help our dear old classmate,” Ruby offered, already moving toward her.

God, Isabel wanted to run. She wanted it so badly. But her body locked up, paralyzed by the past these three represented.

“Can’t get up?” David sneered, grabbing her by the collar and yanking her to her feet. “The campus queen’s losing her nerve again?”

Isabel ducked her head. Her left ear throbbed with a pain she knew too well, her skin pulled tight as she struggled to break free.

There was no way out.

“Maximilian is marrying my sister. You’ve been sniffing around my brother-in-law. How’re you gonna explain that?” David taunted, slinging an arm around Isabel’s shoulders and steering her outside.

David lived for excuses to torment her. Freshman year, he’d chased her relentlessly. Back then, she hadn’t realized she’d caught the attention of a monster.

Rejecting him in public started the nightmare.

After that, David used her rejection as an excuse to strip her, take humiliating photos, burn her with cigarettes, and let Ruby and Lydia beat her. They locked her in a wooden box. Made her sleep in public restrooms…

If she refused, they threatened to get her kicked out of school—and to go after the kids at the orphanage.

She was the only kid from the orphanage to make it to college—their one beacon of hope. She couldn’t risk losing that.

So she swallowed her pride, no matter how much it hurt.

“Speak up!” Lydia kicked her, impatient. “Why so quiet? Maximilian doesn’t want you. Didn’t you hear? Cross us, and we’ll shut down that precious orphanage of yours!”

Lying in the grass, Isabel brushed dirt off her arms. She was supposed to meet Mr. Alexander tonight in this outfit… She’d wanted to make a good impression. That felt pointless now.

“Can’t speak or hear?” Lydia slapped her across the face.

A housekeeper passed by, saw everything, pretended she didn’t, and kept walking.

Everyone at the estate looked the other way while those three tore her apart.

Isabel didn’t beg. She didn’t plead. She just sat there, stubborn and defiant through every taunt and blow.

Once, David asked what she thought about while they hit her. Isabel never answered.

The truth? She thought about not living. About revenge. If she fought back, it wouldn’t be hard.

But every time, she thought of the orphanage kids. What would happen to them if she was gone?

The director had poured everything into Isabel, her only high achiever. Isabel couldn’t repay that by dying before she gave back.

Maximilian sent her money now and then—never much. He’d given her a supplementary card for personal use.

What did Isabel buy with it? A handbag over four thousand dollars—her most rebellious purchase ever.

While she studied, she worked three part-time jobs a day and sent every cent to the orphanage.

“Ugh, boring,” David complained, leaning against the wall to smoke.

Ruby glanced at him. “Maximilian doesn’t want her anymore, and you always have. Why not take your shot?”

David’s eyes flickered, but he sneered. “Who wants used goods?”

Isabel stood, ignored all three of them, and walked away.

“What the—? Is she asking for it?” Lydia, the hothead of the group, couldn’t stand Isabel’s attitude. Used to being treated like royalty, she lashed out and knocked Isabel into the estate’s decorative pool.

It was November in Newport. The water was freezing.

Isabel surfaced and wiped her face. Tears or pool water—she couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter.

“Had enough?”

Maximilian stepped out as things escalated.

Deep down, Isabel knew Maximilian wouldn’t step in with Kayleigh there. He knew those three would hurt her, but he wanted Kayleigh to feel safe, to erase her doubts.

For the woman he loved, Maximilian chose to sacrifice Isabel.

Kayleigh followed him out and looked at Isabel with practiced surprise. “Little assistant, how did you end up in the water?”

“She fell in by herself…” Lydia said, guilt bleeding through.

Isabel climbed out and met Maximilian’s gaze head-on. He said nothing.

“Sorry. I’ll go home…” Isabel gasped, desperate to get away.

“Isabel…” Maximilian called after her. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he instinctively stepped forward, then stopped himself for Kayleigh’s sake. “I’ll have the driver take you.”

Isabel glanced back at him one last time. A faint smile touched her lips. “No need.”

In that moment, she vowed it would be the last time she looked at Maximilian Riley with anything like love.

Watching her leave, soaked and broken, Maximilian felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. Regret whispered through him—though he didn’t understand why.

…

Riverview Villa.

Isabel couldn’t go home to change.

Lucky for her, Maximilian’s place wasn’t far from Mr. Alexander’s residence. Fifteen minutes later, she arrived.

She’d first met Mr. Alexander at Newport’s most exclusive club. That night, Maximilian was entertaining a businessman from Ireland—Mr. Alexander himself.

She was delivering a coat for Maximilian when she first laid eyes on Mr. Alexander.

His friends said Isabel was exactly his type.

Right in front of Maximilian, Mr. Alexander asked for her number. Maximilian didn’t object.

Maybe Mr. Alexander was an important client.

Later, Mr. Alexander asked her to dinner. She refused. Then he proposed a contract marriage—so terrifying that Isabel blocked him.

But now, Mr. Alexander was her only lifeline.

She wanted to marry. To escape Maximilian Riley and Newport. She needed Mr. Alexander’s influence, needed to grow stronger, to earn enough to support the orphanage kids.