The Billionaire's Collateral: Debt of the heart

Isla walked slowly down the hallway, her hands shaking a little as she tied her hair back. She heard plates clattering in the kitchen. Then Macy's voice, annoyed as always. "Ugh, Mom, she left her bag in the hall again. She's so messy." Isla looked at her small bag. It was hanging neatly on the hook where it always went. It wasn't messy at all. Macy just wanted something to complain about, she wanted to put Isla down before breakfast even started. Lydia came into the hallway, wearing a silk robe and had that careful smile on her face. "Oh, Isla, sweetheart." Lydia put her hand on her chest like she was worried. "You know your father hates things looking untidy, you really need to try harder to keep things tidy." Isla's voice came out quiet. "It's just my bag. I always leave it there." "Yes, I know." Lydia sighed like this was such a big problem. "But sometimes you need to adjust for the family, you understand?" She looked toward the dining room. Harrison Kane sat there like a statue, reading his newspaper. He didn't move nor did he acknowledge them. ‘Family’ she thought to herself, that never included her and she was just someone who lived in this house, someone they had to deal with. "I'll move it," Isla said. She bent down to pick up the bag that was already in the right place. Macy walked past and bumped her shoulder hard into Isla's arm. She did it on purpose. "Watch it," Macy snapped. "You bumped into me," Isla said softly. Macy made a scoffing sound. "Don't lie, it's embarrassing." Isla held her breath because if she argued, things would get worse and if she stayed quiet, the insults would keep coming. There was no way to win in this house. Lydia clicked her tongue. "Girls, stop. Macy, darling, give your sister a little grace." Isla knows she was no one's sister, but she didn't refute it. Lydia only wanted to sound kind which she isn't. Macy rolled her eyes. "Sure, Mom. I'll give my sister grace right after she stops acting like charity." "Macy!" Lydia said it like a scolding, but her eyes looked amused. Isla saw it, this was Lydia's favorite game by pretending to defend Isla while enjoying every second of her pain. Isla took a breath and carried her bag to her small room near the stairs. Then she came back to the kitchen for breakfast. Harrison was still reading he didn't look at her, not even a glance. "Good morning, Dad," she said quietly. He turned a page, no answer, no sign he heard her, nothing. Macy smiled that mean smile. "Maybe he didn't hear you, try louder." Lydia put a gentle hand on Isla's back. Her voice got low and fake-sweet. "Your father has a lot on his mind, darling. Don't take it personally." Isla forced herself to smile a little. "I didn't." But she did, her father hadn't said good morning to her since she was eleven years old. She tried not to think about it and tried no to remember either. Isla sat down carefully, hands folded in her lap. She watched as Lydia started serving breakfast. This was part of the morning routine, the part that hurt most. "For Macy." Lydia put a full plate of pancakes with fresh berries in front of her daughter. The berries were bright red and perfectly placed. "And for Harrison." She set down scrambled eggs and buttered toast next to him. He didn't look up and didn't thank her. Then Lydia turned to Isla. She put one slice of plain bread on Isla's plate then she slid the butter dish toward her like it was a generous gift. "And for you, sweetheart." She said it like she was doing Isla a huge favor. The single piece of bread looked small and lonely on the big plate. At least she got butter. "Thank you," Isla whispered. "That's my girl," Lydia said, patting her shoulder. Macy leaned back in her chair. "Honestly, Isla, you're too skinny. You should eat more." Isla blinked. "Then why..." "Don't be ungrateful," Macy cut her off. "Mom gave you food." Lydia sighed. "Girls, please. Isla, darling, Macy only wants to help. She's protective of you." ‘What a lie’ she thought to herself. Isla took a bite of the dry bread. She stared at her father, begging silently for anything, a look, a word or even anger would be something. He kept reading, drinking the coffee Lydia poured for him. Lydia noticed Isla staring she leaned close and whispered, "He's under a lot of pressure. You know how hard he works to keep this family going." Isla nodded even though she didn't believe it. She'd seen the bills hidden in his study, the overdue notices. She'd heard the late night arguments between Lydia and her father. The threats, the blame and lately, she heard one word more than any other: debt. When breakfast ended, Isla cleared the plates. She was grateful for something to do. Something that let her move quietly. But while she washed the dishes, Macy's sharp voice called from the other room. "Mom, tell her the news." Lydia gasped and put her hand over her mouth. "Macy, darling, I told you we'd wait." "Wait for what? She's going to find out anyway." Isla stopped washing. Her heart started pounding. "Find out what?" Lydia walked over to her. Her voice got soft in that rehearsed, fake way. "We don't want to overwhelm you, love. But your father is facing some difficulties, he is in a lot of debt and there are threats…." Harrison finally spoke. His voice was flat and cold. "Isla, don't make this dramatic." She froze. The fact that he spoke at all made her chest tighten. "I wasn't," she said quietly. Macy smirked at her father. "She looks terrified. It's kind of funny." "Macy." Lydia said it calmly. "Sweetheart, don't laugh at her. She's sensitive, you know." Isla closed her eyes for a second. She wanted to scream, she wanted to disappear but she stayed quiet. Harrison stood up and folded his newspaper. "I'm leaving. Lydia, explain things later. I don't have patience for her questions." ‘Her’, not Isla, not my daughter. What was she expecting anyway? He left without looking back. The front door slammed. Lydia sighed and put her arm around Isla's shoulders. "He's under stress, darling. He doesn't mean to be harsh." Isla whispered, "He's always harsh." Lydia's eyes flashed with annoyance for just a second. Then she covered it with that sweet voice. "Now, now, Isla. Don't play the victim. We all do our best here." Macy snorted. "Well. Some of us do." Lydia squeezed Isla's arm too tight. "Just keep your head down today, okay? Things might get worse." Isla went stiff. "Why would they get worse?" Lydia smiled. It was sweet and cruel at the same time. "You'll see,” Lydia said softly. “ Everything is about to change for you, Isla." A chill went down Isla's back. She grabbed her bag and put it over her shoulder. "Going to hide at your little flower shop again?" Macy called out. Isla was already at the door. "Must be nice to run away every day." Lydia's voice followed her, smooth and fake. "Stay safe, sweetheart. And don't say anything to upset your father later. You know how fragile he is." Isla stepped outside. The sunlight made her blink, the world outside looked normal. But inside her chest, she felt something growing, dread and fear. For the first time in years, that fear was getting louder than her silence.