Isla's POV
The gasps hit me like a physical wave.
Two hundred voices inhaling at once. Two hundred pairs of eyes locking onto me. Standing frozen at the top of the stairs in my silver gown, watching my fiancé destroy me in front of everyone who matters in New York.
I'm in love with Natalie Thornton, Derek says into the microphone, his voice carrying to every corner of the ballroom. We've been fighting our feelings for months, trying to do the right thing. But love won't be denied.
Natalie sobs into his shoulder—loud, dramatic sobs that echo through the sudden silence. I never wanted to hurt you, Isla! We tried so hard to stay away from each other!
Lies. All lies.
My legs move before my brain catches up. I stumble down the grand staircase, gripping the railing because the room won't stop spinning. Whispers follow me like ghosts.
Oh my God, the poor girl.
Did you know about this?
I heard rumors but thought
How humiliating.
I push through the crowd. People step back like I'm contagious. Like heartbreak might rub off on their perfect lives.
Derek lowers the microphone as I approach. He doesn't look sorry. Doesn't look guilty. He looks relieved, like he just set down something heavy.
You couldn't wait? My voice shakes. You couldn't tell me privately? You had to humiliate me in front of everyone?
I didn't plan it this way, Derek says, but his eyes are cold. You were late. We were talking, and I realized I couldn't pretend anymore. These people deserve the truth.
The truth? I laugh, and it sounds slightly hysterical. The truth is you've been sleeping with my stepsister for six months while planning our wedding!
More gasps. The whispers get louder.
Natalie's tears increase. Isla, please! I know you're upset, but making a scene won't change anything!
I'm making a scene? My voice rises. You slept with my fiancé and I'M making a scene?
Isla. My father's voice cuts through the noise like a knife.
I spin around. Edward Thornton stands three feet away in his thousand-dollar suit, his face hard as granite. For one desperate second, I think he's going to defend me. Tell Derek to get out. Throw Natalie out of the family.
He's my father. He has to protect me.
Dad, I whisper. Did you know about this?
His jaw tightens. We'll discuss this privately.
Did. You. Know?
The silence stretches. Everyone's watching. Waiting.
I suspected, he finally says. But these matters are complicated, Isla. The Hamilton family has been very generous to Thornton Media. Whatever happens between you and Derek personally, we need to handle this with maturity and grace.
The words hit me like a slap.
He knew. My father knew Derek was cheating, and he didn't tell me. Because business matters more than I do.
Maturity and grace? I repeat, my voice breaking. He just humiliated me in front of two hundred people!
And you're making it worse by being hysterical, Victoria interjects, appearing at my father's elbow like a vulture. Her smile is razor-sharp. Darling, these things happen. Derek and Natalie fell in love. It's tragic, but it's nobody's fault.
Nobody's fault? I stare at my stepmother, at her perfectly styled hair and her designer dress bought with Thornton money. She's your daughter! How can you
Natalie is young and in love, Victoria says smoothly. You can't help who you fall for, can you? Perhaps if you'd paid more attention to Derek instead of working all those late hours, this wouldn't have happened.
She's blaming me. They're all blaming me.
I look around the ballroom. At the senators and CEOs and celebrities, all watching me like I'm tonight's entertainment. At Maya, pushing through the crowd trying to reach me. At Derek and Natalie, still holding each other like tragic star-crossed lovers.
At my father, who chose money over his own daughter.
Isla, sweetheart. My father's voice drops lower, meant only for me. I know you're hurt. But Derek's family controls half the advertising revenue for Thornton Media. If you make this ugly, if you cause problems, it could cost us millions. Do you understand?
I understand perfectly.
I'm not his daughter right now. I'm a business liability.
So what do you want me to do? I ask quietly. Smile and congratulate them?
I want you to go upstairs, calm down, and let the adults handle this situation.
Let the adults handle it. Like I'm a child throwing a tantrum instead of a woman whose entire life just exploded.
Something inside me breaks. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just a quiet snap, like a thread pulled too tight.
You're right, I say. I should go.
Relief crosses my father's face. Good. We'll talk tomorrow when you're more rational.
I turn away from him. From all of them. The crowd parts as I walk toward the exit, my silver heels clicking on marble. Behind me, the whispers rise like a swarm of locusts.
She's taking it well.
I'd be screaming.
Did you see her father? Ice cold.
The Thorntons always choose business first.
I make it to the coat room. My hands shake so badly I can barely grab my coat from the rack. Rain pounds against the windows, when did it start raining?
Isla, wait! Maya's voice. She appears in the doorway, breathless. Don't leave like this. Stay at my place tonight. We'll order takeout and burn photos of Derek's face and
I need to be alone. My voice sounds hollow, like it's coming from somewhere far away.
No, you really don't. Come on, let me drive you
Maya. I turn to face my best friend. Please. I just... I need to be alone right now.
Her face crumples with worry, but she nods. Okay. But call me if you need anything. Anything at all. I mean it.
I hug her quickly, then push through the front doors into the freezing February night.
Rain pours down instantly, soaking through my designer gown within seconds. I don't care. The cold feels good. Feels real. Feels like something other than the numbness spreading through my chest.
The circular driveway is full of town cars and limos waiting for guests. Drivers huddle under umbrellas, smoking cigarettes.
I start walking. No destination. Just away. Away from the mansion, away from the party, away from everyone who just chose money and reputation over me.
My phone buzzes constantly. Texts flooding in.
Maya: Please let me know you got home safe
Unknown number: OMG is it true about Derek and Natalie?
Another unknown: Girl I'm so sorry, call me if you need to talk
I silence it. Shove it in my coat pocket.
The rain comes down harder. My hair plasters to my face. My makeup runs. The silver gown clings to my skin, heavy and cold.
I don't know how long I walk. Could be twenty minutes. Could be an hour. Time feels broken.
Finally, I stop under a streetlight at the edge of the property. My whole body shakes—from cold or shock or both.
Behind me, the mansion still glows. The party continues. Music drifts on the wind. They're probably dancing now. Celebrating. Derek and Natalie at the center, playing their tragic love story for all it's worth.
And my father, making business deals. Smoothing things over. Choosing the Hamilton family's advertising money over his own daughter's broken heart.
My phone buzzes again. I pull it out, ready to turn it off completely.
But this text makes my blood run cold.
Unknown number: I'm sorry about tonight. You deserved better.
I stare at the screen. Who is this?
Three dots appear. Someone's typing.
Another message appears: Your father will pay for what he's done. And when he does, you'll understand why this had to happen.
My heart pounds. What?
A third message: Everything that happened tonight—Derek, Natalie, your father's choice—it was all necessary. You needed to see who they really are.
My hands shake so badly I almost drop the phone.
Who is this?
The response comes immediately: Someone who's been waiting a very long time for the Thornton family to destroy itself from the inside. Tonight was just the beginning, Isla. The real pain hasn't even started yet.
Lightning cracks across the sky. Thunder follows.
I spin around, scanning the darkness. Is someone watching me? How do they know what happened? How do they know my name?
One final message appears: Go home. Get some sleep. In six months, when you have nothing left, I'll find you. And then, Isla Thornton, your real nightmare begins.
The phone goes dead in my hands. Completely black. Like someone just cut the power remotely.
I'm alone in the rain, soaking wet, heartbroken, with a stranger's threat burning in my mind.
And somehow I know, with absolute certainty—that my life will never be the same again.