ISLA'S POV
We didn't leave the gala.
Just as we reached the exit, a man in an expensive suit intercepted Damien.
Cross! I need five minutes to discuss the Singapore deal.
Damien's jaw tightened with irritation. Thompson, this isn't the time
Five minutes. It's urgent.
I watched Damien's internal battle—leave now or handle business. Business won.
Fine. He turned to me. Wait by the bar. Don't talk to anyone. I'll be back shortly.
He disappeared into a private room with Mr. Thompson, leaving me alone in a ballroom full of sharks.
I headed toward the bar like he'd ordered, keeping my head down, hoping to be invisible.
I should have known better.
Isla? A male voice. Familiar. Hateful.
My whole body went rigid.
I turned slowly.
Marcus Wei stood five feet away, looking smug in a designer tuxedo. Sophie clung to his arm, her red dress too tight, her smile too sharp.
My ex-fiancé and my ex-best friend.
Oh my god, it IS you! Sophie's voice carried across the room. People turned to look. Isla Chen! What are you doing at an event like this?
Run, my brain screamed. But my legs wouldn't move.
Marcus stepped closer, his eyes raking over my dress, my jewelry. We heard about your... situation. Living with some man you barely know? How desperate.
Heat flooded my face. Conversations around us stopped. People were listening.
It's not like that, I said quietly.
No? Sophie's laugh was cruel. Then what is it like? Because from where we're standing, it looks like you sold yourself to the highest bidder.
That's none of your business.
Everything about you is our business. Marcus smiled, enjoying my humiliation. After all, we're the ones who dodged a bullet. Imagine if I'd actually married you. I'd be bankrupt right now, tied to your father's disaster.
My hands clenched into fists. You're a coward. You dumped me at our engagement party in front of everyone
Because you were using me! Marcus's voice rose. Pretending to love me when really you just wanted my money to pay off your debts.
That's not true
Please. Sophie rolled her eyes. Everyone knows gold diggers like you. You probably threw yourself at the first rich man who looked at you twice. Tell me, what did you promise him? What did you have to do to get those earrings?
The words hit like slaps.
People were definitely staring now. Whispering. Judging.
If you needed money that badly, Marcus said, his voice dripping with fake sympathy, you should have asked me for a loan. He paused, his smile turning vicious. Oh wait—I don't loan money to poor people. Especially desperate ones who destroyed their own father's company.
I didn't destroy anything
Your father's incompetence destroyed everything, Marcus interrupted. Fifty million in debt? That's not bad luck. That's failure. And you're just like him. A failure pretending to belong somewhere you don't.
Tears burned my eyes. I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of them.
Nothing to say? Sophie taunted. No defense? No witty comeback?
Leave me alone, I whispered.
Why? This is fun. Sophie moved closer, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Look at her, everyone. Isla Chen. The girl who thought she was better than everyone. Now she's just another desperate slut selling herself to
Finish that sentence. Damien's voice cut through the ballroom like a knife. I dare you.
Everyone froze.
Damien appeared at my side, his expression cold enough to freeze fire. His hand settled possessively on my lower back.
Sophie's face went white. I— I didn't mean
Yes, you did. Damien's dark eyes swept over Marcus and Sophie with open disgust. Marcus Wei. Junior analyst at Sterling Finance, pulling in barely six figures. Living in a rented apartment in the cheap district. Driving a leased BMW you can barely afford.
Marcus's smug expression crumbled. How do you
Sophie Zhang. Damien continued like Marcus hadn't spoken. Unemployed social climber living off daddy's money. Three credit cards maxed out. Online shopping addiction you hide from your parents.
Sophie gasped. You can't know that
I know everything about everyone in this room. Damien's voice was casual death. I especially know about people stupid enough to insult what belongs to me.
We weren't— Marcus started.
You called her desperate. A gold digger. A slut. Each word was delivered with surgical precision. You humiliated her publicly. Again.
The ballroom was completely silent now. Everyone watching.
We were just joking Sophie tried.
