Between Two Brothers

CHAPTERS 8.

ISLA'S POV

The city lights blurred through the rain-streaked window of the cab as I clutched my phone, my fingers still trembling from the silent sobs that had wracked me at my desk earlier. Exhaustion clung to me like a second skin, heavier than the damp wool of my coat. Six years of waiting, of surviving, and here I was—reduced to a pawn in a game I never asked to play. Dare’s question echoed in my head like a curse: Why him, Isla? As if he had any right to ask. As if he hadn’t shattered me first.

My phone buzzed again. It was Julian. I’d ignored the first two calls, but this time, something in me cracked. I answered, pressing the device to my ear.

“Isla?” His voice was warm, laced with that familiar concern that had once felt like an anchor. “Thea told me what happened. You sound wrecked. Where are you?”

“Heading home,” I lied, my voice hoarse. The cab slowed at a red light, and I watched couples laughing under umbrellas on the sidewalk. They had a normal lives. But mine, wasn't even close to it at all.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now. Let me take you to dinner. It's just us. You need to eat, and I… I need to make sure you’re okay. Please, Isla. For old times’ sake.”

I closed my eyes, the memory of his proposal—his steady presence through the worst of the waiting—warping against Dare’s icy threats and Serena’s cruelty. Julian had always been there when Dare wasn’t. “Fine,” I whispered. “But nothing fancy. I’m not dressed for it.”

He chuckled softly, the sound reassuring. “The Glasshouse again? Our table. I’ll handle everything. See you in thirty.”

By the time I arrived, the rain had eased into a misty drizzle. The hostess recognized me and led me to the private alcove where my birthday disaster had unfolded just days ago. Julian stood as I approached, pulling out my chair with a gentle smile. He looked polished as always—charcoal suit, crisp shirt—but his eyes held genuine worry.

“You look beautiful, even after the war zone I’m sure today was,” he said, pouring me a glass of red wine. “Tell me what happened. All of it.”

I sipped the wine, letting its warmth chase away some of the chill. The words spilled out—the impossible schedule, Serena’s sabotage, the overheard conversation branding me as leverage, Dare’s lingering presence that made my skin burn with unwanted memories. Julian listened without interrupting, his hand covering mine across the table.

“He’s using you, Isla. Just like his father uses everyone. But there’s more you don’t know about his time in Spain.” Julian leaned in, his voice dropping. “The family sent him there under the guise of business training, but it was damage control. A mandated ‘scandal’ with a woman tied to one of Victor’s rival syndicates. She was dangerous—beautiful, manipulative, with connections that could’ve sunk Blackthorne deals if not handled. Victor forced Dare into it to neutralize the threat. Public appearances, rumors planted in the tabloids. It kept the wolves at bay, but it broke something in him.”

I stared at him, the wine glass freezing halfway to my lips. “He never wrote back. Not once. If it was family orders—”

Julian’s thumb brushed my knuckles, soothing. “That’s not all. Someone—close to the family—fed him lies. Made him believe you’d moved on with me almost immediately. That the letters you sent through me were… intercepted or twisted. Victor implied you’d betrayed him, using our friendship as proof. He wanted Dare focused, unburdened by some ‘maid’s daughter’ who didn’t fit the legacy. I tried to counter it, Isla. I swear I did. But Victor’s reach is absolute.”

The revelation hit like a fresh wound. Partial truths, maybe, but they explained the venom in Dare’s eyes—the way he looked at me like I’d driven the knife myself. My chest tightened. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I love you,” Julian said simply, his dark eyes intense. “Not as a prize or a weapon against him. I’ve watched you wait for a ghost, and it killed me. But Dare’s back, colder and more dangerous. He’ll destroy you if you let him keep this hold. Come away with me. Let me protect you properly this time.”

His words wrapped around me like a promise, tempting in my exhaustion. But doubt gnawed at the edges. The way he’d pushed the proposal right when Dare returned… the calculated kindness. Still, in that moment, with the weight of the day crushing me, it felt like safety.

Before I could respond, the velvet curtains of the alcove ripped open with violent force.

Dare stood there, rain-dampened hair slicked back, his dark suit clinging to his powerful frame like armor. His eyes—storm-black and furious—locked first on our joined hands, then on my face. Behind him, two suited men hovered like shadows.

“What the hell is this?” Dare’s voice was a low growl, cutting through the soft jazz playing in the background. He stepped inside, the air thickening with his presence. “Having a cozy little reunion while I own your every waking hour, Harlow?”

Julian rose slowly, his chair scraping back. “This is a private dinner, cousin. You have no right barging in here like some jealous thug.”

“Private?” Dare laughed, a harsh, humorless sound that sent chills down my spine. He closed the distance in two strides, towering over the table. His gaze raked over me—disheveled hair, tear-stained cheeks from earlier, the simple dress I’d worn to the office. “She’s my employee, Julian. Mine to command. And you slither in the second her guard drops, spinning your web of half-truths. What lies are you feeding her tonight? More stories about how I abandoned her?”

Julian’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “At least I was here. While you were off playing house with some rival’s w***e in Spain, letting Victor poison your mind against the only good thing you ever had. You think those letters never reached you by accident? Or that Isla jumped into my bed the moment your plane took off?”

Dare’s fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening. The possessive fire in his eyes made my breath catch. “You manipulative bastard. You were the bridge for those letters. How convenient that they vanished while you played the sympathetic friend. And now you’re here, whispering about my ‘scandal’ like you didn’t orchestrate half the rumors yourself to keep me away.” He turned to me, voice dropping to that dangerous velvet. “Is this what you want, Isla? Him? The man who’s been circling you like a vulture for six years, waiting for me to disappear?”

The tension crackled between them, two predators in a too-small space. My heart hammered against my ribs. I stood abruptly, the chair tipping behind me. “Stop it. Both of you.”

But they ignored me, locked in their eternal war.

“You don’t deserve her,” Julian spat, stepping closer to Dare. “You never did. Parading Serena around, blackmailing her with her mother’s livelihood. You’re just like Victor—cold, controlling. She was mine before you crawled back.”

“Yours?” Dare’s laugh was pure venom. He grabbed the edge of the table, leaning in until his face was inches from Julian’s. “She was never yours. She was mine the night I promised her forever in that greenhouse. You think your fake concern hides the jealousy? The way you’ve always wanted what’s mine? Touch her again, and I’ll bury you so deep in scandals that even your name won’t save you.”

Julian shoved Dare’s shoulder, the movement sharp. “Try it. She’s already seeing through you. I told her the truth about Spain—about how Victor made you believe she betrayed you with me. How long before she realizes you’re the one who’s been played?”

The room spun. Their voices overlapped in a storm of accusations, years of resentment boiling over. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

“Enough!” I shouted, my voice breaking through. Both men froze, turning to me. Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I’m not a prize for you two to fight over! I’m not some trophy in your pathetic family rivalry. Dare, you treat me like dirt because you think I betrayed you. Julian, you offer safety with strings attached, always timing your ‘rescues’ perfectly. I’m done. Both of you can burn in your own hell.”