100 DAYS EARLIER
The boardroom of Walton Tower didn't feel like an office; it felt like a mausoleum for the living. High above the smog of Manhattan, the walls were paneled in rare African ebony, and the air smelled faintly of ozone and expensive cologne.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the yellow cabs below crawl like ants. From this height, they looked insignificant. That was how the Waltons viewed the world. People were numbers, cities were markets, and family... family was a liability.
"Isabel, sit down. You're making the air anxious."
I turned. My father, Arthur Walton, sat at the head of the obsidian table. He looked older than he had yesterday. The lines around his eyes were deeper, and the hand resting on his cane trembled ever so slightly. He was the KING OF THE BUSINESS WORLD, but the crown was clearly getting heavy.
Opposite him sat the rot in our bloodline.
My Uncle Silas, he is my father's younger brother. He was leaning back, his silver hair slicked into a sharp blade. Next to him was my cousin, Lucian. Lucian was a few years older than me, dressed in a three-piece suit that cost more than a mid-sized sedan. He was scrolling through his phone with a bored expression, but I could see the way his eyes darted toward my father's chair. He didn't just want the chair; he wanted the throne.
"The lawyers are ready," Silas said, his voice a smooth, oily purr. He gestured to the two men in charcoal suits sitting at the far end of the table. One was my father's long-time counsel; the other was a shark Silas had hired from a firm known for AGGRESSIVE RESTRUCTURING.
I took my seat, my spine hitting the leather backrest like a rod of iron.
"Isabel," my father began, his voice raspy. "You know the tradition. The Walton Empire cannot be led by a ghost. For twenty-four years, I have kept you hidden to protect you from the vultures. But my health is failing, and the board is restless. They want a face. They want a lineage."
"I'm ready to lead, Father," I said firmly. "I've studied every acquisition, every merger. I know the logistics better than Uncle Silas ever will."
Lucian snickered, not looking up from his phone. "Knowing the numbers isn't the same as holding the leash, cousin. You're a girl who's spent her life in a library. This empire is a beast. It'll eat you before the first quarter ends."
"Lucian," my father warned, a flash of the old lion in his eyes. He turned back to me.
"There is a condition, Isabel. One written into the very foundation of our bylaws by your grandfather. To inherit the majority stake, the absolute power of the Walton Empire, you must present a partner. A man to stand by your side. A man from a bloodline that strengthens our own."
"A partner?" I felt a cold knot form in my stomach. "You mean a husband."
"He means a strategic alliance," Silas interrupted, sliding a thick leather folder across the table. It hit the obsidian with a dull thud.
"We've narrowed it down for you. The five families that the board will accept. The Kochs, the Thomsons, the Arnaults, the Ambanis, and the Sons. They are high-ranking, proven and predictable."
I opened the folder. Five faces stared back at me. Five powerful men. Five strangers.
Is this it? I thought, my chest tightening until it hurt to breathe. I'm just a line item on a balance sheet? I looked at the photos with sharp jawlines, cold eyes, and expensive smiles. I didn't see husbands. I saw acquisitions.
"And if I refuse?" I asked, my voice dangerously low.
The shark-lawyer on Silas's side cleared his throat. "Then the 'Succession in Absence' clause is triggered, Miss Walton. The controlling interest would bypass you and fall to the next male heir of the Walton name." He looked pointedly at Lucian.
Lucian finally put his phone down. He leaned forward, a predatory light in his eyes. "It's a simple choice, Isa. The grand selection ceremony will be held in exactly one hundred days. On that day, if you fail to present a partner from one of these five families, the inheritance passes to me. I will move into your office on the morning of Day 101."
I looked at my father, desperate for him to say this was a test or perhaps a joke, a prank or something, anything. But he wouldn't meet my eyes. He was a traditionalist, a man who believed in the old ways, even if the old ways felt like a noose.
So, my life is just a game of chess, I realized, a bitter taste rising in my throat. And I'm the queen being sacrificed to protect the king. It wasn't fair. Was I not even allowed to fall in love? To find a soulmate? I was supposed to just pick a random person, a total stranger and give my life, my body, and my empire to them?
"One hundred days," I whispered, my fingers tracing the edge of the contract.
"Tick-tock, cousin," Lucian mocked. "I suggest you spend this time looking at bridal magazines. Though, with your lack of social experience, I suspect you'll just freeze when the cameras finally find your face."
I felt a sudden, sharp spark of rebellion flare up through my despair. If they were going to play a game with my life, then I wasn't going to sit quietly on the board. If I had to pick one of these men to save my father's legacy, I wouldn't do it blindly. I wouldn't be the prize they thought they were buying. I had to come up with a plan. Maybe an ESCAPE.
With the look of things, Silas must have allied with these men, for him to present them gladly. He wouldn't do anything that would favour me. Would he? I questioned my thoughts.
"I'll sign," I said, picking up the heavy gold fountain pen.
Lucian's grin widened. Silas let out a breath of satisfaction. I pressed the nib to the paper. The ink bled into the fibers, permanent and binding.
'Isabel Walton'.
The moment the final loop was finished, Lucian stood up. He walked around the table, leaning down until his mouth was inches from my ear. The smell of his expensive tobacco made me nauseous.
"You think you're being clever, don't you?" he hissed. "But you're just a mouse trying to negotiate with cats. I've already picked out the furniture for your office, cousin. While you're hiding in this tower for the next three months, terrified of your own shadow, I'll be securing the board's votes."
He straightened up, his eyes cold and mocking.
"You won't last thirty days in the real world, Isa. You'll come crawling back here, begging me to take the burden off your hands."
"We'll see, Lucian," I said, my voice steady even as my pulse hammered.
I watched them leave. The predators and their lawyers, leaving me alone with my father and the weight of a dying empire.
The silence in the room was deafening. I looked down at the folder, at the five men I was supposed to choose from.
Silas and Lucian thought I was going to hide here for a hundred days, weeping into my silk pillows until the ceremony. They thought I was a girl who didn't know the world.
Fine. I would show them how little I knew. And I would show these five "princes" exactly who they were when they weren't trying to impress an heiress.
I stood up and walked toward the door. I didn't have a plan yet, but I had an instinct. A desperate, wild need to run before the cage door locked forever.
"Isabel," my father called out, his voice sounding fragile. "Where are you going?"
I paused at the door, my hand on the cold brass handle. I didn't look back.
"To find Jax," I said. "