Unfinished Business

Chapter 9: Unfinished Business

Isla stood frozen, the faded photograph still clutched in her trembling hands. Her father—smiling, young, and unaware—stood beside Victoria Hale. The woman who now seemed determined to tear her life apart.

"I can't believe this," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Damien watched her carefully, his expression unreadable. "There's more," he said, pulling out another document from the folder.

Isla's heart pounded as he handed her an old letter, yellowed with age. The handwriting was elegant and sharp—too sharp.

Elias,

Our work is only beginning. Don't forget your promises. You owe me everything.

It was signed with a simple letter: V.

Her breath caught. Victoria.

"My father… was working with her?" Isla asked, struggling to understand. "Why?"

Damien leaned against the edge of the desk, his face cold. "I don't know all the details. But whatever they started—Victoria isn't finished with it."

Isla shook her head, the confusion tightening in her chest. Her father had never talked about a past like this. He had always been warm, kind, and honest. What was he hiding?

"What does she want from me?" she asked, more to herself than to Damien.

"She wants control," Damien said quietly. "And you? You're in her way."

The weight of his words settled deep inside her. She had been dragged into something far beyond a simple marriage. This was a battle started long before she ever met Damien.

And it was far from over.

Hours later, Isla paced the grand hallway of the Calloway estate. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about the letter, the photograph—the secrets.

Why hadn't her father ever warned her? And why was she only learning this now?

The sound of footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. Damien. His presence filled the space, calm and powerful as always.

"You're still thinking about it," he said, his tone softer than usual.

"How could I not?" Isla turned to face him. "My father and your stepmother? This changes everything."

Damien nodded slowly. "I know."

Isla let out a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "If my father owed her something, maybe… maybe she's after me to finish what he started."

Damien's face hardened. "And I won't let her use you."

His words hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken promises.

"Why do you care so much, Damien?" she asked, searching his face. "Why protect me?"

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—something raw.

"Because you didn't choose this," he said quietly. "And neither did I. But I'm not going to stand by while Victoria tries to destroy you."

Isla's chest tightened. For all his coldness, she knew his words were real. And that scared her more than anything.

Later that night, Isla couldn't sleep. The weight of everything—the lies, the danger—pressed too heavily on her mind. She needed fresh air.

Quietly, she slipped out of her bedroom and made her way down the grand staircase. Moonlight poured through the tall windows, casting soft silver shadows across the marble floors.

The gardens outside were still, the night air cool against her skin. She walked along the path, trying to clear her thoughts.

But the peace didn't last.

A soft rustling sound came from the edge of the garden.

Isla froze.

"Who's there?" she called out, her voice steadier than she felt.

For a moment, nothing. Just the wind brushing through the leaves.

Then, a shadow emerged from the darkness.

Her heart stuttered. Julian.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice sharp with shock.

"I needed to see you," Julian said, stepping closer. His face was tense, his usual calm broken by something deeper—something desperate.

"You can't be here," Isla said, glancing toward the house. "If Damien finds you—"

"I don't care about Damien," Julian interrupted, his voice low. "I care about you."

His words hit her harder than she expected.

"You should have told me the truth," he continued, hurt flashing in his eyes. "About your marriage. About everything."

"I didn't have a choice," Isla whispered.

"Yes, you did," Julian said, his voice rough. "And you chose him."

His words cut deeper than she wanted to admit.

"I didn't choose any of this," she said softly. "I'm trying to survive, Julian. That's all."

For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of the wind.

"I'm not giving up on us," Julian said, stepping closer. "Whatever is going on—whatever secrets Damien is hiding—I'll find the truth."

Isla swallowed hard, torn between the safety of her old life and the chaos she was now trapped in.

"You should go," she said quietly, though a part of her didn't want him to leave.

Julian hesitated. "I'll be back," he promised, before disappearing into the night.

Isla let out a shaky breath, knowing nothing would ever be the same.

When she returned inside, Damien was waiting for her.

His face was unreadable, but there was a sharp edge to his voice. "What did he want?"

Isla's heart pounded. "You knew he was here?"

"I know everything that happens on my property," Damien said coldly. "Why did you meet him?"

"I didn't plan to," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "He came looking for answers."

Damien's jaw tightened. "Julian doesn't care about answers. He cares about winning."

Isla's breath hitched. "And what about you, Damien? What do you care about?"

For a moment, the ice in his eyes melted, replaced by something softer—something real.

"You," he said quietly.

The word hung between them, heavy with meaning.

"I'm not your property," Isla said, though her voice trembled slightly.

Damien took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. "No, you're not," he agreed. "But I'm not letting anyone take you from me."

The intensity in his voice sent a shiver through her. She should have been afraid—but she wasn't.

"What happens next?" she asked softly.

Damien's hand brushed against hers, his touch warm and steady. "We find out what Victoria wants," he said. "And we stop her—before she tears us apart."

A chill ran down her spine, but she didn't pull away.

For better or worse, they were in this together.

And the danger was only beginning.