LOGINISABELLA’S POV
Six Years Later New York City hadn't changed much, it welcomed me with noise and the mingled scent of food and exhaustion. It still looked and felt the same. The same way it was when it swallowed me whole and spat me out with my life in shambles. This city had broken me once, I wouldn't let it happen again. I closed my eyes for a moment. Albert had died. The man who made my life a nightmare was gone. Yet his absence didn’t mean freedom. It only meant the family and the company was still a battlefield. I hadn't come back to heal or think on the past I had come back to reclaim what was taken from me. I had six years to rebuild, and now I was ready to reclaim what was mine. I put my sunglasses on, and walked straight to the car that was prepared for me. Inside the car, my strategist, Lucia Collins sat waiting for me. She glanced at me, eyes steady. “Bella,” she said, “I’ve prepared everything for you.” She handed me a tablet. “That is a list of Claire Moretti department stores in the city.” She said in a calm voice. I knew what it meant. When Lucia sounded calm, the situation was already dangerous. I scrolled through the tablet. “Why are most of them in red ink?” I asked with a frown. “Those are the ones that haven’t been doing well, little to zero profit in the past year.” “That’s more than half of them,” I gasped. If it continues that way, they will all be gone by next year.” “Yes, that’s true.” I sighed heavily. “How come no one has noticed or done anything about it?” The foundation my mother built was in shambles, and no one seemed to be doing anything to stop it. No one cared. “Also, there's a shareholders meeting scheduled for an hour to discuss the transfer of ownership of the New York flagship store.” Lucia said. “If the board approves, it will be controlled by someone else entirely. Once that happens,” Lucia added quietly, “you lose leverage. Permanently.” My stomach tightened. Losing the flagship would be like losing the heart of my mother’s legacy. I couldn’t let that happen. I turned to the driver. “Head to Moretti Luxe Group” “Yes ma'am” I stared out the window, watching skyscrapers flash past, the familiar streets reminded me of what I had lost. I stared at my reflection in the window. I smiled at the woman who stared back at me. A global fashion icon and founder of an international brand. Every fashion magazine and blog had my brand name on it. I was no longer the broken and helpless girl who had cowered out of the city after losing everything. Now I was untouchable and ready to face the ghosts of my past. Lucia continued working on her tablet, then suddenly she froze “There's something you should know,”Lucia said carefully. I turned to her. “What?” She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “The largest shareholder in Moretti Luxe Group is…Ethan Dexter.” Everything went still. I stared at her, my ears ringing. My chest tightened. I had not expected this. Of all people, it had to be him. The man who ruined everything. “Ethan Dexter holds the largest share in Moretti Luxe Group,” Lucia continued. “That means he has significant control over the company.” I scoffed but my chest burned. “So my mother’s company has been failing under his watch.” “We can’t afford to do anything rash, Bella. We need him on our side.” “No,” I snapped, clenching my fists until my fingers hurt. “I do not need him.” I said more to myself than to Lucia The rest of the drive was silent. My mind kept racing. Ethan Dexter. The man who destroyed my life was now standing between me and my mother’s legacy. The car rolled to a stop in front of a familiar building. Moretti Luxe Group. My mother's company. I stepped out of the car, adjusted my clothes, and lifted my chin. Lucia walked beside me. All eyes turned to me the moment I stepped into the lobby, conversations quieted and slowly the room filled with whispers. “Is that Isabella Moretti?” “I thought she left the country.” “She owns a fashion empire now.” I ignored them all and kept walking. I headed straight to the reception. “I’m here for the shareholders meeting,” I said The receptionist looked up, startled. “Name?” “Isabella Moretti.” She froze. “One moment, please.” Before she could place a call, the elevator door opened. A man stepped out. Samuel Moretti, my half brother, walked towards me. “Hello, little sister,” he said with a half smile. Samuel’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Father may be gone,” he said quietly, “but don’t think that means you can just waltz back in.” I lifted my chin, steadying myself. “Hello, Samuel,” I replied calmly. “I'm here for the shareholders meeting” “The meeting wasn’t scheduled with you in mind.” “Yet here I am.” He gestured to the elevator. “Shall we?” The ride up was silent. I walked into the conference room. Conversation stopped the moment I walked in. I took an empty seat without asking. “Let’s begin,” Samuel said, clearing his throat. “I’d like to be included,” I said calmly. A few heads turned towards me. “And why’s that?” someone asked. “I’ll be brief,” I said calmly. “I’m here because this company belongs to my mother and by extension, to me.” I crossed my legs. “And I’m not going to sit idle and watch it be mismanaged anymore.” Samuel leaned forward and whispered, “You signed away your rights years ago.” I tilted my head slightly. “Did I?” His eyes narrowed, and he blinked, confused. “This isn’t a plea,” I said. “It’s a warning. I’m not here to beg for my place back.” Samuel scoffed, he hadn’t expected me to challenge him so calmly. The door opened, and everybody turned towards it. The man who walked in didn’t need any introductions. Ethan Dexter. He looked exactly as I remembered. His eyes swept through the room and stopped when they landed on mine. And for the first time in six years, we stared at each other face to face.ISABELLA’S POV The call came just after ten.I was reviewing production schedules for ISMARA's autumn collection when my phone lit up.Kane Rourke.I stared at the screen before answering."Good morning, Kane.""Isabella."His voice was calm and confident."Do you have a minute?""I can make one.""I have an idea."That immediately made me cautious."What kind?""The kind that benefits both of us."I leaned back in my chair."I'm listening.""The partnership announcement performed better than expected."That much was true.The collaboration between ISMARA and Rourke Industries had generated strong interest from investors, retailers, and the fashion press."I think we should capitalize on that momentum," he continued."How?""A joint press appearance."There it was.I stayed silent."A sit-down interview," Kane said. "Business focused. We discuss the partnership, expansion plans, and the future of both brands."The benefits were obvious.A public appearance would strengthen ISMARA's p