I don't find it funny. Damien pulled me closer to his side. Here's what's going to happen. You're going to apologize to Isla. Properly. On your knees if necessary.
Marcus's face turned red. I'm not apologizing to
Then Monday morning, I make three phone calls. Damien's smile was terrifying. First call: Sterling Finance. I tell them about the insider trading you've been doing. Small amounts. Easy to miss. But I have proof.
Marcus went pale as death.
Second call: Your father's company, Sophie. The one that's been embezzling from investors. I send the evidence to the SEC. Your whole family goes down.
Sophie started crying. Please
Third call: Every social circle in this city. I tell them what you both really are. Backstabbing parasites who destroyed a good woman because you're too insecure to succeed on your own. Damien's voice dropped dangerously low. By Friday, neither of you will be able to afford ramen. By next month, you'll be lucky to find jobs cleaning toilets.
You can't do this, Marcus whispered.
I already did. The calls are queued on my phone. All I have to do is press send. Damien pulled out his phone, showing them the screen. Should I?
No! Sophie grabbed Marcus's arm. Tell him no!
Marcus looked like he might throw up. We're sorry. We're sorry, okay? We'll leave her alone
Not good enough. Damien gestured to me. Apologize to her. Mean it. Or I press send.
Sophie dropped to her knees first, tears streaming down her face, ruining her makeup. Isla, I'm so sorry. I was horrible to you. Unforgivable. Please, please forgive me.
Marcus stayed standing, his pride fighting his fear.
Damien's thumb hovered over his phone screen. Five seconds, Wei.
Marcus's knees hit the floor. I'm sorry, Isla. For everything. The engagement party, the things I said tonight, all of it. I'm sorry.
They knelt before me—the two people who'd destroyed my life—crying and begging.
I should have felt triumph. Victory. Satisfaction.
Instead, I felt nothing.
Get out of my sight, I said quietly.
They scrambled to their feet and ran from the ballroom, leaving whispers and shocked faces behind.
Damien guided me toward the exit, his hand never leaving my back.
People parted for us like he was royalty.
In the car, silence pressed down like a weight.
Thank you, I finally said. For defending me.
Don't thank me. Damien's voice was flat. Cold. They disrespected my property. That's all.
The words hurt worse than anything Marcus had said.
Property. That's what I was to him.
Not a person he cared about. Just an object he owned.
Right, I whispered. Your property. I forgot.
Don't forget again. His dark eyes found mine. Everything I do is to protect my investment. My reputation. My interests. Not you.
Message received.
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
Back at the penthouse, I went straight to my room without saying goodnight.
My phone was where I'd left it, turned off.
I powered it on, needing something—anything—to distract from the emptiness in my chest.
Twenty-six missed calls from Maya now.
And that message from earlier, still waiting:
I know who you are, Isla Laurent. We need to talk. Meet me tomorrow at noon, Golden Phoenix Café. Come alone. —A friend who knows the truth about Victor Laurent.
A second message had arrived while I was at the gala:
Your mother didn't die in an accident. I have proof. If you want justice, meet me tomorrow. This is your only chance.
My heart stopped.
Proof of my mother's murder.
Justice.
The words I'd been waiting my whole life to hear.
But it could be a trap. Victor Laurent testing me. Sophie setting me up. Anyone trying to destroy me.
I should tell Damien. Ask permission to leave the penthouse.
But he'd made it clear tonight: I was property. An investment. Nothing more.
Why would he care about my dead mother? My need for justice?
He wouldn't.
I made my decision.
Tomorrow at noon, I was breaking Rule #4.
I was leaving without permission.
I was meeting this mysterious stranger.
And if Damien found out?
Then I'd deal with the consequences.
Because some things were worth risking everything for.
Justice for my mother was one of them.
I set an alarm for 10 AM and tried to sleep.
But all I could hear was Damien's cold voice: They disrespected my property.
And all I could feel was the crushing weight of being owned by someone who'd never see me as human.
Five years suddenly felt like forever.