His Enemy, My Husband

Chapter 14: Shadows and Storms

It was a Wednesday morning, and Isla was busy flipping through the latest sales reports in her boutique.

All her focus was on the paper in her hand as she murmured something to herself, noting some patterns in the data, while also pausing to take a sip from the coffee beside her.

“Ding!”

That was the next sound she heard coming from the front door,

“Very usual”

A new customer, she reasoned with her face still on the paper

“Welcome to….”

She mouthed halfway and immediately stopped again.

“Something was off”

Something about the silence that followed after the chime.

No new voice, no cheerful greeting, neither was there any of the typical footfalls of an uncertain shopper.

Instead, what came next was the sound of heels against the floor, followed by the slow, exaggerated clearing of somebody's throat. The sound was smug, wrapped with a pretentious politeness.

Isla hurriedly lifted her gaze. The sight of her ex-friend, Vanessa, made Isla stiffen in her seat.

The moment their eyes met, Vanessa's face dissolved into a wicked smirk. With the same smirk, her gaze started to sweep over the boutique intentionally, as if observing something beneath her.

“Nice place,” she mused in that same tone.

“I see how being Mrs. Blackwood comes with its perks.”

Isla didn’t react nor even spare her a blink. All she kept doing was looking straight at Vanessa, holding her gaze, her expression bearing quiet defiance.

She knew Vanessa was waiting for some sign of distress, some hint of insecurity. But Isla had no intention of giving her that satisfaction.

Vanessa, sensing the lack of response decided to trigger her even further.

She now moved further into the boutique with that malicious gait, fingertips skimming the fabric of some of the designer gowns as though she owned them.

“Do you think this will last?” she asked with a voice thick with mockery and fake curiosity.

“This business? This uh… fake marriage?”

Isla could not help but blink this time, although it was just once, she still did her best not to fall for the provocation. When she spoke, her tone still managed to be effortlessly cool.

“I think you should worry more about your own marriage, Vanessa.”

And as soon as Isla said that, the smug look on Vanessa's face vanished. The rude reminder was like the sting of a scorpion.

A sharp glare replaced Vanessa's smirk.

“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” she hissed, stepping closer. Her voice dropped as she continued.

“You’re nothing but just Damien’s latest accessory.”

Isla shook her head slightly, parting her lips to respond, but before she could push the words out, a voice from the door suddenly interrupted,

“Funny how I was just thinking the same about you.”

The heads of both women turned sharply toward the direction of the voice.

And standing there was the petite body with the kind face Isla had seen days ago at the Blackwood estate.

It was Damien's sister Clarissa Blackwood.

A knowing smile stretched her lips as she stepped further into the boutique, taking a stand beside Isla with an air of casual authority.

Vanessa’s expression rumpled, her confidence shaking. It was obvious she hadn’t expected this. Hadn't prepared for it.

Clarissa let the silence stretch for a second longer before tilting her head slightly to ask,

“I assume you’re not here to shop?”

Vanessa inhaled sharply, trying to mask the slight tremor in her breath which now threatened to betray her.

Clarissa smiled as she too noticed it,

“I wonder how the media would react to knowing you’re harassing my brother’s wife in public?”

Vanessa went ice cold, her eyes shifting between the two women as the implications started to sink.

With the damage currently on the ground, another scandal on Isla would be a disaster.

Where would she find the shame to face it? What would they call her this time?

Vanessa took a step back.

Clarissa, reading the resignation in Vanessa’s stance, smirked harder.

“I thought so too,”

Then, in a tone laced with finality, she added, “You should leave before I have security escort you out.”

Vanessa’s nostrils flared as she let out a hot breath. Her gaze remained on Isla, burning with silent meaning before she turned around and stormed out in a staccato of anger and humiliation.

A brief silence followed after the door locked, Isla exhaled slowly, pressing a hand against her temple before turning to Clarissa, the surprise still evident in her wide eyes.

“Oh my God, Claris… You didn’t have to do that.”

Clarissa shrugged before Isla could even finish.

“I like you, Isla. And in this family, we protect our own.”

Isla blinked, momentarily thrown off. Protect our own? Me, Isla, Your own?

Of all the responses she had expected, this particular one hit her quite strongly, invoking clear memories of her very first visit to the Blackwood’s estate days ago.

That moment after the introduction, right after Damien was done with introducing her to the supposed “closest people in his life”

She still remembered the quiet hostility that had left her feeling weird.

The worst part was that it wasn't just to her but to Damien too. The muted judgments, the scrutiny.

Clarissa and perhaps the Alex guy had been the only ones to show a little warmth, but Isla had dismissed it as mere politeness, an unserious display of civility rather than true acceptance.

But now, standing here, watching how Clarissa had just openly defended her against Vanessa, of all people when she didn’t even have to, Isla felt something spreading inside her.

A realization was settling deep in her bones.

And for the first time, she didn't feel like she wasn’t fighting alone.

About a minute or two later when the the hum of Vanessa’s car started to fade outside the store, Isla felt something stirring beneath the surface.

And no, it wasn't victory neither was it even relief.

Rather, it was the feeling of a storm retreating, only to gather strength beyond the horizon.

It was deep sitting unease. “What the hell do I make of this?”