Chapter 11
Isla
Valentine's Day dawns bright and cold, and I wake up with butterflies that have nothing to do with the weather.
Tonight is the gala. The final date. The end of the contract and the beginning of whatever comes next.
I spent last night texting with Sebastian until two in the morning, nothing important, just random thoughts and inside jokes and the kind of conversation that makes you smile at your phone like an idiot.
This is what falling in love feels like, I think as I get ready for my morning shift. Terrifying and exhilarating and so far outside my comfort zone that I can barely recognize myself.
The café is busy with Valentine's Day traffic. Students buying coffee for their partners, last-minute gift bags, heart-shaped cookies we're selling for some campus charity.
Lennox works beside me, and she keeps shooting me knowing looks.
"You're glowing," she observes during a rare lull.
"I'm sweating. It's hot in here."
"No, you're glowing. You're in love. It's disgusting and adorable." She grins. "Tonight's the big night, right? The final date?"
Did I just hear right? Did she say I’m in love? Am I in love? I can feel myself starting to panic, am I in love with Sebastian? One thing I do know is, I’m not going to think about it right now, because the night is already going to be stressful enough this is something I can not worry about.
Loving Sebastian Thornhill is something I never thought I would say.
"The gala, yeah."
"And then?" She asks.
"And then we figure out if this is real or if I've been delusional for two weeks."
"My money's on real. I've never seen Sebastian Thornhill look at anyone the way he looks at you." She wipes down the counter. "Just promise me something?"
"What?"
"If it goes wrong tonight, if he turns back into the asshole he was, you'll let us help. You won't try to handle it alone."
The request catches me off guard. "Why would it go wrong?"
"I don't think it will. But guys like Sebastian... they're complicated. They have pressures we don't understand. And sometimes, under pressure, people revert." She squeezes my arm. "I'm not trying to be negative. I'm just saying we're here. Whatever happens."
"Nothing's going to happen. Tonight's going to be perfect."
I say it with more confidence than I feel.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of anticipation. Classes feel endless. My afternoon library shift drags. By the time I'm back in my dorm room getting ready, I'm a mess of nerves and excitement.
The gala starts at eight. Sebastian is picking me up at seven-thirty.
I shower, do my makeup more carefully than I ever have, style my hair in loose waves. The red dress from yesterday hangs on my closet door, Sebastian had it dry-cleaned overnight and returned it this morning with a note: For tonight. You're going to be the most beautiful person there. S
I slip into the dress, the heels, check my reflection.
I look... different. Not like Isla Monroe, scholarship student who works two jobs and wears thrift store clothes. Like someone who belongs at a Valentine's gala with Sebastian Thornhill.
The thought is both thrilling and terrifying.
Ivy knocks on my door at seven. She's dressed for some other Valentine's event, but she wanted to see me before I left.
"Holy shit," she says when I open the door. "Isla, you look incredible."
"You think?"
"I know." She comes in and closes the door. "Okay, last-minute pep talk. You've got this. You're brilliant and strong and if Sebastian Thornhill screws this up, it's his loss, not yours."
"You're being very supportive for someone who's been warning me about him for two weeks."
"I can be supportive and cautious at the same time." She hugs me carefully, avoiding my makeup. "Text me when you get there and when you leave. And if anything goes wrong, anything you call me immediately."
"Nothing's going to go wrong." I pray nothing goes wrong.
"It won’t. But just in case."
At seven-thirty exactly, my phone buzzes.
Sebastian: I'm downstairs. Ready?
Me: Be right there.
I grab my clutch, borrowed from Lennox and head downstairs.
Sebastian is waiting by his car, and when he sees me, his entire face transforms.
He's wearing a tuxedo. An actual, perfectly tailored tuxedo that makes him look like he stepped out of a magazine. His hair is styled, his jaw clean-shaven, and he looks every inch the Thornhill heir he was born to be.
"Wow," he says when I reach him.
