CHAPTER 12: The Man Who Refused to Be Ignored

Victor Blackwood didn't believe in coincidences.

So when he showed up outside the Lin estate the next morning in a charcoal grey Bentley—just as Isabella stepped out for her routine morning walk—it wasn't coincidence.

It was intention.

She halted at the sight of him, arms crossed over her chest. Her dark, fitted windbreaker contrasted with her pale skin and sharp features. The wind tugged a few loose strands from her low ponytail.

"Are you stalking me?" she asked.

"I call it being punctual."

"For what?"

He opened the passenger door. "Your schedule says you walk from 6:30 to 7. I figured I'd drive you to wherever you usually disappear to afterward."

"I don't recall giving you my schedule."

"I don't recall needing permission."

She stared at him.

He smiled—calm, unreadable, irritatingly sure of himself.

Isabella's instincts screamed to walk away. But curiosity tugged louder.

With a sigh, she slid into the passenger seat.

They didn't speak at first.

Victor drove through quiet roads with smooth efficiency, the engine a low purr beneath them. He didn't ask where she was going. She didn't offer.

She finally broke the silence. "Is this part of some effort to fulfill the 'get to know my fiancée' clause?"

He glanced at her. "If it is, is it working?"

"No."

He chuckled. "I'll try harder."

She rolled her eyes and turned to the window, but a slight smile tugged at the edge of her lips.

Victor saw it—and filed it away like a small victory.

At the back gate of St. Helene's Medical College, Isabella stepped out.

Victor arched a brow. "I thought you weren't in school yet."

"I'm not." She looked at the glass doors with a faraway gaze. "I'm just… visiting."

Victor didn't push. But he noted the way the staff at the side entrance greeted her with too much respect for a mere visitor.

The way the lab director came running to open the door personally.

And how one elderly professor called her "Miss Thompson" under his breath.

Interesting.

Back at the car, Victor tapped out a message to Markus.

"Get me everything on Isabella Lin's academic background. Discreetly."

Markus: "Even the erased records?"

Victor: "Especially those."

Inside the lab, Isabella moved like she belonged.

Because she did.

Most of her current research—underground, classified, and entirely anonymous—was rooted in this very building.

She worked here before her name was ever recovered.

And though she hadn't officially enrolled, the college president—her grandfather—had once told her, "When you make medicine that rewrites textbooks, classrooms become optional."

She'd laughed.

Then earned full marks in every test she'd ever taken—even the ones she hadn't studied for.

Later that evening, Isabella opened her phone and found another message from AshenWolf.

[AshenWolf]: "Ever met someone who insists on being in your life?"

She stared at the screen.

And then typed—

[SkyeEcho]: "Yes. I'm trying not to hate him."

The reply came fast.

[AshenWolf]: "That bad?"

She didn't answer.

Instead, she leaned back on her bed and closed her eyes.

Because she wasn't sure which version of him she hated more:

The one who sat behind a screen and made her laugh…

Or the one who sat behind the wheel and made her heart race.

Next Chapter Teaser: Victor begins to unravel the first of Isabella's secrets—and confronts her about one of her public identities. But Isabella isn't ready to let him in... not yet. Especially when the past she tried to bury starts clawing its way to the surface.