CHAPTER SEVEN
540 Words
Chapter 7: Breaking Point
Isabella stormed into her penthouse that evening, slamming the door behind her. The meeting with Gabriel had left her seething. The audacity. The sheer arrogance. He thought he could manipulate her into handing over everything she had worked for?
She threw her handbag onto the couch and ran a hand through her hair, pacing. This wasn’t just about the missing money anymore. This was war. And she refused to let Gabriel win.
Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. Ethan.
She hesitated. After everything that had happened, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear his voice. But she knew Ethan—if he was calling, it wasn’t for something trivial.
Sighing, she picked up. “Ethan.”
His voice was calm, steady. “Isabella. We need to talk.”
She shut her eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Not tonight.”
“Then when?”
“Ethan—”
“I know about the missing money,” he cut in.
Her breath caught. “How?”
“Does it matter?” His voice hardened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She exhaled sharply, turning to face the city skyline. “Because it’s my problem.”
A beat of silence. Then—
“No, it’s not,” Ethan said quietly. “It’s ours.”
Something in her chest tightened. For so long, she had shouldered everything alone. Allowed herself to believe she didn’t need anyone.
But Ethan had always been different.
“I don’t want to drag you into this,” she murmured.
“You don’t have to. I’m already in it.”
Her grip on the phone tightened. “I met with Gabriel tonight.”
Ethan’s voice dropped dangerously low. “What did he say?”
“He wants a merger. He wants control.”
A sharp intake of breath. “And you said no.”
“Of course.”
Silence. Then—
“Meet me,” Ethan said. “Tonight.”
She hesitated. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to face him. To let her guard down.
But something in his voice made her say, “Where?”
“My place.”
A long pause.
Then she sighed. “I’ll be there.”
Thirty minutes later she arrived.
Ethan Carter’s penthouse was sleek and modern, much like the man himself. Isabella stepped out of the elevator, feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and anticipation.
Ethan was waiting for her by the floor-to-ceiling windows, hands in his pockets, watching the city below.
“You look tired,” he said when she stopped beside him.
She huffed a soft laugh. “I feel tired.”
He finally turned to face her, eyes searching hers. “Isabella, let me help you.”
She wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him she had it under control. But she was so damn tired of fighting alone.
Her shoulders sagged slightly. “I don’t know how.”
Ethan stepped closer, his warmth enveloping her. “Then let me show you.”
She looked up at him, something unspoken passing between them.
For the first time in years, she let herself believe—maybe, just maybe—she wasn’t alone.
And that changed everything.
- Writer