"Back at you."
He opens my door, and I slide into the passenger seat. When he gets in, he doesn't start the car immediately. Just looks at me.
"What?" I ask.
"I'm trying to memorize this. You, right now, before everything changes."
"Nothing's changing. It's just a gala."
"It's the last date. After tonight, the contract is over. Everything changes." He reaches over and takes my hand. "But hopefully in a good way."
"Definitely in a good way."
He kisses my knuckles old-fashioned and sweet, then starts the car.
The gala is being held in the same ballroom where the auction happened two weeks ago. It feels both like yesterday and like years ago. So much has changed since I stood on that stage, terrified and angry, while Sebastian bid a thousand dollars on me.
Now I'm arriving with him, by choice, as something that might actually be a real couple.
The ballroom is transformed. White and gold decorations everywhere, fairy lights strung across the ceiling, tables set with elaborate centerpieces. It's beautiful in that excessive, wealthy way that Thornhill excels at.
Sebastian's hand finds mine as we enter. Other couples are already there—dressed up, laughing, taking photos. I recognize some faces from classes, from campus. Everyone looks so confident, so at ease in this world.
I try to channel that confidence as we make our way inside.
"Sebastian!" A voice calls out. Harrison from the Legacy Council waves us over. "Finally. We need you for photos. Publicity shots for the charity."
Sebastian squeezes my hand. "Be right back. Two minutes."
"I'll get us drinks," I offer.
He kisses my cheek, casual, possessive, public then heads off with Harrison.
I make my way to the bar, feeling suddenly alone in this crowd of people I don't know. The bartender hands me two glasses of champagne, and I turn to head back and nearly collide with a girl I vaguely recognize. One of Cecilia's friends. Tyler's date from the auction night.
"Isla, right?" She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "The scholarship student. Sebastian's... auction win."
The way she says it makes my skin crawl.
"That's me."
"It's so sweet, what you two are doing. Really playing up the whole Cinderella story for the cameras." She sips her drink. "Everyone's been talking about it."
"Talking about what?" I ask looking around.
"Oh, you know. The arrangement. How convenient it all is." She leans in conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I think it's smart. He gets good publicity, you get access to his world. Everyone wins."
My stomach drops. "It's not an arrangement. We're actually—"
"Of course you are." Her smile sharpens. "Well, enjoy tonight. I'm sure it's quite the experience for you. Being in a place like this, with people like us."
She walks away before I can respond, leaving me standing there with two glasses of champagne and a growing sense of unease.
People like us.
Is that how everyone sees this? As some charity case, some publicity stunt? Does everyone think I'm using Sebastian, or he's using me, or we're both using each other?
I find Sebastian by the photography backdrop, posing with other Legacy Council members. He sees me and immediately breaks away.
"Got the drinks. Good." He takes one and downs half of it. "God, these publicity things are exhausting."
"Are people talking about us?" I ask.
"What? Who?"
"That girl. Tyler's date. She made some comment about our 'arrangement.' About how convenient this is for both of us."
Sebastian's jaw tightens. "Ignore her. She's bitter that Tyler didn't win you. People are going to talk. That's what they do."
"But what are they saying?" I have a thousand questions going through my head right now.
"Nothing that matters." He sets down his glass and takes both my hands. "Isla, look at me. I don't care what anyone says. Tonight is about us. Finishing this contract and starting something real. Okay?"
I nod, trying to shake off the unease.
"Okay."
But the feeling doesn't go away.
We mingle. Dance. Smile for more photos. On the surface, everything is perfect. Sebastian introduces me to people, keeps his hand on my waist, treats me like I matter.
But I can feel eyes on us. Hear whispers that stop when we get too close. See knowing looks exchanged between Legacy Council members.
By nine o'clock, my anxiety is a living thing in my chest.
"I need some air," I tell Sebastian.
"Want me to come?"
"No, stay. I'll just be a minute."
