Isabella's POV

My first day at Hartley Media went considerably well. I was prepared for everything they could throw at me, and I managed to impress them. If only the thoughts of Damian wouldn't pop up in my head every five minutes. I was still left aching in need from just his fingers earlier. And he was rude enough to put me in this situation and just drive off like he did nothing.

After a long day of working, socializing, and dealing with the violent urge to touch myself, I finally got back home. Damian hadn't come to pick me up, not that I was expecting him anyways, so I went back myself.

I was so exhausted when I got back that I even skipped dinner. I couldn't even bear to look Damian in the eye after what had happened in his car. I hate how controlled he always seemed. That relaxed, nonchalant expression while I was left to battle whatever he was awakening in me.

I laid down on the king-sized bed, staring at the coffered ceilings. I couldn't sleep a wink. I was exhausted to the bone, but I couldn't sleep a wink. All I could think of was Damian.

My hands unknowingly reached for my lower lips. It was already hydrated, overflowing even. I inserted two fingers in, trying to replicate what I felt when he did it. It wasn't the same, but I was frustrated, and I couldn't exactly go and knock on his door and ask Mom to let me borrow her husband for a while.

I stroked with my fingers, rhythmically, just like he would. I closed my eyes and imagined it was Damian's long fingers invading my insides. My back arched, soft moans had started filling the room. My free hand covered up my mouth—I wouldn't want anyone out there to hear me moaning Damian's name. I kept on going, increasing the pace until I felt I had reached a limit. Beads of tears formed on the corner of my eyes. A singular motion and the flood gates were open. My juice poured out like a broken tap, and for a moment all I could see was white. After reaching that orgasm, I passed out, my hands still in my pussy.

**************

My room door squeaked open, waking me.

"Oh!" Mom only peeked before turning away from me. "I'm sorry, baby. I should have knocked before I got in. I didn't realize you were having a… um, personal time."

I didn't understand what she was talking about until I looked down to find my hands still inside my pants. My ears went red as I took it out.

"Ma, it's nothing. I wasn't doing anything."

She turned slowly with a warm smile. She held a cup of hot coffee in her hands as she walked towards my bed.

"I felt like you'd need this," she said, handing me the coffee. "You came back so tired, I couldn't bring myself to wake and upset you."

"Thank you, Ma. This is just what I needed." I blew the coffee before taking a sip. The strong, hot taste went down my throat, waking me up fully.

She stared at me with her wide eyes and smile until I almost started to feel awkward. "What is it, Ma? You always do this when you want to say something. Go ahead, spit it out."

Mom laughed before she started talking. "It's about the guy I brought back. Cole."

I rolled my eyes, and she took my hands into hers.

"He's a good guy. He graduated from Harvard. He's charming, handsome, and he comes from a rich background."

"Mom, I know all that. It's just that I want to focus on my internship for now. I don't need any distractions."

She squeezed my hands tighter. "I'm just saying, you should give it a shot. Try letting him take you out for dinner or something. You might see that the both of you have something in common."

My mother looked at me with eyes that shone like they had glitter in them.

"Ugh, fine."

Mom's excitement was visible, and I couldn't help but smile. She placed a kiss on my forehead and almost skipped when she was walking out.

Turns out I still had to see Cole. Maybe it was time to honor his invitation.

**********

The car stopped me in front of a very grandiose building. It looked simple and sophisticated at the same time, and it became clear that Cole was a man who valued his aesthetics. I liked this about men. Maybe Mom was right, we did have some things in common.

Cole was standing in front, waiting to welcome me in. A "true gentleman." He had his usual smile that was almost annoying to look at now, considering how much he kept such a facade.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said, reaching for my hands. I didn't stop him, and he took it up and gave it a gentle kiss.

"Nice house you've got here," I said, truly impressed.

"Please. Let me show you inside." He gestured me in.

The interior was even better. The floor was made from white marble cut so fine, they looked transparent. He really had spared no expense when he was making this place.

"Would you like anything to drink?" he asked, keeping his eyes on me throughout every word. I started wondering if this guy had taken any class on etiquette for him to always be like this.

"Look, if it's possible, I'd like us to drop the formalities and get to the chase. Why did you call me here today?"

"Direct, aren't you?" Cole laughed. "I wanted to ease into it, but since you say so, gladly."

"So?"

"I called you here to give you reasons."

"Reasons for what?"

He fell quiet for a while, and I was sure he could hear my heartbeat from how rapid it was.

"Your father didn't die of cancer like you were made to believe," he broke the silence, and I felt the world tilt.

"What do you mean? There's evidence that he did. The autopsy, the hospital records…"

"Were fabricated," Cole interrupted, his eyes narrowing. "And I can prove it."

I was still shaken in my seat when Cole pulled out his phone and played a video.

The video showed Damian in an all-black suit. He was swearing and threatening someone. The camera zoomed in on the face. It was Dad.

Damian threatened to kill Dad. There were other people there, but Dad was bleeding from his nose and mouth.

I froze, shocked to the bone.

Why did he do it?