There's One Thing I Like About Him

Chapter Ten

Isabelle

As I slid into the passenger seat, I shot Cliff a sharp look. “Why were you talking to her?” My voice was laced with irritation, a tone I reserved for when things weren’t going according to plan. He kept his eyes on the road, his silence only fueling my frustration.

“Remember,” I continued, my tone cutting, “you wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for me. So act like it!”

Cliff finally glanced at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Relax, Belle. Why are you so anxious about her? It’s not like she’s stealing Ethan away from you.”

His nonchalance only made my blood boil. I clenched my fists, feeling the anger surge through me, my voice rising with each word. “I won’t let that happen—never! Never in a million years! Ethan is mine. So do your job properly while I’m gone.” I stopped, turning to glare at him with a fierce intensity. “And don’t,” I added, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper, “forget it. Just make sure everything goes as planned.”

With that, I yanked the car door open, stepping out into the cool air. Lighting a cigarette, I took a long drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs as I tried to calm my nerves. The nicotine did little to soothe the storm brewing inside me. This trip was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to solidify my place by Ethan’s side, but everything felt precariously on edge.

When we arrived at the airport, I retrieved my luggage from the trunk and rolled it toward the entrance. Before heading inside, I shot Cliff one last, exasperated look, silently warning him not to mess things up.

Inside the airport, the bustling crowd and the overhead announcements created a stark contrast to the tension still clinging to me like a second skin. I pulled out my phone, glancing at the time. The flight was on schedule, but even a minor delay could throw everything off balance. I couldn’t afford any mistakes. Not now.

My thoughts drifted back to Markus—his easy laughter, the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at me. He was my escape, my future. But the more I thought about him, the more it felt like I was losing grip on the very thing that once felt so secure.

I made my way to the departure gate, trying to focus on the task at hand. My phone buzzed in my hand—a text from Markus. Miss you already. Can’t wait to see you after a few weeks.

I forced a smile as I tapped out a quick reply. Miss you too. See you soon. The words felt hollow, a poor reflection of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

As soon as I hit send, my phone rang. An unknown number flashed on the screen. I hesitated for a moment, but then answered.

“It’s ready,” said a familiar voice from the other end.

“Good,” I replied, my voice steady despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through me. “Make sure everything goes as planned.” I ended the call, a satisfied smirk tugging at my lips. I had something prepared for Ethan—something that would shatter the illusion of his perfect life. He wouldn’t know what hit him, and by the time he realized, it would be too late. His happiness, his world, would crumble, leaving nothing but ruins in its wake. And I’d be there, watching with satisfaction as I claimed everything that was rightfully mine.

With Ethan out of the way, Markus and I could finally disappear, far from the prying eyes of those who thought they knew us. I imagined a new life, peaceful and carefree, just the two of us by the beach, far from the chaos I was about to unleash.

A sudden announcement crackled over the intercom, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Attention, passengers: Flight 208 to Los Angeles is now boarding at Gate 12. We thank you for your patience and wish you a pleasant journey.”

I took one last drag from my cigarette before stubbing it out, then made my way to the gate. This was it—the beginning of the end for Ethan, and the start of something new for me.

The twenty-hour flight felt like an eternity, each minute stretching out as I anticipated what was to come. By the time we landed, and I disembarked, exhaustion weighed heavily on me. The long journey had left me drained, and a dull ache throbbed in my temples. As I exited the airport, a man in a black suit approached me.

“This way, Miss Yu,” he said with a respectful nod, leading the way to a sleek black car waiting at the curb.

He took my luggage and placed it in the trunk as I slid into the back seat. The quiet hum of the engine was a welcome relief after the constant noise of the flight. I glanced at my phone when it lit up, revealing several new messages. The first was from Ethan’s mother: We have already admitted Ethan to the UCLA Medical Center.

I stared at the message for a moment before dismissing it. I didn’t bother replying. I’d deal with them tomorrow—tonight, I needed to rest, to gather my strength for what was to come.

Ignoring the other messages, I leaned back on the seat, closing my eyes. The car sped through the night, the city lights blurring past. Tomorrow, everything will change. Ethan would finally pay for all his mistakes, and I would be free to live the life I deserved, far away from anyone who knew the truth.