ETHAN'S POV I woke up before her, and for a moment I didn't move. I lay still and watched her breathing steadily beside me. Sometime in the last hours she'd come back to the bed. I had not expected this.I'd gone to sleep last night with words I couldn't take back, and I had genuinely not known what the morning would look like. Whether she'd already be awake and dressed by the time I opened my eyes. Whether the careful arrangement would already be back in place, repaired overnight, as if nothing had changed.She was still here.I got up carefully, showered, dressed, and went to the kitchen.I made coffee. Two cups, the way it had become automatic. I didn't think too much of it. It was simply what happened in this kitchen in the mornings now.I didn't plan what I'd say when she came out. I considered several options and discarded all of them. Anything that referenced last night directly felt like exactly the kind of pressure I'd told myself I wouldn't apply. In the end I decid
ISABELLA’S POV I heard him. Every word, delivered to the ceiling in that quiet and careful voice. This stopped being a contract a long time ago. For me.I lay still and I heard it and I did not answer.My breath caught before I could stop it. Just barely, just for a moment, but I felt him notice. I didn't answer because I had too many responses and none of them were ready. Because the ones that were honest were also reckless, and the ones that were safe were also lies, and I had made a decision years ago not to say things I didn't mean in rooms that mattered. This room mattered. What he'd said mattered. Which left me with nothing I was prepared to give him yet.So I said nothing.And then he said, you don't have to say anything, in that quiet voice, and I understood that he meant it, that he wasn't performing patience or waiting for me to feel guilty enough to fill the silence. He genuinely meant it. I lay there after his breathing eventually evened toward sleep. I thought about
ETHAN’S POV She reached for me first. We didn't talk. Not at first. Not for a long time after.I understood what that cost her. I was not going to waste it by saying too much too soon. I'd learned, at significant cost, that the correct response to something fragile was not to immediately close your hand around it.Later, in the dark, I looked at the ceiling and listened to her breathe beside me and felt the specific weight of the silence in the room. Not empty. Not comfortable exactly. Something in between, the kind of silence that has too much in it to be nothing.I thought about not saying it.I was good at not saying things. I'd built an entire architecture around knowing what not to say and when not to say it. Caleb had once told me my greatest professional skill was the ability to hold information without showing the pressure of holding it.I said it anyway."This stopped being a contract a long time ago." My voice was quiet. "For me."I said it to the ceiling. Not quite to he
ISABELLA’S POVI stood up to pour the tea. I poured water into both mugs because they were there. It was something to do. A practical motion that gave me somewhere to put my hands and a reason to move and a few seconds of not looking directly at him while I found the steadiness I needed.I poured his cup first. Carried it around the island toward him because he was still leaning against the counter and the island was between us and it was easier to bring the cup to him than to slide it across and watch it stop halfway.That was the reason I told myself.I set the cup on the counter beside him and started to step back and his hand was there, not grabbing, not pulling, just resting against my wrist. The lightest possible contact. A question more than a statement.I looked down at his hand on my wrist, then I looked up at his face.He was very still. Waiting, the way he'd been waiting all evening, all week, possibly longer than that. Not pushing. Not asking. Just present, with that ope
ISABELLA’S POV Ethan remained quiet like he was through dinner. Through Brahms's bath. Through the bedtime negotiation. He'd been present and functional and entirely contained and I'd felt it all evening. I closed my laptop when I heard him fill the kettle.I could have stayed in the living room. There was no reason to move to the kitchen. I went anyway, because waiting for something that was already in motion was worse than meeting it.He was standing at the counter. He'd made tea, or started to. The kettle was on and he was looking at it with the focus of someone thinking about something that had nothing to do with tea.I sat at the island.We stayed like that for a moment. The kettle began its low sound."You don't have to work up to it," I said.He looked at me. Then he turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed, and I recognized the posture. It was the one he used when he'd decided to be honest about something and was making sure he was steady enough to do it without l
ISABELLA’S POV The statement went live at 8:03 AM.By 8:05, my phone started vibrating.Press requests. Investor inquiries. Media alerts. Messages from the board.I stood in the dressing room of the penthouse, staring at my reflection while Lucia monitored the response from her tablet.“Read it ag
ETHAN’S POV The office felt different after three weeks away.The things that had mattered before Paris seemed trivial now.My assistant was already at her desk. She stood when she saw me."Mr. Dexter. Welcome back. I have your schedule ready. And there are several messages that need your attentio
ETHAN’S POV I called Caleb that afternoon.Because he was the only person I knew who could separate emotion from consequence without losing sight of either.He picked up on the first ring.“You sound tired,” he said.“I am tired.”“How tired?”I looked down at myself, standing in the upstairs hall
ISABELLA’S POV I barely slept.Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Lucia's voice again.Focus on Brahms.Focus on ISMARA.Focus on Moretti.Do not confuse gratitude with trust. Do not confuse guilt with love.By morning, the words had settled somewhere deep enough to feel heavy.I stood in the ki







