The Devil Also Wears A Ring

4

Isabella woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and the worst headache of her life. For a disorienting moment, she couldn't remember where she was or how she had gotten there. Then, the events of the previous day came flooding back losing her job, catching Scarlett and Cole together, fleeing to Club Enigma, meeting Liam...

Liam. She was in his penthouse, in his guest bed.

Groaning, she sat up slowly, her head pounding in protest. The clock on the bedside table read 7:15 AM early, but not unreasonably so. Still, she had no idea what Liam's morning routine was like, and the last thing she wanted was an awkward encounter in the harsh light of day.

Moving quietly, Isabella gathered her belongings and dressed in her clothes from the night before. She ran her fingers through her long brown hair, attempting to tame it into some semblance of order, and splashed water on her face in the ensuite bathroom.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. Her ocean blue eyes were rimmed with red, mascara smudged beneath them despite her attempts to clean it off. Her freckles stood out starkly against her pale skin, and her lips were dry and chapped. She looked exactly like what she was a woman who had had her heart broken and tried to drown the pain in alcohol.

"Get it together, Isabella," she whispered to her reflection. "You need to get out of here and figure out what's next."

She crept out of the guest room, wincing at the slight creak of the door. The penthouse was quiet, with no sign of Liam. Perhaps he was still asleep, or maybe he had already left for work. Either way, it was a relief she wasn't prepared to face him sober, to navigate the shift from the intimate connection they had shared last night to the awkward reality of the morning after.

As she made her way through the luxurious living room toward the elevator, she paused to scribble a quick note on a pad she found on a side table: "Thank you for your kindness. Isabella"

It wasn't much, but it was all she could offer that, and a silent prayer that their paths wouldn't cross again. The last thing she needed was another complication in her already messy life.

The elevator descended smoothly, depositing her in the lobby where the same security guard from the night before gave her a knowing look. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she hurried past him and out onto the street, where the morning sun momentarily blinded her.

Once she had her bearings, Isabella hailed a cab, giving the driver the address of a modest hotel she knew. She couldn't go home, not with Scarlett and Cole there, not with the memory of their betrayal still fresh.

As the taxi navigated the morning traffic, Isabella leaned her throbbing head against the window and tried to make sense of her shattered life. In the span of a few weeks, she had lost her job, her fiancé, and her best friend. She was homeless, at least temporarily, with only a new job offer and the clothes on her back to her name.

"It can only go up from here," she murmured to herself, a desperate attempt at optimism that fell flat even to her own ears.

At the hotel, she checked in for a week, using the credit card she kept for emergencies. It wasn't ideal, but it would give her time to find a more permanent solution. The room was clean and basic, a far cry from Liam's luxurious penthouse but sufficient for her needs.

After a long, hot shower and a change of clothes from the small overnight bag she always kept in her desk at work (a habit from her frequent overtime shifts), Isabella felt marginally more human. She ordered room service a bland breakfast that her stomach might actually keep down and sat cross-legged on the bed to outline her next steps.

First, she needed to retrieve her belongings from the apartment she shared with Scarlett. Then, she would need to find a new place to live before starting her new job at Lyons Dynasty on Monday. The thought of facing Scarlett again made her stomach churn, but there was no avoiding it if she wanted her things.

After forcing down some toast and coffee, Isabella steeled herself for the confrontation and headed back to the apartment. She timed her arrival for mid-morning, hoping Scarlett would be out at one of her modeling gigs. To her relief, the apartment was quiet when she slipped her key into the lock.

The evidence of the aborted surprise party remained deflating balloons, half-eaten food, empty bottles scattered across surfaces. It was a poignant reminder of her naivete, of how completely she had been duped by the two people she trusted most.

Working quickly, Isabella gathered her essential belongings clothes, personal documents, sentimental items that couldn't be replaced. She packed methodically, compartmentalizing her emotions just as she was compartmentalizing her possessions, deciding what to keep and what to leave behind.

She was zipping up her final suitcase when she heard the front door open. Freezing in place, she hoped it was one of their friends coming back to clean up, or perhaps the housekeeper. But the familiar click of high heels on hardwood told her exactly who it was.

"Running away, Isabella?" Scarlett's voice dripped with false concern as she appeared in the doorway of Isabella's bedroom. She looked immaculate as always, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her makeup flawless. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who had been sobbing about her pregnancy just weeks ago.

Isabella straightened her spine, refusing to be intimidated in her own home. "Moving on," she corrected, her voice steadier than she felt. "There's a difference."

Scarlett leaned against the doorframe, a calculated casualness to her posture. "Cole's been calling you non-stop. He's worried."

"I changed my number," Isabella replied curtly, continuing to fold her clothes into a suitcase. It was a lie she hadn't had time yet but the thought of either of them trying to contact her made her skin crawl.

"He says it was a mistake," Scarlett continued, examining her manicured nails. "That he was drunk and I seduced him."

Isabella paused, her hands stilling on a sweater. "And what do you say?" she asked, genuinely curious about what possible justification Scarlett could offer for sleeping with her best friend's fiancé.

Scarlett's brown eyes flashed with something dangerous not remorse, but a kind of defiant pride. "I say I've been in love with him for years," she admitted, her tone almost challenging. "And that he feels the same way about me. He was only with you because you were... safe. Predictable."

The words stung, but Isabella refused to show it. "And the baby?" she asked, resuming her packing. "Was that part of your grand love story too?"

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Scarlett's face before she masked it with a shrug. "A happy accident," she said, though the words lacked conviction. "Cole's excited about becoming a father."

Isabella zipped her suitcase closed with more force than necessary. "Well, congratulations to both of you," she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. "I hope you'll be very happy together."

She gathered her bags, preparing to walk past Scarlett and out of the apartment and their friendship for good.

"Where will you go?" Scarlett asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice.

Isabella met her former friend's gaze squarely. "Somewhere better," she replied simply. "Somewhere where the people in my life are worthy of my trust."

With those parting words, she brushed past Scarlett and left the apartment, not bothering to look back. The door closed behind her with a definitive click, signaling the end of a chapter in her life that had turned out to be built on lies.

Back at the hotel, Isabella spent the remainder of the day searching for a new apartment. By evening, she had scheduled viewings for the next day and ordered in a simple dinner, exhaustion seeping into her bones.

As she lay in the unfamiliar hotel bed that night, staring at the ceiling, Isabella made a promise to herself: from now on, she would prioritize her career over relationships. Love had proven to be a liability, a distraction that left her vulnerable to betrayal. Work, on the other hand, was reliable. It rewarded dedication and hard work with tangible results.

Starting Monday, Isabella Jaxon Hayes would be a new woman focused, professional, and above all, impervious to the complications of love.

Little did she know that her resolution would be tested sooner than she anticipated, and by the very man whose guest bed she had vacated that morning.