I slip out onto one of the balconies overlooking campus. The February air is sharp and cold, but I welcome it. Inside was suffocating.
I pull out my phone to text Ivy, but before I can, I hear voices from around the corner of the balcony. Male voices. One I recognize immediately.
Sebastian.
And another voice. Older. Authoritative. Also somehow familiar.
"—absolutely unacceptable," the older voice is saying. "I raised you better than this."
"Father, you don't understand—"
Father. Sebastian's father is here.
I should leave. Should give them privacy. But something keeps me frozen in place.
"I understand perfectly. You bid on some scholarship girl at a charity auction and now you're parading her around like she's your equal. Do you have any idea how this looks?"
"I don't care how it looks."
"Well, you should. The Thornhill name means something. And you're dragging it through the mud for what? Some passing infatuation with a girl who's clearly using you?"
My blood runs cold.
"She's not using me—"
"Sebastian." His father's voice is sharp. "I've had people looking into her. Her background, her family situation, her financial status. Do you know what they found?"
No. Please no.
"Her mother is drowning in medical debt. Her sister has ongoing health issues that cost thousands monthly. And conveniently, right after you bid on her, she suddenly has money to spare. Money she's been sending home."
My vision blurs. The money from the auction. My twenty percent. I did send most of it home to help with my sister's bills.
"That doesn't mean—"
"It means exactly what you think it means. She saw an opportunity and she took it. And I can't entirely blame her, she's a smart girl, clearly. But I can blame you for being naive enough to fall for it."
"You're wrong about her."
But there's doubt in Sebastian's voice. Just a tiny hesitation, but I hear it.
"Am I? Then let me share one more piece of information.
" His father's voice drops. "One of your friends was kind enough to fill me in on some conversations she overheard.
Isla bragging to her friends about how easy it was to 'land a Thornhill.
' How this was her ticket to job prospects, connections, a better life after graduation. How she had you completely fooled."
No. That's not true. I never said any of that. Never even thought about it.
"I don't believe you."
"Then you're a fool. But I'm not going to stand by and watch you throw away your future for a gold-digger.
" There's a pause. "I'm giving you a choice, Sebastian.
End this tonight, publicly, and I'll forget this whole embarrassing episode.
Or continue with this girl, and I'll make sure everyone knows exactly what she is.
I'll expose her scheme, her family's situation, everything.
I'll ruin her reputation at this school so thoroughly she'll have no choice but to leave. "
My heart stops.
"You wouldn't."
"Try me. Thornhills protect their own. And right now, I'm protecting you from yourself."
Silence. Long, horrible silence.
Then Sebastian's voice, quieter than before, "I need to think."
"You have until midnight. That's when I'm scheduled to give my donor speech. If you haven't ended this by then, I'll do it for you. Publicly."
Footsteps. His father leaving.
I wait for Sebastian to argue more. To defend me. To tell his father to go to hell.
But he doesn't.
The silence stretches so long I start to feel sick.
Finally, I hear him move. Not toward the balcony where I'm hiding, but back inside. Back to the gala.
Back to the choice he has to make.
I stand alone on the balcony, shaking with cold and shock and the horrible realization that everything I feared is coming true.
Someone lied to his father. Someone invented conversations I never had. And now Sebastian has to choose between me and his family.
Between me and everything he's ever known.
And from that hesitation in his voice, I'm not sure which way he's going to choose.
I pull out my phone with trembling fingers and text Ivy: Something's wrong. I might need you.
Her response is immediate: On my way. Where are you?
Me: Valentine's Gala. Ashworth Ballroom. Balcony.
Ivy: 15 minutes. Don't move.
I put my phone away and wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold together pieces that are already falling apart.
Inside, the gala continues. Music, laughter, celebration.
Out here, I watch my almost-relationship crumble before it even had a chance to be real.
And the worst part? I still don't know if I should fight for it or just walk away.