The Billionaire Who Ruined Me

4 DaYs LefT

Isla James' POV

I didn't even wait for morning to fully settle in before I reached for my phone. Sleep wasn't important. Peace wasn't important. Not anymore. Only answers were.

The moment the call connected, I didn't waste a second.

"Adrian, come to my house. We need to talk."

A pause.

I already knew that tone of silence. The one where he was about to refuse. About to control the pace again.

So I didn't give him the chance.

I hung up.

Just like that.

"...Good," I muttered, dropping the phone on the bed. "Let him complain to the air."

And somehow, I felt a strange satisfaction in that. Small. Petty. But real.

He came anyway. Of course he did. Adrian Vale didn't ignore things he calculated them. And when he arrived, I was already waiting at the door, arms crossed, frustration sitting neatly behind my expression like it had been rehearsed.

"You could've told me earlier,"

I said immediately as he stepped in. "About the wedding date. About everything."

He didn't even flinch.

"It wasn't finalized," he replied calmly.

"Not finalized?" I repeated, voice sharpening. "My life is not a draft document you revise when you feel like it."

A faint pause.

"You're overreacting," he said.

That did it.

I laughed once short, sharp, disbelieving. "Overreacting? You drop a marriage date on me like it's a calendar reminder and I'm overreacting?"

Still nothing. No apology. No softness. Just that infuriating control.

"You would've known in time," he added.

"In time for what?" I stepped closer. "To prepare my breakdown schedule?"

His jaw tightened slightly. Barely noticeable. But I saw it.

"And don't stand there acting like I agreed to be your... arrangement accessory," I snapped.

A beat.

Then he said it.

"You already agreed."

Silence.

Something inside me snapped cleanly.

"No," I said sharply. "I didn't agree to be rushed, controlled, or blindsided."

His eyes darkened slightly.

"You're not walking away from this," he said, voice lower now.

"Oh?" I tilted my head. "Watch me."

That did it.

A shift.

Not loud. Not dramatic. But real. Something colder moved through him.

"Don't do anything stupid," he said.

I smiled faintly.

"Then stop giving me reasons."

For the first time, his composure cracked just slightly not into chaos, but into anger. Controlled. Dangerous. The kind that didn't need volume.

He turned.

And left.

No slamming doors. No shouting. Just silence that felt heavier than noise.

And when he was gone, I stood there blinking like my brain was trying to catch up with my mouth.

"...Did I just say 'watch me' to Adrian Vale?"

I stared at the empty space.

Then slowly sank to the floor.

"...Who's going to invest in Rebel Threads now?" I whispered. "My mouth is going to kill my company before he does."

I tapped my lips once.

"Traitor," I muttered. "You had one job."

Later that day, Marcus showed up.

Of course he did.

He didn't knock like usual. Just leaned in like he already knew I was going to agree before I even thought about it.

"Walk with me," he said.

I blinked. "That sounded like a command."

"It's an invitation," he corrected. "A rare one. Don't ruin it."

"...Fine."

I surprised even myself by standing up.

We walked.

No destination. Just streets, air, noise, life continuing like nothing in my world was currently burning. Marcus bought ice cream without asking me what I wanted first vanilla for him, chocolate for me, like he already knew.

"You're not active today," he said after a while.

"I've been busy surviving my own decisions," I replied, licking the ice cream.

He glanced at me.

"That's not what I mean."

Silence stretched.

Then he added, more carefully.

"Is it because of the marriage?"

I almost laughed.

"People don't stop their lives because of bad news," I said lightly.

Marcus didn't smile.

"That wasn't bad news," he said. "That was a trap."

I looked at him then

"...You're serious."

"I've always been serious," he replied. "You just didn't want to notice."

I shook my head slightly, amused despite everything. "You worry too much."

"I don't think I worry enough," he said quietly.

That made me pause.

Before I could respond, he stepped away to buy another ice cream something absurd like chocolate overload with extra topping and left me standing alone for a moment near the roadside.

And that's when my phone rang.

Gareth Heath.

I answered immediately.

"Don't marry him," his voice came straight through. No greeting. No softness. Just concern.

I frowned. "You're late to the panic party."

"I'm serious, Isla." His tone sharpened. "That man is not right for you."

I exhaled slowly.

"I don't have a choice anymore."

"Yes, you do," Gareth said firmly. "I'll find another investor. Whatever is tying you to him-we cut it."

My grip tightened on the phone.

"You always say that like it's that simple."

"It is," he replied.

I didn't answer immediately.

Because it wasn't simple.

Because the wedding wasn't just a choice anymore it was a countdown.

Four days.

The number sat in my mind like a ticking sound that refused to stop.

I swallowed.

"...It's already in motion,"

I said quietly.

A pause on the other end.

"Then stop it," Gareth said.

But even as he spoke... I could feel it.

Something irreversible had already started moving.