The ride from the airport to the hotel felt like a blur, the city’s bright lights and towering skyscrapers passing by in a haze. My thoughts were a tangled mess of anticipation and exhaustion. By the time we arrived at the hotel, the exhaustion from the long flight had fully settled in, making every movement feel difficult.

The car pulled up to the entrance of a luxurious hotel, its grand facade illuminated by soft, golden lights. The doorman, dressed impeccably in a crisp uniform, hurried to open the door for me. I stepped out, taking in the surrounding opulence around me. The air was cooler here, carrying a hint of salt from the nearby ocean, and the faint sound of waves crashing in the distance added a touch of serenity to the bustling city backdrop.

“Welcome to The Oceana,” the doorman said with a polite smile, as he gestured for a bellhop to take my luggage.

I nodded in acknowledgment, not really in the mood for pleasantries. The flight had drained me, and all I wanted was to collapse into bed. As I walked through the revolving doors and into the lobby, I couldn’t help but admire the understated elegance of the place. Marble floors gleamed under the soft lighting, and the gentle murmur of a water fountain added a calming ambiance. It was exactly the kind of place I needed—quiet, refined, and far removed from the chaos of my thoughts.

The receptionist greeted me with the kind of practiced smile you’d expect in a hotel of this caliber. “Good evening, Miss Yu. We’ve been expecting you. Your suite is ready.”

I nodded, returning a polite smile as I handed over my ID and credit card for verification. The receptionist quickly completed the check-in process and handed me a keycard, along with a discreet nod from the concierge, who was already waiting to escort me to my suite.

“Right this way, ma’am,” he said, leading me to a private elevator that whisked us up to the top floor. The ride was smooth, and the silence was a welcome reprieve from the noise of the day. I leaned back against the elevator wall, closing my eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather my thoughts. The next few days would be crucial—every move had to be precise, every detail perfect.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a hallway lined with plush carpeting and abstract art. The concierge led me to the end of the corridor and stopped in front of a double door. “Your suite, Miss Yu. If you need anything, just dial zero, and we’ll be at your service.”

I gave him a small nod of thanks and waited until he disappeared down the hallway before inserting the keycard into the slot. The door clicked open, revealing a spacious, elegantly decorated suite. The soft lighting, muted colors, and luxurious furnishings were all designed to create an atmosphere of tranquility and comfort.

I walked in, closing the door behind me, and took a moment to absorb the stillness. The suite was stunning—a large living area with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city below. A king-sized bed, draped in crisp white linens, beckoned from the bedroom, and the adjoining bathroom featured a deep soaking tub that promised to melt away the fatigue of the long journey.

Dropping my handbag on the plush sofa, I kicked off my heels and padded over to the windows. The city was alive with lights, stretching out as far as the eye could see, but up here, it felt like I was in my own private world, far removed from everything else. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, allowing myself a brief moment of vulnerability. For a few seconds, I let the weight of what I was about to do wash over me.

But only for a few seconds. I straightened up, steeling myself for what was to come. There was no room for doubt, no space for second-guessing. Everything had to go perfectly.

Walking over to the bedroom, I opened my suitcase and began unpacking. My phone buzzed with another message, but I ignored it, focusing instead on the task at hand. I need to prepare for tomorrow. The plan was already set in motion, and there was no turning back now.

As I finished unpacking, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, the carefully crafted facade of a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it. But beneath that mask, there was something else—a flicker of doubt, perhaps, or maybe just fatigue. I quickly turned away, not wanting to confront whatever it was that lingered in my eyes.

After a quick shower, I slipped into a silk robe and made my way back to the living room. The minibar caught my eye, and I poured myself a glass of wine, the rich red liquid swirling in the crystal glass like a promise of calm. I took a sip, savoring the warmth as it spread through me, easing the tension in my shoulders.

I sank into the sofa, the soft cushions enveloping me, and let out a long, slow breath. Tomorrow would be a pivotal day, one that would set everything into motion. But for tonight, I allowed myself this brief moment of peace, this small respite before the storm.