"Mr. Higgins, my personal life is not up for discussion. You're overstepping."

Isabella was caught off guard by Isaac's question. She paused briefly before a trace of irritation surfaced across her face, her tone turning frosty.

She saw no reason why someone outside her marriage should pry into what existed between her and Ryan.

Isaac remained perfectly composed. Settling farther into his chair, he looked completely relaxed.

"I usually have no interest in other people's relationships. However, after what happened between us yesterday... if you reconcile with your husband, does that not leave me cast as the man you cheated with?"

The irritation vanished from Isabella's face, replaced by a weary frown as her confidence faltered.

She had been hoping Isaac would simply forget about everything that had taken place the previous day. Instead, the topic had somehow found its way back.

Although she had been intoxicated, she clearly remembered that she had been the one who initiated everything between them.

Keeping her lips pressed together, she remained silent for quite some time before finally speaking. "What happened last night was a mistake made in the heat of the moment. Could we both act as though it never occurred?"

Isaac chuckled softly. Isabella stared at him, unable to understand what amused him.

"Is this why you left me two hundred dollars this morning as payment? You wanted me to pretend nothing had happened last night?"

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the two wrinkled bills, and pushed them toward her across the table.

A playful smile tugged at his lips. "Exchanging money for something like that is against the law. I cannot accept your payment."

Isabella had no reply to that.

Unable to withstand the unwavering look in his eyes, she eventually admitted what she truly felt. "Mr. Higgins, you don't have to concern yourself with that. Even if the person who betrayed me begged for another chance, I would never take him back."

Isaac gave a small nod, the sternness in his face easing at last. "Then you have my full support, Ms. Dawson."

Isabella acknowledged him with a nod, although she had no desire to involve him any further. "Just keep Sylvia under control. And don't let my husband benefit from your influence. I'll deal with everything else myself."

A quiet laugh escaped Isaac. "Would it really upset you if he became successful after the divorce?"

"Absolutely," Isabella answered without the slightest hesitation, stressing every syllable with complete sincerity.

Straightening in her seat, she spoke in an even colder voice. "Honestly, I cannot understand what Sylvia finds appealing about my husband. Compared with you, the profits from his company probably wouldn't even equal the allowance you hand her in a single year."

As far as Isabella was concerned, even if Isaac's generosity toward Sylvia stemmed from gratitude for her late parent, it was obvious he treasured her deeply. Otherwise, he would never have tolerated behavior as outrageous as hers.

Lost in her own thoughts, Isabella completely missed the flash of astonishment that crossed Isaac's face.

He chose not to address it. Instead, he asked, "When do you intend to divorce your husband?"

A faint crease formed between Isabella's brows. She refused to expose the ugliness inside her marriage, so she responded flatly, "That is not your business."

Recognizing that she had drawn a boundary, Isaac let the matter drop. Instead, he gently offered a reminder. "Have you thought about what you'll do if your husband refuses to agree to the divorce?"

A shadow settled over her features. "What exactly are you implying?"

Lifting his gaze, he met her eyes from across the table. His stare concealed something impossible to read, carrying an unsettling edge.

Supporting his chin with one hand, he spoke in a rich, low voice that carried an almost dangerous allure. "Ms. Dawson, you need to take responsibility for everything that happened between us last night. How about this? I'll settle for being your boyfriend. But you'll have to keep our affair a secret for now."

Those words completely changed Isabella's expression. She sprang to her feet, staring at him in utter disbelief.

After everything he had said, that was the conclusion she had never expected.

Her cheeks burning with humiliation and anger, she shot back, "I'm not that sort of woman!"

"Just kidding. If you ever need assistance, I can introduce you to an excellent divorce attorney." After a brief pause, he acted as though he just remembered something. "I nearly forgot—you studied law, didn't you? Perhaps you won't need one."

The color drained slightly from Isabella's face. "How did you know..."

Her voice cut off abruptly. It finally struck her that she had never once introduced herself after entering the suite, yet he had addressed her as Ms. Dawson from the very beginning as though they were already acquainted.

How had he learned so much about her?

"Perhaps our paths crossed long ago," Isaac said with another faint smile.

Isabella looked at the subtle curve of his lips. An inexplicable shiver crept through her body, leaving her with the urge to put as much distance between them as possible.

"I think we've talked enough today," she said. "If I need anything, I'll reach out."

Privately, she prayed that day would never come.

With those words, she hurried out of the presidential suite, overwhelmed by embarrassment.

The man left her deeply unsettled. Somehow, he had uncovered everything he wanted to know while revealing almost nothing about himself.

For the first time, she questioned whether mentioning Sylvia to him had been a reckless decision.

...

After departing the hotel, Isabella returned to the apartment she and Ryan called home.

She entered the security code, unlocked the door, and walked inside. Empty bottles and clutter littered the living room, while the air was thick with the heavy scent of liquor.

The divorce agreement she had placed on the table the previous day remained exactly where she had left it. Hiding the emotions in her eyes, she walked over to retrieve it.

As soon as she picked it up, she noticed Ryan's signature line was still empty.

While she stood there in thought, footsteps sounded behind her. She turned around.

Ryan stood in the bedroom doorway. He was visibly drunk, with dark shadows beneath his eyes and hair that looked as though he had not bothered to comb it.

Even in such a worn state, his striking appearance remained undeniable. There was still a careless, self-destructive charm about him.

She realized that had probably been what first attracted her to him.

Suppressing the ache inside her heart, she asked coolly, "Why haven't you signed the divorce agreement?"

Ryan crossed the room until he stood before her. He reached for her hand, but she withdrew before he could touch it.

"Bella, does it really have to end like this?" His voice trembled with heartache, while tears shimmered in his eyes, making him appear heartbreakingly vulnerable.

For a brief moment, her expression softened, yet she remained silent with her lips tightly closed.

Ryan carefully caught the edge of her sleeve and gave it a gentle tug, pleading softly, "Sweetheart, I know I messed up. Remember how you always wanted to see the northern lights? Once this project is finished, I'll take time off, and we'll go together. All right?"

His behavior reminded her of their days as boyfriend and girlfriend. Whenever she became upset, Ryan would lower his pride, act adorably, and coax her until she smiled. Only after she forgave him would he finally relax.

This time, however, nothing was the same.

When she offered no response, Ryan asked tentatively, "You didn't come home last night. I couldn't stop worrying. Where were you, Bella?"

Although his concern stirred something inside her, the question pulled her back to reality. A cold smile appeared on her face.

Since their marriage, Ryan had steadily tightened his grip over every part of her life. Eventually, he even tried to stop her from working, treating their home like a cage she was never meant to leave.

She had once mistaken that behavior for insecurity and constantly yielded to him because of it. Only now did she recognize it for what it truly was: control.

She understood that no amount of apologizing or lowering himself could erase the person he really was.

Taking another step away from him, she widened the gap between them. "The tracking application is still installed on my phone, isn't it? Shouldn't you already know exactly where I spent last night?"

Ryan's expression stiffened the instant those words left her mouth.