Between Two Brothers

CHAPTER 15.

ISLA'S POV

Victor Alistair Blackthorne’s office felt like a pressure chamber, every inch designed to remind visitors of their insignificance. The heavy oak desk gleamed under recessed lighting, the London skyline a distant, conquered backdrop. I sat straighter in the leather chair, heart hammering against my ribs, but I refused to shrink. After weeks of Serena’s barbs, Dare’s mind games, and Julian’s calculated concern, I had found my spine. Victor would not break it today.

“You summoned me, Mr. Blackthorne,” I said, keeping my voice even. “If this is about the Mercer file, Dare and I—”

“This has nothing to do with spreadsheets or acquisitions,” Victor cut in, his tone smooth as aged whiskey and twice as dangerous. He leaned forward, sharp eyes dissecting me. “Your position here is more dangerous than you realize, Isla. Far more. You’re not just caught between my son and nephew. You’re standing in the middle of a web of secrets that have destroyed stronger women than you.”

I swallowed hard, the earlier hint of bigger family secrets echoing in my mind. “Then enlighten me. Or is this another power play to push me out?”

Victor’s smile was thin, predatory. “Enlighten? No. I’m offering you an exit. A generous one.” He slid a sleek black folder across the desk. Inside: a check. The number on it made my breath catch—enough to secure Mum’s restaurant for years, cover every medical bill, and give me breathing room to start over far from the Blackthorne name. “You must leave, permanently. No notice, no more games with Darian. Take this, disappear from our world, and your mother’s lease remains untouched. Future inspections? Nonexistent. You walk away intact.”

The offer hung in the air like a gilded trap. For a split second, temptation flickered. This was screaming freedom and safety. No more humiliation, no more charged almost-kisses that left me aching and furious, no more being a pawn.

I closed the folder and pushed it back, slowly. “No.”

Victor’s eyebrows rose fractionally—the closest he came to surprise. “No? Girl, you’ve survived on scraps for years. This is security, and legacy. Pride won’t feed your mother when her health fails again.”

I met his gaze without flinching, channeling every ounce of resilience I’d built. “Pride kept us alive after you discarded my mother like yesterday’s trash. I won’t let you buy me out of your son’s life. Or whatever secrets you’re so terrified will surface. I’m not leaving. Not like this.”

His expression hardened. “Foolish. Darian is repeating history—obsessing over something that doesn’t belong in our world. You’ll be collateral damage when it all collapses. Mark my words.”

The door to Victor’s office burst open with enough force to rattle the frame. Dare stormed in, eyes blazing with fury, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He must have been monitoring or tipped off—his protectiveness had grown sharper since the Savoy.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dare demanded, voice low and lethal as he positioned himself between me and the desk. His hand brushed my shoulder briefly—a rare, possessive anchor—before he focused on his father. “She’s not one of your employees to bribe and discard, Father. Isla stays.”

Victor rose slowly, radiating cold authority. “Darian. Always so predictable. I warned you about repeating past mistakes. Your mother’s choices nearly cost us everything once. Now you’re dragging this… attachment back into our house. Into our legacy.”

Dare’s fists clenched at his sides. The tension between father and son crackled like live electricity. “My mistakes? You mean the way you forced me into Spain? Fed me lies about Isla and Julian until I believed she’d betrayed me? You orchestrated the silence. The letters. All of it to mold me into your image.”

Victor’s laugh was humorless. “I protected the empire. Something you seem determined to jeopardize for a maid’s daughter, again. Remember Elena Voss? The deals you closed because you finally understood sacrifice? Or have you forgotten how close we came to ruin because of misplaced… emotions?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Dare shot back, stepping closer to the desk. His voice dropped dangerously. “I remember every forced dinner, every photo op that made me sick. But Isla isn’t a liability. She’s the only real thing I’ve ever had. And you don’t get to buy her off or threaten her out of my life.”

I stood, inserting myself carefully but firmly into the fray. The air felt too thick, too volatile. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here. I refused the money, Victor. I’m not going anywhere until I understand what’s really happening—with my mother, with whatever blood secrets you’re hiding. You don’t control me.”

Victor’s gaze shifted to me, calculating. “Brave words. But bravery gets people crushed in this family. Darian knows that better than most.” He turned back to his son. “End this infatuation before it costs you what I’ve built. Or I will.”

Dare’s hand found the small of my back again, guiding me toward the door with surprising gentleness amid the storm. “We’re done here. Touch her again—threaten her again—and we’ll see whose legacy crumbles first.”

The confrontation left the room vibrating with unresolved power. Victor watched us leave, his silence more threatening than any words.

The elevator ride down from Victor’s floor was suffocating. The mirrored walls reflected our tense forms—Dare’s broad frame dominating the small space, me standing close but not touching, the silk of my blouse still rumpled from the chair. Charged silence wrapped around us, broken only by the soft hum of descent.

Dare stared straight ahead at first, jaw tight, but his hand kept brushing mine, as if reassuring himself I was still there. Finally, he turned, backing me gently against the cool metal wall. Not trapping me like before, but close enough that I felt the heat rolling off him. His dark eyes searched mine, raw with something deeper than anger.

“He doesn’t get to touch what’s mine,” he murmured, voice rough and low. The possessiveness carried a rare thread of protectiveness. “Not with money. Not with threats. Not with whatever ghosts he’s dredging up about your mother.”

I tilted my head up, refusing to yield even as my pulse raced. “Yours? Is that what I am now, Dare? A possession you protect one minute and punish the next? I refused his offer because I won’t be bought. Not by him. Not by you. But that doesn’t mean I’m yours.”

His hand came up, cupping my jaw with surprising tenderness. The elevator lights cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the crack in his armor I’d seen earlier—the regret, the exhaustion. “You’ve always been mine, Isla. Even when I believed the lies. Even when I tried to hate you.” His thumb traced my lower lip, sending sparks through me. “Seeing him offer you that check… it made me realize how close I came to losing you again. Spain broke something in me. But you being here, pushing back, refusing to run—it’s putting the pieces back wrong. And it is dangerous, for both of us.”

The tension spiked, intimate and heavy. Our bodies were inches apart in the confined space. I could smell his cologne, feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat where my hand rested against his chest. The almost-kiss from last night hovered between us again, charged with everything unsaid.

“Then stop shutting down,” I whispered fiercely. “Tell me about Spain. Tell me about the letters. Stop protecting the secrets and protect me —the way you say you want to.”

Dare’s forehead dropped to mine, breath mingling. His free hand gripped my waist, pulling me closer for one suspended heartbeat. The kiss felt inevitable—lips hovering, bodies pressed, the elevator became a private world away from Victor’s threats and Julian’s messages. Desire warred with the walls we’d both built.

But the doors dinged open on our floor.

He pulled back with visible effort, the rare protectiveness still burning in his eyes. “Not here. Not like this. But I won’t let him touch you. That’s a promise.”

We stepped out into the suite, the charged silence following us like a shadow. My refusal to Victor had drawn a line in the sand. Dare’s defense had revealed another fracture in his cold exterior. But as we walked back toward his office, the weight of bigger family secrets pressed down harder than ever.

Victor’s warning echoing in my mind.