CHAPTER 7: SHADOWS AND LOYALTIES

 The instant Isla stepped back into her father's estate, she knew it.

The shift in the air.

The way that the staff looked at her. The long silence that spread after she stepped into the grand foyer 

He knows something.

She willed herself to walk normally, to pretend the world hadn't just rearranged itself as she entered into a deal with the man who'd been about to ruin Richard Lancaster.

As she headed toward the study, the knot in her stomach tightened.

Her father's empire had been founded on control. 

And right now, control was slipping.

She rapped once and entered the room.

Richard Lancaster looked up from behind his massive oak desk, his expression inscrutable. A glass of whiskey sat by his fingertips, untasted. 

The screens behind him — normally covered in charts of market trends and financial reports — were dark.

A bad sign.

"Where have you been?"

Straight to the point.

Isla held his stare, maintaining a neutral expression. 

"Out."

Richard leaned back in his chair and studied her. 

"And yet, I had men watching all the entrances of that gala. You disappeared."

Her heart picked up, but she didn't shy away. 

"I needed air."

There was silence — thick, suffocating silence between them.

Then Richard's mouth twisted into something like a smile. 

"Tell me, Isla… are you loyal to this family?"

A test.

A trap.

Isla locked his gaze, willing herself to breathe evenly. 

"You raised me to be."

Richard tapped one finger on the desk, as if to gauge her answer. 

Then, after a beat, he leaned in.

"There's going to be a war," he said quietly. 

"One that will ruin anyone who gets in my path."

Isla's nails dug into her palms. 

"And Damien Cross?"

Something sharp flashed in her father's eyes.

"He underestimates who he's dealing with." 

Richard's voice was all steel now. "But he will."

Isla made herself nod like she was in agreement. 

As though she wasn't right across the battlefield from her.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that he knew.

That he was already planning his next step.

And if she didn't watch out…she would be the first on his hit list.

***

 Damien Cross wasn't a man who liked to wait.

But tonight, he broke that rule.

From the stone floor of his penthouse balcony, he trained high-powered binoculars on the Lancaster estate, digitally mapping each movement across the glass windows.

She was in there.

Playing her role. Deceiving a man who had forged an empire on recognizing weakness.

He gripped the glass in his hand tighter. Careful, Isla.

His jaw didn't unclench until he saw her shape appear near one of the windows.

Still standing. Still fighting.

Good.

He picked up his phone to send one message.

Time to strike.

Tonight had been the warning shot of Richard Lancaster.

Tomorrow?

The war truly began.

***

 As Isla walked out of her father's study, she exhaled the breath she had been holding.

That was too close.

Her father was becoming increasingly suspicious, and the most terrifying part? He wasn't wrong.

She had been playing the part of a perfect daughter her whole life — the obedient heiress to his empire. But this time, she wasn't sure which side she stood on.

Damien had made his move.

And despite everything she had learned, she wanted to know how it would turn out.

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

She looked down, heart racing.

A message from Damien.

Meet me. Now.

She sucked in breath and looked again at the door to her father's study.

Then she spun on her heel, striding from the house, into the night.

With no idea that she was under surveillance.

***

 Stepping out of the Lancaster estate, the night air was bracing against Isla's skin. The memory of her father's words sat on her chest, heavy, crushing.

She knew she was walking a razor's edge — balancing on the road between the world she had always known and the one that Damien Cross was pulling her into.

The headlights of a shiny black car shone down the driveway. An unfamiliar driver emerged and opened the door for her.

"Mr. Cross is waiting," he said evenly.

Isla waited only a moment before getting into the backseat.

The door closed behind her, sealing her in blackness. The air was thick with the smell of leather and expensive cologne.

She wasn't alone.

Damien was already there, sitting next to her.

She swiveled to him, pulse yet thrumming. 

"This is reckless."

His lips curved slightly. "And yet, you're here."

She breathed out hard, leaning back against the seat. 

"What's so urgent you couldn't wait?"

In the low light, Damien's expression was inscrutable.

 "Your dad already has his move."

A chill ran down her spine.

"He's retaliating?"

Damien nodded, taking out his phone. He swiveled the screen toward her. 

"This leaked an hour ago."

Her stomach dropped.

It was an article.

LANCASTER HEIRESS COLLABORATING IN HUSH, HUSH DEALINGS WITH CROSS ENTERPRISES—A BETRAYAL IN THE WORKS?

A blurry, grainy photo of her outside Cross Enterprises earlier that night ran with the headline.

Blood drained from her face. "This—this is fabricated."

Damien tilted his head. "Is it?"

She shot him a glare. "You think I wanted to get caught walking into your office?"

"No," he acknowledged with a careful eye on her. 

"But somebody made sure that this got out."

Her thoughts raced. Only a few people could have had access to this kind of information.

And what if her father had seen it…

He knows.

She swallowed hard. "What do we do?"

"We?" Damien echoed, smirking. 

"I thought you were staying neutral."

Isla clenched her fists. 

"If my father believes I've betrayed him, then whatever side I'm on doesn't matter. I'm already the enemy."

Damien scrutinized her for a long moment, then leaned in.

"Then it's time to make it authentic."

Her breath hitched. "What does that mean?"

He drummed his fingers on his knee. "It means you cease pretending. You stop playing both sides."

Isla's heart pounded.

"I have to know where you are on this, Isla." His voice was low, dangerous. 

"With me? Or against me?"

Silence enveloped the car, stretching between them like a blade.

Isla had spent her whole life fighting for her father's approval, defending the family name, being on the right side of power.

But now?

She didn't really know if that was the right side anymore.

And she didn't know if she cared.

Slowly, she lifted her chin.

"I'm with you."

Damien's smirk widened. "Good."

Then, before she could talk herself out of it, he opened the car door.

"Let's go start a war."