Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Eli
Twenty minutes later, I burst into the executive floor, the weight of revelation burning in my chest.
The tension in the room hits me like a wall.
Drake paces, his usual tech-genius calm completely shattered. Bash and Xander flank Reyna near my desk, their faces grim. Silent sentinel statues waiting for a war.
“Where the hell have you been?” Drake snaps, whirling to face me. His fists clench at his sides, knuckles white with barely controlled rage.
“She’s not answering her phone. She hasn’t left her apartment in two weeks.” His voice cracks on the words, revealing the depth of his worry. “This isn’t normal, Eli. Not for her.”
Something cold slides down my spine. The image of Isla in Wolfe’s office flashes through my mind—the way she’d looked at me that night. Like she was saying goodbye.
God, I’d been too angry to see it then, but now... now I recognize that look for what it was. Not guilt. Not betrayal. Pure sacrifice.
“How long?” My voice emerges rough, stripped raw.
“Two weeks,” Reyna answers, her calm tone belying the worry in her eyes. “No contact with anyone. Not even her mother.”
Bash pushes off from where he’s leaning against my desk.
“So? You still think she just betrayed you for fun, brother?” His eyes glitter with accusation. “Because from where I’m standing, this looks a lot like someone trying to protect the people they love.”
I don’t answer. Can’t answer. The files from the archive feel like they’re burning a hole in my pocket—proof of my blindness, my stubborn pride.
“Isla is Jonathan Wolfe’s daughter.” The words fall into the stunned silence like stones. “Dad knew. He’s known since before he hired her.”
“What?” Drake stops pacing, his face draining of color.
“James Wolfe’s uncle—he had an affair with Marie when she worked for their family. Dad found out during Isla’s background check six years ago. He hired her anyway, thinking he could protect her, protect all of us. But James found out.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bash breathes, the playboy facade cracking to reveal genuine shock.
“He went to Marie first,” I continue, my voice tight with controlled fury.
“Threatened to expose everything—not just Isla’s parentage, but turn it into a scandal.
Make it look like she deliberately infiltrated Alderidge-Hathaway, used me to get close to the company.
He promised to destroy her mother’s reputation, everything they’ve built. ”
Reyna’s eyes narrow, calculating. “And your reputation too.”
I nod, jaw clenched. “The Wolfe heir secretly working for Alderidge-Hathaway? Dating one of the Alderidge brothers? The press would have a field day. Everything I’ve built with the Artisan Hotel, my chance to prove myself—he knew exactly how to use it all against us.”
“So she walked away,” Xander says quietly. “To protect you both.”
“She knew,” I finally manage, the words scraping my throat. “About Wolfe, about all of it. She knew what he’d do if she stayed.”
“Of course she knew,” Drake bites out, the venom in his voice directed squarely at me. “She’s been trying to keep you safe from that bastard since before you even met her. And how’d you repay that? By believing the worst the second Wolfe dangled it in front of you.”
The truth of his words is as powerful as a punch to the face. Xander steps forward, his expression softening fractionally.
“You can’t change what happened,” he says quietly. “But you can change what happens next.”
I’m already grabbing my keys from the desk. “The emergency protocols?—”
“Already activated,” Drake interrupts, his anger momentarily eclipsed by efficiency. “You’ll have full access.”
Drake’s hand catches my shoulder as I turn to leave. His grip is tight, fingers digging in—a reminder of the gravity of what comes next.
“Don’t screw this up again, Eli.” His voice drops lower, meant only for me. “Some things you only get to break once.”
I meet his eyes, seeing the echo of his own past mistakes there. “I know.”
“Do you?” Drake challenges, but there’s less heat now. Something like tentative hope flickers beneath his anger. “Because if you go there just to hurt her again?—”
“I won’t.” The certainty in my voice surprises even me. “The betrayal doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters except Isla.”
“Good,” Reyna says softly. “Then go get her.”
I don’t need to be told twice. The betrayal, the hurt, the pride—it all falls away, replaced by a single, burning truth: Isla needs me. And this time, I won’t let her face Wolfe’s darkness alone.
The hallway to Isla’s loft is dark when I arrive, the usual warm glow from her windows absent. Drake wasn’t exaggerating. I let myself in with the override code, and my heart stops.
The space that’s usually alive with her energy—scattered designs, material samples, the constant hum of creativity—is silent.
Heavy curtains block out the city lights, leaving only the dim glow of her laptop screen, files open but clearly untouched.
And there, curled into herself on the window seat, is Isla, hair falling loose around her face.
She doesn’t even look up when I enter. Something tightens in my chest.
