Unwelcome Shadows

Chapter 3: Unwelcome Shadows

Isla stepped out of Damien's office, her heart pounding in her chest. The conversation still echoed in her mind—Victoria Hale. The name alone sent a shiver through her.

Who was this woman? And why did she want to control Damien so badly that she would fake a marriage to a stranger?

The elevator doors slid shut, and as the car descended, Isla tried to focus, but her thoughts wouldn't settle. No matter how much she wanted to walk away, there was no escaping the truth—she was caught in something much bigger than she'd imagined.

When the elevator reached the lobby, she stepped out quickly, eager to leave the cold, polished world of Calloway Industries behind. But as she crossed the marble floor, something made her pause.

A man stood near the exit.

His back was to her, but she recognized him immediately. Julian.

Her breath caught. What was he doing here?

Before she could decide whether to approach him, he turned—and their eyes locked. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. His handsome face, once so familiar and comforting, was tight with confusion and something else… pain.

"Isla?" Julian's voice was low, rough with disbelief.

She swallowed the knot rising in her throat and forced herself to speak. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He took a step closer, his sharp blue eyes scanning her face. "Why are you coming out of Damien Calloway's building?"

Isla's pulse quickened. She had no idea how to explain any of this. "It's… complicated," she said quietly.

Julian's jaw tightened. "Try me."

She hesitated, torn between telling him the truth and protecting herself. But Julian had always been patient—always the one who deserved honesty.

"I woke up married to him," she admitted, the words tasting bitter.

For a moment, Julian just stared at her, as if she'd spoken in another language. "What?"

"I don't know how it happened," she continued, her voice shaking slightly. "I don't remember. But it's real, Julian. And… I can't explain it."

His face darkened with anger. "You're telling me you married a man like him—and you don't even remember how?"

"I didn't choose this!" The frustration bubbled to the surface before she could stop it. "I don't know why it happened, but I'm trying to figure it out."

Julian shook his head slowly, his disbelief clear. "Isla… we were supposed to get married. What about us?"

The words hit her like a punch to the stomach. Everything they had planned—their life together—was now hanging by a thread.

"I didn't want this," she whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."

His expression softened, but only slightly. "Then leave him," he said, his voice quieter but no less intense. "Come back to me. We can fix this."

Isla wanted to say yes. She wanted to go back to the safety and simplicity Julian offered. But it wasn't that easy—not with the forged documents, the anonymous threats, and a woman like Victoria lurking in the shadows.

"I can't," she said, her heart aching. "Not yet. I need to understand what's happening first."

Julian's lips pressed into a thin line. "And Calloway? Do you trust him?"

She hesitated. "No," she admitted. "But right now, he's the only person who can help me figure out the truth."

A bitter laugh escaped Julian's lips. "You're playing with fire, Isla."

"I know," she said softly. "But I don't have a choice."

The silence between them grew heavy. For a moment, Isla thought he might turn and walk away. But instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low and urgent.

"I'm not giving up on us," he said. "Whatever this is—whoever he is—I'll find out the truth. And when I do, you'll see that you belong with me."

Her heart twisted painfully. She wanted to tell him that things could go back to the way they were—but deep down, she wasn't sure they ever could.

Without another word, Julian turned and walked out of the building, leaving her alone with the weight of everything they had lost.

That evening, Isla sat on the couch in her apartment, still shaken from her encounter with Julian. The guilt gnawed at her—she never wanted to hurt him, yet here they were.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

Her stomach flipped. Damien?

She stood and crossed the room, unlocking the door. But when she opened it, her heart stopped.

A black box sat on the floor. No note. No return address.

She bent down slowly and picked it up, her hands trembling. Something about it felt… wrong.

Isla carried the box to the kitchen and placed it on the counter. With a deep breath, she opened the lid.

Inside was a delicate silver key. No explanation. No message. Just the key.

A chill ran down her spine. Someone was playing games. And she didn't know the rules.

Her phone rang, making her jump. She snatched it off the counter without checking the screen.

"Hello?"

"Did you get a delivery?" Damien's voice was sharp, as if he already knew the answer.

"Yes," she said, her pulse quickening. "A key. It was left outside my door."

"Lock everything," he ordered. "I'm coming over."

The line went dead.

Damien arrived twenty minutes later, his expression colder than she had ever seen. Without a word, he stepped inside and scanned the room like he was searching for a threat.

"Where is it?" he asked.

Isla handed him the black box, watching as his face darkened. "What does it mean?" she asked softly.

His fingers curled around the key. "It's a warning."

"A warning?" Her voice trembled. "From who?"

He hesitated, then said one name. "Victoria."

Isla's breath caught. "How do you know?"

"Because this isn't her first message," Damien said bitterly. "And it won't be her last."

Fear twisted in her gut. Whoever Victoria Hale was, she wasn't just a bitter ex. She was dangerous.

"What does she want?" Isla demanded.

Damien's jaw clenched. "Control. And she thinks you're a threat to it."

Isla's stomach turned. She hadn't asked for this. But now, it was too late to walk away.

"She won't stop," he warned. "And if she's already making moves, you're not safe here."

The room felt colder. The walls seemed to close in.

"I can't live like this," Isla whispered.

"You won't have to," Damien said. His voice softened—just slightly. "I'll keep you safe. But you have to trust me."

Her heart pounded as she met his gaze. For all his coldness, there was something in his eyes—somethi

ng raw and fierce.

And, against every instinct, she realized one thing.

She wanted to trust him.

No matter how dangerous it was.