The days passed in fragments, each moment slipping through Isla's fingers like sand. She had stepped into this life thinking she was a substitute bride—a pawn—but the layers had peeled away to reveal something far more dangerous.
She was no longer a player in someone else's story.
She was writing her own.
And now, she needed to know everything.
Isla arranged another meeting with Talia, pushing the boundaries she had tiptoed around for weeks.
"I need you to find Evelyn Hart," Isla said the moment she stepped into the investigator's dim office. "Where she is, who's watching her, everything."
Talia's brows lifted slightly. "Damien's sister?"
"You know."
"I know she's a ghost. No paper trail, no digital footprint. But Holt is looking for her. And Holt doesn't let things slip away."
"Can you find her before he does?"
"I can try."
"Try isn't good enough. I need you to find her."
Talia studied her for a moment. "You're not here to run anymore, are you?"
"No. I'm here to win."
A small smile touched Talia's lips. "Good. You're finally playing the game."
That night, Isla returned to the penthouse and found Damien waiting in his study, his sleeves rolled up, tension clinging to him like a second skin.
"I know you've been working to protect her," Isla said as she closed the door behind her. "Evelyn."
Damien didn't deny it.
"Why didn't you tell me she existed?"
"Because the moment I told you, you'd start looking for her. And the moment you started looking, Holt would follow."
"Why is she so important to him?"
"She's not just my sister." His voice was low, measured. "She's the last remaining leverage against my father's estate. If Holt finds her, he can take everything."
"And you?"
"I'd be nothing."
Isla crossed her arms, her pulse steady. "You were never nothing."
He looked at her then, something flickering in his gaze. "You believe that?"
"I believe you've been surviving in a war you didn't start."
His jaw tensed. "Evelyn is my responsibility."
"She's ours now."
Damien's eyes softened, but he didn't speak.
The following day, Talia called with a location.
"She's in a safe house on the edge of the city. Unmarked. Discreet. But someone's already tracking her. Holt's people."
Isla's heart clenched. "We have to move her."
Talia hesitated. "It's a trap, Isla. Holt knows Damien won't leave her unguarded. He's waiting for a reaction."
"Then we'll give him one."
That night, Isla and Damien sat together for the first time in weeks, planning.
"You're willing to walk into Holt's trap?" Damien asked, his voice carefully neutral.
"I'm willing to control it."
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated but impressed. "You've changed."
"No. I've just remembered who I am."
Silence settled between them.
"You know there's no clean ending here," he said quietly.
"There never was."
"You could walk away. I can make it safe for you."
"I'm not walking away."
His gaze lingered on her, something fierce and almost… grateful flickering there.
They moved quickly.
Within hours, Damien's most trusted men were arranged to secure Evelyn's transfer. Isla insisted on being there in person.
"I won't sit in a tower while you clean up the mess," she told Damien firmly.
"And what if something happens to you?"
"Then it happens."
Damien's jaw tensed, but he didn't argue.
The safe house was quieter than Isla expected. A small building on the outskirts, tucked between warehouses. Evelyn was already packed, her wide, nervous eyes a mirror to Isla's.
"You're… Isla," Evelyn whispered, as if the name itself was a fragile thread.
"I am."
"Damien told me about you."
"And you?"
"I don't remember him. Not really. My mother left when I was young. He only found me recently."
"You're not safe here."
"I know."
Evelyn's hands shook as she clutched a small bag. Isla gently took it from her.
"We'll keep you safe."
As they moved toward the waiting cars, headlights flared across the street.
Too late.
Isla's stomach dropped.
A black SUV blocked their exit, men spilling out, weapons drawn.
Holt's men.
Damien's security scrambled to shield them, but Isla pushed Evelyn toward Damien. "Get her out. Now."
"I'm not leaving you."
"You'll protect her. I'll handle this."
"Isla—"
She didn't wait for permission. She stepped forward, her hands raised, heart pounding.
One of Holt's men sneered. "Mrs. Blackstone. We've been looking for you."
"Tell Holt I want to meet him."
"That's not how this works."
"It is now."
His gun didn't lower.
"Tell him," Isla pressed, her voice firm, "that I'll come to him. Alone. But if you touch Damien's sister tonight, I'll burn his empire to the ground."
The man hesitated.
"You really think you can negotiate from here?" he mocked.
"I'm not negotiating. I'm offering."
Her eyes flashed with cold certainty. "I'm the debt. I'm the prize. Holt wants me? He can have me. But on my terms."
The man's smirk faltered.
"Tell him I'll come. Alone. Tomorrow night."
Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked back to Damien, pulling Evelyn behind her.
The men didn't shoot.
Not tonight.
When they were safe, Damien spun Isla to face him, his hands gripping her shoulders.
"Are you insane? You're going to walk into his hands?"
"I'm going to end this."
"By offering yourself?"
"By making him believe I'm still the piece he needs."
"Isla—"
"You taught me something," she cut in, her voice low and steady. "Sometimes power isn't in what you hold. It's in what you're willing to give away."
His hands trembled slightly as he cupped her face. "I can't lose you."
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
"I know I'm not afraid anymore."
Silence stretched between them. His forehead rested against hers.
"If you do this," he whispered, "you're not going alone."
"Yes, I am."
"Isla—"
"It has to be me."
Her fingers curled into the front of his jacket, grounding herself. "If you follow me, if you interfere, I lose all my leverage."
His jaw tightened.
"I'll come back to you," she said softly. "But you have to let me do this."
Damien's eyes closed, pain flickering across his face.
Finally, he nodded.
And when she kissed him, it wasn't for goodbye.
It was for war.