Chained by our past

Chapter 8

Isla Calloway had always thrived in structure.

Every part of her life—her business, her personal time, even her emotions—was meticulously managed. Predictable. Controlled.

But now?

Now, there was nothing predictable about her life.

Lucas Reyes was back.

And worse?

Leo had already started to bond with him.

She stood in the doorway of her penthouse’s spacious living room, watching as Lucas sat cross-legged on the floor, listening intently as Leo babbled excitedly about dinosaurs.

She had seen her son happy before, seen him light up over books, games, and new adventures. But this?

This was different.

Leo was looking at Lucas the way a son looked at his father—with wonder, admiration… trust.

And it terrified her.

Because trust was a dangerous thing.

Lucas wasn’t permanent. He wasn’t a constant.

What happened when he got tired of playing daddy and walked away?

What happened when Leo got attached—only to lose him again?

Isla folded her arms, her nails digging into her palms. This was a mistake.

A voice broke through her thoughts.

"You keep staring at me like that, Calloway, I’m going to start thinking you missed me."

She blinked, snapping back to the present.

Lucas had caught her watching.

Of course he had.

His green eyes—sharp, knowing—locked onto hers.

She straightened. "I was just making sure you weren’t feeding my son any bad ideas."

Lucas smirked. "Bad ideas? You mean like how velociraptors were actually pack hunters and not lone predators?"

Leo gasped, grinning up at Lucas. "See, Mama! That’s what I told you!"

Isla’s lips twitched despite herself.

She sighed, stepping further into the room. "Great. Now there are two of you."

Lucas chuckled, leaning back against the couch. "You should get used to it."

Something in his voice—something deep, unshakable—made her chest tighten.

Lucas wasn’t just here to visit.

He was staking his claim.

And Isla wasn’t sure how to stop it.

After Leo finally went to bed, Isla and Lucas stood in the kitchen, the silence between them thick and heavy.

Lucas leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Leo had fun today."

She nodded. "He did."

Lucas tilted his head slightly. "You sound… surprised."

Isla exhaled, crossing her arms. "I just didn’t expect him to take to you so quickly."

Lucas studied her, his expression unreadable.

"You thought he wouldn’t like me?"

"No." She hesitated. "I thought… I thought he’d need time."

Lucas took a slow step toward her.

"And what about you?" His voice was quiet, but it held weight. "Do you need time?"

Her breath hitched.

For a second—just a second—the air between them shifted.

It was the way Lucas looked at her, the way his gaze traced over her face, lingering on her lips before snapping back to her eyes.

Like he could still remember how she tasted.

Like he still wanted her.

Her pulse spiked.

She swallowed hard, breaking eye contact. "This isn’t about me."

Lucas’s smirk was slow, knowing. "Isn’t it?"

Isla’s fingers curled into fists.

This was dangerous territory.

She turned, walking toward the sink, needing distance. "We need to set clear boundaries, Lucas."

Lucas’s smirk vanished. "I agree."

Isla faced him again, keeping her tone firm, detached. "Leo comes first. Always. This isn’t about us—"

"There is no 'us,' Calloway," Lucas cut in, his voice like steel. "There never was."

A sharp, unexpected pang shot through her chest.

Good.

She needed him to say it. To remind her.

This wasn’t a romance.

This wasn’t love.

This was just a mistake they were cleaning up.

She nodded stiffly. "Then let’s keep it that way."

Lucas’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t argue.

For a moment, the silence stretched again.

Then, finally, Lucas pushed off the counter. "I should go."

Isla nodded, stepping aside as he walked past her.

But before he reached the door, she spoke again.

"Lucas."

He paused, turning slightly.

She swallowed. "Leo… he really likes you."

Something flickered across his face.

Something real.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I like him too."

And then, just like that, he was gone.

And Isla?

She was left wondering why it hurt to watch him leave.