Entwined Destiny: the CEO's desire

The bond

"Bella, open up before I freeze to death out here."

Grace's muffled voice rattled through the door, accompanied by a soft knock.

Isabella stumbled from the sofa, brushing papers off her lap. She unlocked the door, blinking at her friend's wind-flushed cheeks. "You're back early."

Grace slipped inside, dragging her overnight bag across the floor. "Early? It's practically morning. The streets are already smelling like bread. Which, by the way, is cruel when all I've eaten is vending-machine chips." She flopped onto the sofa with a groan. "Please tell me you at least boiled water for tea."

"I was working," Isabella said, stacking her papers quickly. "I didn't think...."

"Of course you were." Grace kicked off her shoes and eyed the table piled with notes. "Let me guess. Still polishing your pitch for Cole Enterprises. You know, the meeting that doesn't even exist yet?"

Isabella tried for a light tone. "Preparation is important."

Grace smirked. "Preparation is one thing. Sleeping in your clothes is another. You're not fooling anyone, Bella. You haven't closed your eyes since I left yesterday."

"Maybe a nap," Isabella admitted, rubbing her forehead.

Grace sat up straighter, pointing an accusing finger. "You're impossible. If ambition were a drug, you'd be an addict. Sit down before I tie you to that chair."

Isabella laughed, easing into the armchair across from her. "You're dramatic."

"Me? No. I'm just honest. " Grace leaned back, pulling her legs onto the sofa. "All right, I've earned gossip. Work comes later, tell me, is there someone? Because babe, you're glowing these days ."

"There's nothing to tell about love," Isabella said immediately.

Grace's eyebrows shot up. "So quick with the denial. That makes me suspicious."

"There's really nothing," Isabella said firmly, smoothing the corner of a file. "Work takes all my time. I don't want distractions."

"Distractions?" Grace groaned. "You make it sound like dating is a bad investment. Newsflash: Not every man is a liability."

"Maybe not," Isabella said, her lips twitching. "But right now, I can't afford risk. Not when I'm this close."

"Close to what?" Grace demanded. "Burnout? Because if that's the goal, you're winning."

Isabella shook her head, chuckling despite herself. "You always exaggerate."

"And you always avoid the question." Grace narrowed her eyes. "Fine. If you won't talk about men, talk about the one man that matters, Derek Cole. What's your first impression?"

"I haven't even met him yet."

"Exactly." Grace grinned. "So? What's the picture in your head?"

Isabella leaned back, considering. "Precise and unforgiving. Everyone I've asked says he notices everything and wastes no words. I can't walk into a room with him unprepared."

Grace softened. "You're already prepared, Bella. You don't have to prove your worth to the whole world every second."

Isabella didn't answer. Her fingers traced the edge of her notebook.

"Okay," Grace said, breaking the pause. "My turn. Well... love is still nonexistent on my side. Work life is still paying bills, but babe, I wish I could meet someone soon. And I almost quit last night."

Isabella's eyes snapped to her. "What happened?"

"Nothing new," Grace said with a shrug. "Long shifts, rude patients, supervisors who think yelling is a management style. I wanted to walk out. But then I thought about us. About St. Agnes. And about how far we've come."

Her voice gentled. "We were kids hiding under staircases, Bella. Scared to sleep because the older ones would steal our bread. Remember that?"

Isabella's throat tightened. She nodded. "I remember."

"And look at us now." Grace spread her arms, taking in the cosy apartment. "We pay rent on time. We keep food in the fridge. You're on the verge of the biggest deal of your career. We're not those girls anymore."

Isabella smiled faintly. "Sometimes it feels like a dream."

"It's not," Grace said firmly. "You're stronger. You carried us out of there, Bella. Don't forget it."

For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the hum of the refrigerator and the faint scent of bread from downstairs.

Isabella finally spoke. "Do you ever think about what would've happened if we hadn't run?"

"All the time," Grace admitted. "And then I remember we survived because we did. No one handed us this life. We clawed for it. So don't sit there acting like you don't deserve more than work."

Isabella gave a soft laugh. "Always lecturing me."

"Because you need it." Grace stood, yawning. "Now I need a shower before I turn into a zombie. And you....." she pointed at Isabella again."You need to actually sleep. Promise me."

"I promise," Isabella said, though the files on the table still tugged at her.

Grace leaned down, kissed her cheek, and whispered, "You deserve love, Bella. Not just contracts and numbers. Real love."

Isabella's smile faltered, her gaze drifting to the stacked papers. "We'll see."

"Not, we'll see.' We will." Grace's grin returned as she disappeared toward the bathroom. "One day, you'll thank me for saying that."

Left alone, Isabella folded her arms around herself. The apartment was warm and safe. It was so different from the cold corridors of St. Agnes. She closed her eyes, just for a moment, and let the comfort of their hard-won stability sink in.