Isabelle’s POV

I didn’t sleep that night.

Not because I couldn’t.

But because I wouldn’t.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Damion’s face—sober, serious, stripped of every layer of the man I once knew. Not the cold executive. Not the man tangled up in his father’s lies or Kaia’s games.

Just him.

Apologizing.

Offering help.

And it made everything so much more complicated.

Because now I didn’t just have enemies at my back. I had memories clawing at my chest.

I paced ...