Chapter 4 Isla's Pov
1634 Words
The worst moment of my life was being paused on a conference room screen.
While watching, I sat at a long glass table with my father on one side, Cade’s agent on the other, and Cade Harrington standing near the window like a storm everyone was pretending not to notice.
On the screen, my masked face was turned toward Cade’s neck. His hand was under my thigh. My fingers were twisted in his shirt.
It was the hotel footage, showing my humiliation in details.
Miranda Vale, Cade’s agent, tapped the remote and the image disappeared. She wore a white blazer, blood-red lipstick, and the expression of a woman who could turn disaster into anything else.
My father did not look at me. I was not surprised though.
Richard Bennett never had to raise his voice to punish anyone. His silence was enough. It came off him like cold weather, sharp and clean and impossible to ignore.
I folded my hands in my lap.
The photo of four positive pregnancy tests sat in my phone, hidden beneath my passcode like a live grenade.
No one knew.
Not Marcus.
Not Cade.
Not my father.
Especially not my father.
Miranda clicked again, and another headline filled the screen.
HARRINGTON FACES POSSIBLE SUSPENSION AFTER VALE HIT REVIEW.
“Here is the situation,” she said. “Cade’s reputation is toxic. Violent thug. Career destroyer. League liability. Sponsors are withdrawing interest, and the disciplinary committee is circling because the Marcus Vale incident refuses to die.”
I looked at Cade, noting how he did not even react.
He only stared out at the city below, broad shoulders stiff beneath his black shirt, jaw set like he had already decided he would not defend himself.
Miranda continued. “But if the injured player’s former fiancée is seen publicly with Cade, the story changes.”
I laughed at that but it had no humour in it. “You want to use me as emotional detergent.”
Miranda smiled bitterly. “I want to stop both of you from being destroyed.”
“My concern is not Cade Harrington.”
“No,” she said smoothly. “Your concern should be you.”
My father finally turned to me. “This would be wise, Isla.”
The disappointment in his voice was so familiar it didn't shake me.
“Would it?” I asked.
“You have already been humiliated by Marcus and Vivian,” he said. “They are publicly together now. People sympathize with you. If this video leaks, you lose that sympathy. You become reckless. Emotional. Unprofessional.”
My throat tightened. “Marcus cheated on me with Vivian. You can't blame me for that.”
“Yes,” he said calmly. “And somehow, you are still finding a way to make it worse.”
For a second, I only stared at him.
Some foolish part of me had expected concern. One sentence. Are you alright? Did anyone hurt you? Do you need to come home?
Instead, he had brought me into a conference room to manage my disgrace. How f*****g typical of him.
Miranda slid a folder toward me.
“Eight weeks,” she said. “Public dating. Controlled appearances. Limited interviews. Two games. One charity event. Selected social media. After that, a clean mutual breakup. You will be compensated.”
I did not touch the folder. “How much?”
“One hundred thousand dollars.”
The number entered the room quietly and changed nothing.
“No.”
Miranda’s eyes sharpened. “Think carefully.”
“I have.”
“No,” she said. “You have reacted.”
She clicked the remote. The footage returned.
This time, it played for only three seconds, but three seconds were enough to set my skin on fire.
It was of my mouth on Cade’s. His hands lifting me. My body pressed against his. The hotel door opening behind us.
“Stop,” I said.
Miranda paused it.
“There is a longer version,” she said. “Unedited corridor footage. With audio.”
Cade’s head turned and for the first time since I entered the room, his expression changed.
Miranda ignored him as she spoke, “There is a section where you say Marcus’s name while—”
“Stop.”
The word came out sharp enough to cut. The room went silent in response.
“That is blackmail,” I whispered.
“It is leverage,” Miranda said.
“No.”
Cade was the one who spoke this time. His voice was gruff with emotions as he spoke.
Miranda looked at him. “Cade.”
“If she says no, we do not do this.”
