Chapter Four

Isla

The city has a way of turning whispers into weapons. By the time the morning sun crept across the skyline, every headline bore my name—and beside it, Cassian’s.

Cassian Valtore Claims Isla Marquez.

Scandalous Kiss or Strategic Alliance?

From Prisoner to Power Player—Who Really Is Isla Marquez?

My coffee sat untouched on the table of a corner café, the steam long gone cold. I kept scrolling, even though I knew better. The more I read, the more I felt the ground shift under my feet. Yesterday, I was the disgraced woman clawing her way back into a world that didn’t want her. Today, I was the woman tethered to Cassian Valtore—the man whose name alone could silence a room.

And yet, every headline carried a sting. It wasn’t me they were protecting. It wasn’t Isla. It was Cassian’s Isla. His possession. His shield. His scandal.

I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to breathe past the swarm of voices. The café hummed with quiet conversation, but I could feel it—eyes darting toward me, hushed tones thick with speculation. I was the spectacle they’d ordered with their morning coffee.

Then came the notification. A fresh alert at the top of my screen. I tapped it, and the blood drained from my face.

Ronan Mercer Speaks Out: “She Betrayed Me. She Betrayed Us All.”

My thumb hovered, but curiosity was a crueler thing than pride. I pressed play.

Ronan stood outside Mercer Holdings’ glass façade, the city reflected like fire in the windows behind him. His jacket was gone, his tie loosened just enough to make him look human, but not careless. That was his gift—every detail calibrated to win sympathy, to make strangers believe he was the one bleeding.

“I loved Isla,” he told the cameras, his voice low, thick with practiced pain. “I stood by her when no one else did. I gave her everything. And she destroyed it. She lied. She stole. She betrayed not only me, but everyone who trusted her. And now—” His jaw flexed, his gaze darting down as though the words cut too deep. “Now she’s found her perfect match. My father. The man who taught me everything. Apparently including betrayal.”

The cameras erupted in questions. His name trended before he’d even finished speaking.

I sat frozen, the sound of his voice clawing through my chest. My stomach knotted, my throat burned.

He’d played it perfectly. I was the conniving ex. Cassian was the usurping father. Ronan—the golden boy—was the wounded lover, betrayed by both.

And worse than all of it was the fact that people would believe him.

The phone slipped from my hand and clattered against the table. A couple at the next booth looked over, whispering, their eyes sharp with recognition. Heat climbed up my neck. I grabbed my bag and fled before I broke apart in front of them.

---

Cassian’s office was a cathedral of steel and glass. Cold. Immaculate. Indifferent.

“You let this happen!” My voice cracked the air before the doors had even shut behind me. His assistant startled, half-rising from her desk, but Cassian lifted a hand without looking away from the document in front of him. The silent dismissal made her retreat instantly.

I stormed inside, slamming the door behind me. “Do you have any idea what he just said?”

“I assume you’re referring to Ronan,” Cassian said without glancing up. His tone was maddeningly calm, as though I’d come in to complain about the weather.

“He stood in front of cameras and painted me like a liar, a thief, a—” My voice cracked. “And you. He dragged you into it too.”

Now, at last, Cassian lifted his gaze. Steel-gray eyes, unreadable and sharp as a blade, pinned me where I stood. He set his pen down with quiet precision and leaned back in his chair.

“Of course he did,” he said evenly. “What did you expect him to do? Send us flowers?”

The casual cruelty of his words made my chest tighten. “You think this is a joke?”

“I think it’s predictable,” he countered. “Ronan has always been a boy with too much pride and too little control. You bruise his ego, and he lashes out. Nothing new.”

The dismissal sent fury surging through me. “Nothing new? He’s poisoning every headline, Cassian! Every whisper on the street. He’s painting me as a criminal, and you—” My voice faltered. “You as…”

“As what?” He rose then, slow and deliberate. Not a wasted movement. The air seemed to thicken around him as he crossed the room, each step precise. When he stopped in front of me, the difference in our height forced me to tilt my chin upward, my pulse racing in protest.

“As his father who betrayed him,” Cassian finished for me, his voice smooth as glass. “Which, incidentally, makes for excellent press. They can’t decide if we’re a scandal or a power play. Either way, they’re watching. Which means Ronan is bleeding far more than you are.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shake him until that infuriating calm shattered. Instead, I clenched my fists at my sides. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Enjoying?” He tilted his head, as though the word amused him. “No. But I don’t waste energy fighting inevitabilities.”

“Don’t twist this into philosophy,” I snapped. “This isn’t some chess match you’re winning. This is my life. My name.”

Cassian’s gaze burned hotter. He stepped closer, so close I could feel the faint brush of his breath against my skin. “Your name was already ruined, Isla. I’m the only reason it hasn’t been buried.”

The truth of it hit like a slap.

I hated him for saying it. I hated him more for being right.

“You kissed me,” he continued, softer now, but more dangerous for it. “In front of the people who despise you most. Do you think they would ever let you walk away clean? Do you think Ronan would?”

My voice was barely a whisper. “So what, then? I let you use me as your pawn while you tear each other apart?”

“Not my pawn,” he murmured. “My partner.”

The word rattled through me, heavy with meaning.

“Marry me, Isla.” His voice dropped lower, intimate, inexorable. “And you’ll never fight him alone again. Together, we’ll end him.”

The room spun. My breath caught.

Marriage. The word hung between us like a loaded gun.

I wanted to laugh. To spit in his face. To tell him he was insane. But instead, all I could do was feel the tremor in my own chest, the dangerous temptation of his promise.

Ronan had once offered me forever with soft hands and practiced smiles. Cassian was offering me vengeance, forged in fire and steel.

And God help me, it was sweeter than love.

“If I refuse?” My voice trembled despite my best efforts.

Cassian’s lips curved into a faint, ruthless smile. “Then Ronan wins. And you return to exactly what you were yesterday. The disgraced girl. The story everyone forgot.”

The silence pressed against me, thick as smoke. My pulse hammered against my ribs, frantic and betraying.

He wasn’t asking. He was cornering me. And the worst part was—I was already considering surrender.

---

That night, I lay awake in my narrow bed, staring at the ceiling while the city roared outside my window. His words replayed in my head, over and over, until they blurred into something close to truth.

Marry me. End him. Together.

My body screamed to run, to fight, to resist. But my heart, traitorous and raw, whispered something else entirely.

That maybe—for the first time since Ronan destroyed me—I wasn’t powerless anymore.

And maybe, just maybe, Cassian was the weapon I needed.