Between Two Brothers

CHAPTER 8.

ISLA'S POV

The morning after my sleepless night felt like walking into a battlefield already rigged against me. My eyes burned from exhaustion as I stepped off the private elevator, but I kept my chin high. The tablet in my hands held Dare’s impossible schedule, now slightly less chaotic thanks to my all-nighter. Still, the list of errands attached was designed to humiliate.

Dare didn’t even glance up when I entered his office to confirm the day’s agenda. “Dry cleaning first. Then the whiskey. Documents for the Tokyo team by ten. Don’t disappoint me, Harlow.”

I swallowed my retort and got to work, immediately.

The dry cleaning was ruined before I even reached the office. The Mayfair shop handed me the wrong suit—Serena’s doing, I suspected, when I caught her smirking from the car she’d “borrowed” me for errands. The whiskey bottle slipped from my trembling hands in the lobby, shattering across marble. Wrong documents? I delivered the merger files to the wrong floor, triggering a chain of frantic calls.

By midday, I was firefighting. I used every favor I’d earned in six years to track down replacement dry cleaning, sweet-talked the distillery contact for an emergency bottle, and manually corrected the digital files on my phone while sprinting between buildings. It wasn’t perfect, but I salvaged enough to keep the most critical meetings from total collapse.

Serena made sure everyone knew about my failures.

“Isla!” she called sweetly from Dare’s outer office, loud enough for the assistants to hear. “Be a dear and fetch my coffee. Oat milk, two pumps vanilla, extra hot. Unless fetching drinks is above a maid’s daughter’s pay grade?”

The staff snickered. Rumors spread like poison: She only got the job because she’s sleeping with both cousins. Pathetic. I bit my tongue until it bled and delivered her damn coffee, spilling none of it despite my shaking hands.

Dare watched it all from his glass-walled office. He saw Serena trip me in the hallway, sending papers flying. He saw the whispers. But he only intervened once, when I returned from yet another impossible errand drenched in rain.

“Enough, Serena,” he said flatly, not even looking up from his screen. “She’s still breathing, barely.”

He is testing me. Pushing to see when I’d finally break.

I was on my knees again—picking up scattered briefs—when Julian stormed in carrying a takeout bag, his face a mask of concern laced with fury.

“Isla.” He set the bag on my desk, ignoring Serena’s raised eyebrow. “You look exhausted. Come with me. I’ve secured you a position at my firm—better pay, no games. You don’t have to endure this.”

Before I could respond, Dare’s office door flew open. He strode out, eyes narrowing at the lunch bag like it was a personal insult.

“Still playing knight, cousin?” Dare’s voice was low, dangerous. “She made her choice yesterday. Or have you forgotten how quickly security removed you?”

Julian stepped closer, tension coiling between them like a spring. “This isn’t a choice, it’s blackmail. Using her mother’s lease? You’re pathetic, Dare. Isla, he doesn’t care about you. He’s using you to get to me.”

“To you?” I echoed, standing between them, my voice sharper than I intended. The exhaustion made everything raw. “This isn’t about me at all, is it? It’s always been about power between you two.”

Serena leaned against the desk, enjoying the show. “Boys, boys. Fighting over the help again?”

Dare’s gaze locked on Julian. “She stays. Her performance, however mediocre, is mine to judge. Run along before I have security reintroduce you to the pavement.”

Julian turned to me, pleading. “Isla, please. I can protect you from him. From all of this.”

I hesitated, the weight of Mum’s tired face flashing in my mind. “I can’t, Julian. Not yet.”

His expression shattered. “You’re letting him break you.” He left the lunch untouched and walked out, shoulders rigid.

The afternoon dragged. I slipped away to the executive washroom near the conference room to splash water on my face, only to freeze when I heard voices through the cracked door—Victor and Dare.

“…firing her was necessary,” Finn, Dare's Right hand man was saying, his tone clipped. “Julian’s been maneuvering too aggressively, building alliances in the lower ranks. Bringing the Harlow girl back gives us leverage. She’s the perfect pressure point. Julian wants her. You want her broken. Either way, it weakens his position in the company.”

Dare’s reply was colder. “She’s useful. Nothing more.”

My stomach twisted. Leverage. That’s all I was. A pawn in their endless family war.

I fled back to my desk before they emerged, heart pounding.

Hours later, long after the office emptied, I sat alone at my small station. The city lights blurred through my tears as everything crashed down—the failures, the bullying, the overheard truth. I buried my face in my hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Six years of fighting, and I was still just a tool.

A soft footstep made me jolt upright.

Dare stood in his office doorway, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. For a moment, his mask slipped. His dark eyes held something raw, almost pained, as they traced my tear-streaked face.

“Why him, Isla?” The words escaped quietly, involuntarily, like a crack in armor he couldn’t seal fast enough. “After everything… why Julian?”

I wiped my eyes furiously, refusing to let him see more weakness. “Why does it matter to you? You have Serena. You have your revenge.”

His jaw clenched. The vulnerability vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by icy control. “It doesn’t. Finish the reports and go home. Don’t make me regret keeping you.”

He turned away, but not before I caught the slightest hesitation in his step. The door to his office clicked shut, leaving me alone with the devastating weight of his question and the ruins of my day.