My father frowned while Miranda’s lips thinned in disapproval. I stared at Cade because I did not know what to do with a villain who suddenly sounded like someone on my side.
Cade looked at me as he continued. “I do not force women into anything.”
The words landed somewhere I did not want them.
I remembered the hotel. The way he had asked twice if I was sure. The way he had looked almost angry with himself before touching me again. The note he left behind.
And still, he was Cade Harrington.
The man who had skated away after Marcus screamed.
The man I had sworn to destroy.
I looked at the folder.
Eight weeks, I thought. Eight weeks of cover.
Eight weeks to confirm the pregnancy, calculate the dates, find a doctor, decide whether the child belonged to Marcus or the man standing across from me.
One hundred thousand dollars would get me out if I needed to disappear. It would pay for an apartment, legal advice, distance from my father, distance from Marcus, distance from Vivian’s smile.
And Marcus would see it.
Marcus, who had let me nurse him while he lied. Marcus, who had looked relieved when I found him with my sister. Marcus would have to watch me stand beside Cade Harrington, the man he blamed for the end of his career.
The satisfaction that moved through me was ugly.
I did not care.
“I have conditions if I agree,” I said.
Miranda smiled then while my father exhaled like I had finally become sensible.
Cade only watched me.
“We maintain separate residences. No exceptions.”
“Fine,” Miranda said.
“No intimacy. The hotel was a mistake, not a beginning.”
Cade’s jaw tightened but he said nothing.
“I approve every public statement, caption, photograph, interview answer and appearance tied to my name.”
“That may slow things down,” Miranda said.
“Then move faster.”
Something almost like amusement flickered in Cade’s eyes.
I ignored it.
“At the end of eight weeks, I receive one hundred thousand dollars and an NDA that binds all of you as tightly as it binds me. The money goes into an account not connected to Bennett Sports, Marcus Vale or any team payroll.”
My father’s mouth tightened just then. Miranda looked at Cade.
He nodded once.
“Done,” she said.
The contract appeared within twenty minutes.
I read every line slowly.
When I reached the signature page, my stomach rolled and I pressed one hand beneath the table against my abdomen.
Not now, I thought.
Please. Not here.
Then thankfully, my stomach calmed down and I was able to sign. Miranda signed next and Cade signed last.
My father did not sign because, officially, he was not part of the agreement. Unofficially, his fingerprints were on every wall in the room.
As Miranda gathered the papers, Cade came close enough that I felt his warmth before I looked up.
“Who breaks a woman’s heart the day before the biggest game of his life?” He murmured. “Maybe Marcus did not go onto that ice as innocent as you think.”
My pulse jumped. “What are you talking about?”
“The charity gala. The fight. The way he played the next night like a man already looking for an exit.”
Cold spread through me.
“The game was six months before I found Marcus and Vivian.”
Cade’s face changed slightly but I couldn't read what was going on in his mind.
Before I could ask another question, Miranda touched his arm. “We’re leaving.”
Cade stepped back.
“Cade,” I said.
He looked at me once, said nothing, and walked out with Miranda.
The door closed behind them. I stood there, heart pounding.
My father cleared his throat. “There is something else.”
I turned to him. The way he said it made me want to run before hearing the rest.
“Marcus and Vivian are engaged.”
For a second, the room lost sound.
“What?”
“The wedding is in eight weeks.”
My vision blurred at the edges.
“The same weekend your arrangement with Harrington ends,” he added.
I laughed once but it broke halfway.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what to think.
Just then my phone rang, causing me to jump. It was an unknown number.
My father glanced at it. “Answer it later.”
Out of defiance, I answered immediately.
Static came first. Then a man spoke. His voice sounded like Cade’s and it caused my brows to shot in surprise.
The voice was rougher. Darker. Like the same instrument played with a dirtier hand.
Who the hell was it, I wondered?
“You do not know me,” he said, “but we need to meet.”
My skin went cold. “Who is this?”
A pause came.
Then he said, “My brother is using you. And you are in danger.”
- Writer
