CHAPTER THIRTY #2
Isabella enters, closes it behind her, and remains standing in front of me. She has changed out of her work clothes into dark trousers and a lightweight top, although the fatigue of the long day still rests across her shoulders.
“Have they found something?”
“A bank account connected to another intermediary company.”
She crosses the office and approaches the desk.
“Is the connection to Richard direct?”
“Not yet. The money left RTH Capital, moved through two companies, and reached a private investigation agency.”
“So we still don’t have definitive proof.”
“We have a financial trail, but not enough to accuse him formally.”
I turn the computer toward her. Isabella bends over to study the screen, bracing one hand on the desk. Her perfume reaches me before a strand of her hair brushes my face, and my body reacts with the same speed it did five years ago.
Apparently, all that time has taught it nothing.
“Show me the entire sequence.”
I open the spreadsheet prepared by the team. Isabella reads the figures and dates over my shoulder, stopping at one of the transfers.
“This payment was made the week before the meeting at the Beaumont.”
I examine the date and compare it with the investigative timeline.
“Yes.”
“It could be the company that followed me.”
“It could. It may also relate to another operation Richard was running, and I am not going to do to him what I did to you.”
She straightens but does not step away.
“Even after everything you have already found?”
“Especially because of what we’ve found. If Richard manipulated my tests and staged what happened at the hotel, he had five years to place layers between himself and the payments. Accusing him before we break through them would only warn him.”
Isabella crosses her arms.
“I also don’t want the investigation to continue until he has time to erase whatever remains.”
“Neither do I. Two teams are working independently to reduce that risk, and the relevant bank records are already being preserved under a confidential court order.”
She studies me.
“You’re far too calm.”
I almost laugh, although there is nothing amusing about the situation.
“I’m not calm. I have spent my entire life learning how to look controlled while imagining ways to destroy someone.”
“And what are you doing now?”
“Learning not to carry out any of them before I have proof.”
The corner of her mouth moves.
“That sounds like progress.”
“It is extraordinarily difficult.”
“I can imagine. Having to respect procedure like an ordinary person must be terrible.”
“I have faced the adversity with remarkable dignity.”
This time, Isabella smiles. It is a small movement, but it transforms her face and makes the office dangerously intimate.
The silence that follows is not comfortable, although neither is it hostile. It has existed between us since the night in the kitchen when she touched my face and nearly kissed me. Every encounter since then has carried the awareness of the distance we did not cross.
Isabella is the first to move away.
“I’m going to bed. Tell me when they find something concrete.”
“I will.”
She walks to the door, rests her hand on the handle, and remains there for several seconds. I think she is about to leave, but Isabella releases it and turns back toward me.
My heart beats hard enough to hurt.
“Alexander.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
I stand slowly, careful not to interpret her return as a decision she has not yet made.
“You don’t need to know tonight.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“The right thing. You’re becoming unbearable.”
“I can attempt to be disappointing if that would help.”
She comes back and stops an arm’s length away. There is determination in her face, but also a vulnerability that makes it difficult to breathe normally.
“I’m still angry with you.”
“I know.”
“I still don’t trust you completely, and nothing we discover about Richard will erase the choice you made that night.”
“I know that too.”
“Then stop answering as though every sentence I say is a clause you have to accept.”
“What would you like me to say?”
Isabella looks at me for several seconds.
“The truth.”
I take a slow breath.
“The truth is that I hate myself for believing him instead of you. It is also true that discovering Richard’s manipulation does not absolve me, because he separated us by exploiting the worst part of me.
I wanted to control everything, I was terrified of looking weak, and I preferred to pronounce a verdict before you had the chance to hurt me.
Richard may have created the lie, but I chose to believe it. ”
Her eyes shine, although she does not look away.
“That is slightly better than ‘I know.’”
“I could continue, but I suspect I would ruin the progress.”
She almost smiles. Then her eyes move to my mouth.
“Despite everything, I still want you.”
My entire body tightens, but I neither step forward nor reach for her.
“Isabella…”
“Do not turn this into more than it is. If I kiss you, it does not mean I have forgiven you, that I trust you completely, or that I intend to remain married when the contract ends.”
“Understood.”
“It also doesn’t mean—”
“You do not need to draft a verbal agreement before kissing me.”
Her expression falters.
“Our marriage literally has a contract.”
“That is a difficult argument to dispute.”
The laugh that escapes Isabella is quiet and nervous. A moment later, she closes the distance and kisses me.
For one second, I forget everything I have learned.