Between Two Brothers

CHAPTER 12.

ISLA'S POV

After the intense tension, my phone buzzed on the desk. A long email from Julian. I opened it with trembling fingers, the screen’s glow harsh in the dim light. It was an email from Julian.

"Isla,

I know you’re angry. I know Dare’s spinning his web. But you need the full truth before he buries you in it. The Spain “scandal” wasn’t just business. Victor forced Dare into an arrangement with Elena Voss—daughter of a rival syndicate. Not just appearances. There were contracts, photos leaked deliberately to the press. Dare slept with her to seal a deal that saved Blackthorne from collapse. He didn’t fight it. He embraced the power.

And the letters? I delivered every one. Victor intercepted them. But Dare chose to believe the worst because it was easier than defying his father. He let you go. There are records—internal memos I’ve seen—where he agreed to the narrative that you’d moved on. To “focus.” He’s not the victim he pretends to be. He’s calculating, obsessive. The man who came back isn’t the boy you loved. He’ll break you to keep you.

Meet me, please. Before it’s too late. The flowers were just the start. I can get you out.

Yours, always,

Julian"

Doubt crashed over me like ice water. The photo I’d found—the one of Dare with the woman in Spain—aligned too neatly. Had he really chosen power over me? The vulnerable slip he’d just shown felt like another layer of manipulation. My stomach churned. Who was telling the truth? The man who cornered me with raw regret, or the one who’d offered safety for years?

I deleted the email immediately, because of the fear of Dare finding out. I can not risk it. But the words burned behind my eyes.

The elevator dinged unexpectedly. A courier stepped out, looking harried. “Delivery for Isla Harlow, urgent.”

I signed for the slim envelope, tearing it open as the man left. Inside the envelope was an official documents from the health authority, with a sticky note attached in stark black ink.

“Inspection orchestrated per internal directive. Resolved under Blackthorne pressure. Consider this a reminder of our deal. Cross me, and next time it won’t be so simple. – D”

My blood ran cold. This was a clear confirmation that Dare had been behind it—or at least leveraged it. The “miracle” clean bill was his doing, another chain tightening around my neck. He’d saved Mum’s restaurant only to remind me how easily he could destroy it. The control was absolute.

I looked up. Dare stood in his doorway, watching me with that unreadable intensity. He knew I’d received it.

“You did this,” I said, voice steady despite the storm inside. I held up the note. “You orchestrated the threat, then fixed it. To push me deeper.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he walked over, taking the papers from my hand. “You bargained for her safety. I only delivered it. But everything has a price, Isla. This is how the game works.”

The tension between us reignited, sharper now—s****l undercurrents mixed with betrayal and that damnable pull. “And what’s my price tonight?” I challenged, standing to face him. “More watching? More almost-kisses you pull away from? Or are you finally going to admit the regret I saw in your eyes?”

Dare’s hand cupped my face, thumb stroking my cheekbone. The touch was electric, his body close enough that I felt the heat radiating from him. “Regret?” he murmured, voice rough. “I regret losing you. I regret believing the lies. But I don’t regret having you here, under my control.” His lips hovered near mine, breath mingling. Tension coiled tight—his free hand at my waist, pulling me closer. I could taste the whiskey on his breath, feel the barely leashed hunger.

For one suspended moment, I thought he’d close the distance and kiss me, breaking us both.

Instead, he exhaled sharply and stepped back, the regret flashing again—subtle, guarded. “Go home, Isla. Before I forget why I’m supposed to hate you.”

I gathered my things, legs unsteady, the confirmation of his orchestration weighing like lead. Julian’s email warred with Dare’s touch in my mind. As the elevator doors closed, I caught one last glimpse of him watching me, a man torn between obsession and the ghosts of what we’d lost.

I was deeper in his world than ever. And the lines between love, revenge, and survival were vanishing fast.