“You didn’t answer your phone.” My voice comes out rougher than intended.
No response. Just the slight tension in her shoulders telling me she heard.
I cross the room slowly, like approaching a wounded animal. When I kneel in front of her, my heart hammers against my ribs. Slowly, she lifts her head.
“Fuck.” The word escapes before I can stop it. She looks destroyed—dark circles under red-rimmed eyes, usually warm skin pale and drawn.
“You should go.” Her voice is hoarse, like she hasn’t used it in days. Maybe she hasn’t.
I cup her face, tilting it up, forcing her to look at me. “No.”
Her lip trembles. “Eli, I?—”
“I know about Jonathan Wolfe,” I cut in gently. “I know why you walked away. Both times.”
She tries to pull back, but I don’t let her. “You don’t understand?—“
“I understand everything.” My thumb brushes her cheek, catching a tear she probably doesn’t even realize has fallen. “I understand that my father used you. That Wolfe used you. That everyone in your life has asked you to sacrifice yourself for them.”
A small sound escapes her, something between a gasp and a sob.
“But I’m not asking you to sacrifice anything,” I continue, my other hand finding hers, cold and trembling. “I’m asking you to let me in. To let me fight with you, not against you.”
“I don’t—“ Her voice breaks. “I don’t know how to stop fighting.”
I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in. “Then let me fight for you. Just this once, Isla. Let someone else be strong.”
The dam breaks. She crumples forward into my arms, and I catch her, like I should have been doing all along. Her tears are silent, but I feel them soaking through my shirt as I hold her.
“No more running,” I whisper into her hair. “No more secrets. No more sacrificing yourself to protect everyone else.”
Her fingers grip my shirt tighter. “Promise?”
“I promise.” I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. “We face Wolfe together. We face everything together.”
For the first time since I entered, something like hope flickers in her eyes. And when she nods, it feels like the first breath after drowning.
“I should have trusted you,” I whisper against her lips. “I should have fought for you, not against you.”
Her breath hitches, but she still doesn’t move.
“What if it happens again?” she asks quietly. “What if I’m not enough to make you believe in us next time?”
Her words make my heart clench, because I know I deserve them.
“There won’t be a next time,” I vow, my fingers threading through her hair. “I will never doubt you again, Isla. I swear it.”
Something in her crumbles, her lips parting on a shaky breath.
The first kiss is gentle, almost hesitant—my lips brushing against hers like a question. Her response is immediate, desperate, her fingers curling into my shirt as she pulls me closer. I can taste the salt of her tears, feel the slight tremor in her body as she presses against me.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe against her mouth. “God, Isla, I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you.”
She shakes her head, her hands sliding up to frame my face.
“I should have told you everything. Should have trusted that you were strong enough to handle it.”
“We both screwed up.” My fingers thread through her hair, cradling the back of her head. “But no more walls between us. No more pushing each other away.”
Her breath hitches as I trail kisses down her jaw, her neck. “Eli?—”
“I love you.” The words come out rough, urgent. “I never stopped loving you. Even when I thought?—”
She cuts me off with another kiss, this one deeper, more desperate. Her body arches into mine as I press her back against the window seat cushions, one hand sliding beneath her shirt to trace the warm skin of her waist.
“Say it again,” she whispers, her eyes dark and vulnerable in the dim light.
“I love you.” I press the words into her skin between kisses. “I love your strength. Your stubbornness. Your need to protect everyone, even when it breaks you.”
A soft sound escapes her as my hands roam higher, but I don’t stop. I need her to feel this. To know this.
“I love the way you fight for the people you love.” My lips skim the curve of her shoulder.
“I love the way you challenge me, make me better.” My fingers trace the delicate line of her spine, drawing a shiver from her.
“I love every single version of you, Isla. Even the one who thought she had to walk away.”
Her breath stutters, and she clings to me like she’s afraid to let go. “I love you too,” she whispers, the words raw, stripped bare. “Even when I was walking away, I loved you.”
The admission breaks something loose in my chest. I capture her mouth again, pouring weeks of longing and regret and hope into the kiss. She responds with equal fervor, her legs wrapping around my waist as I lift her.
I carry her through the darkness of her loft, navigating purely by memory and need. When I lay her on the bed, the city lights filtering through the curtains paint her skin in shadows and silver.
“You’re everything,” I tell her, watching her eyes darken as I slowly unbutton her shirt. “Everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything I’ll ever need.”
Her hands reach for me, pulling me down to her. “Show me.”
And I do. With every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise against her skin, I show her exactly how much she means to me. How completely she owns my heart. How we’re stronger together than we ever were apart.