chapter two
1161 Words
Chapter Two
Isla sat on the edge of her bed long after Adrian had gone, his parting words echoing in her mind.
I won’t ask questions. And I won’t expect you to love me.
What had he meant by that? Was he giving her freedom—as long as she played the part of his wife? Did he know about him?
No. That wasn’t possible. If Adrian knew, he wouldn’t have been so calm.
A sharp knock shattered the silence.
“Miss Ravenwood,” a voice called from beyond the door. One of the staff. “Mr. Calloway requests your presence in the study.”
Adrian again.
She smoothed her dress, exhaled slowly, and made her way downstairs.
The study was dim, bathed in warm amber light from a single desk lamp. The scent of aged books and leather lingered in the air. Adrian stood near the window, his silhouette framed against the moonlight, hands tucked into his pockets.
She paused at the threshold. “You wanted to see me?”
He turned. His face gave nothing away. “Yes. Sit.”
She obeyed.
For a moment, silence thickened the space between them. Then he spoke, carefully, coolly.
“I want to clarify the nature of our arrangement.”
Her fingers tightened in her lap. So—here it was.
Adrian took the seat across from her, his gaze unwavering. “We shouldn’t pretend. Not with each other.”
She gave a small nod. “I understand.”
“You may have your own... interests,” he continued, his voice measured, “outside this marriage.”
Her heart seized.
He knew.
She opened her mouth, but he didn’t give her the chance.
“I won’t interfere,” he said smoothly. “But I expect discretion. Our family name must remain untarnished.”
Panic surged in her chest. He was giving her permission. Or was this a test?
“And of course,” he added, “appearances must be maintained.”
She forced her voice steady. “Of course.”
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Isla.”
“I’m not,” she said too quickly.
He tilted his head, skeptical. “Good.”
She wanted to ask what he knew—if he knew. If he had any inkling of the name she whispered in her dreams.
But his expression remained unreadable, and she didn’t dare push.
“Thank you,” she said instead. “For your honesty.”
He nodded, then stood. “The engagement party is tomorrow. Be ready.”
She rose to leave. His voice stopped her just as she reached the door.
“One more thing.”
She turned.
Adrian’s gaze was sharp. “Be careful who you trust.”
A chill spread down her spine.
She nodded and left the study, his warning ringing in her ears.
The hallways stretched before her like a labyrinth. Every step echoed.
He had given her freedom... but why did it feel like a threat?
Isla entered her room and closed the door behind her. She expected Lillian to be there, waiting with questions, but the space was empty.
She sat at the vanity and stared at her reflection. Calm. Composed. But inside?
A storm.
This isn’t a love story, Isla.
It never had been. Her marriage to Adrian was a transaction—power secured through union. She had been raised to understand that. To accept it.
And yet...
Her heart twisted with something she refused to name.
With a quiet sigh, she rose and crossed the room. The air felt stifling.
Outside, the garden stretched in shadow and silver light. Lanterns cast warm halos over hedges and marble paths. She walked slowly, arms wrapped around herself.
Tomorrow, she would become Adrian Calloway’s fiancée.
A beautiful lie, draped in gold.
Footsteps behind her made her turn.
“Out here alone? Risky,” Lillian said, brow arched. “What if someone decided to kidnap you?”
Isla offered a dry smile. “No one would dare cross my father.”
Lillian fell in step beside her. “I waited for you. What did Adrian want?”
“To... define expectations.”
Lillian gave her a look. “And?”
“He said I’m free to live my life. As long as I uphold appearances.”
Lillian stopped in her tracks. “Wait. What?”
Isla turned toward her, voice low. “He practically told me he won’t care what I do—as long as it’s discreet.”
“Does he know?”
“I don’t think so,” Isla whispered. “But he suspects something.”
Lillian drew a sharp breath. “Isla, this is dangerous.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” Lillian gripped her hands. “This isn’t just about you anymore. If Adrian finds out—or worse, if your father finds out—”
“It could destroy everything,” Isla finished.
Lillian nodded. “Exactly.”
“Then I’ll be careful.”
“You’re playing with fire.”
Isla gave a weak smile. “Then I’ll try not to get burned.”
Lillian didn’t smile back.
By the next evening, the estate pulsed with light and music. Laughter echoed off marble walls as the ballroom swelled with the city’s most powerful families.
Isla stood at Adrian’s side in a champagne-colored gown, her features serene. She smiled at the right moments. Laughed when expected. Spoke with elegance.
It was a role she had perfected.
Yet her mind wandered.
She spotted Lillian across the room, engaged in conversation with Elias Ashford—a man as dangerous as he was charming.
Elias had a legacy laced with shadows, a name that carried weight—and warning. Lillian had told Isla to beware of playing with fire, but she wasn’t innocent herself.
Just as Isla wasn’t.
No.
She pushed the thought away and focused on Adrian.
He was speaking with a silver-haired politician, voice even, posture impeccable—but distant.
And then, he turned to her.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
She gave a practiced smile. “Of course.”
He studied her, then leaned in. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
The words startled her.
Before she could respond, a voice interrupted them.
“Adrian.”
They turned.
And Isla’s world tilted.
Cassian Wolfe stood before them, dressed in black, his presence as magnetic as ever.
Their eyes met—and the noise of the room vanished.
Her breath caught.
No. Not here. Not now.
Adrian’s voice cut through the tension. “Cassian.”
Cassian’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “I heard there was a party. Thought I’d stop by.”
His eyes flickered back to Isla.
And suddenly, it didn’t matter what Adrian had said. Freedom meant nothing.
Because now, standing between the Calloway brothers, Isla realized—
She was anything but free.
- Writer
