Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eli
I pause outside Wolfe’s office, my hand hovering over the doorknob. The message burns in my pocket.
We should talk. No more games.
I tried calling Isla three times after receiving it—straight to voicemail. Left her a message about meeting Wolfe, hoping she’d call back. She didn’t.
Of course it’s a trap—I’m not naive. But I need to know what he’s planning.
The heavy door swings open. My heart stops.
Isla.
She’s standing there, across from Wolfe’s desk, her copper hair catching the dim light. Her shoulders are tense, her expression guilty—like I’ve caught her doing something she shouldn’t. But she doesn’t look surprised to see me.
She doesn’t look surprised at all.
“What the hell is this?” My voice comes out sharp, controlled—barely.
Isla takes a step forward, her green eyes wide. “Eli?—”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Wolfe’s lazy drawl cuts through the tension. He leans back in his leather chair, a predatory smile playing at his lips. “She’s been here for a while.”
Doubt slides under my skin like ice. She should be beside me—not with him.
“How long?” The words taste like ash.Her fingers twist together—a nervous tell I know too well.
“Please, let me explain?—”
“How. Long?”
Wolfe’s smile widens.
“Why don’t you tell him, Isla? Tell him about our little arrangement.”
She flinches at his words, and something inside me fractures. This isn’t right. None of this is right. Isla wouldn’t—she couldn’t?—
“I was trying to protect you,” she whispers.
My laugh comes out harsh.
“Protect me? By meeting with him behind my back?”
“It’s not what you think?—“
“Then what is it?” I step closer, searching her face for any sign of the woman I thought I knew. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like what I think.”
Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t fight back. Just stands there, carrying secrets like armor.
“I trusted you.” My voice breaks on the last word.
“I know.” She reaches for me, but I step back. Her hand falls to her side.
“And I’m asking you to trust me now.”
The irony burns. Trust her? When she’s standing in Wolfe’s office, clearly hiding something? When every instinct is screaming that something is terribly wrong?
Wolfe watches us like we’re his personal entertainment, and maybe we are. Maybe we’ve been playing into his hands this whole time.
And Isla—my Isla—just stands there. Silent. Guilty.
The doubt that started as a crack spreads like poison through my veins. Why is she here alone? What arrangement was Wolfe talking about? And why won’t she just tell me the truth?
Let me help you, I want to scream. Let me in.
But she won’t. I can see it in her eyes, in the way she holds herself apart. Whatever she’s doing, she’s chosen to do it alone.
And that choice might just break us both.
My phone buzzes. Then again. And again. The vibrations feel like accusations against my thigh.
Drake. Mom. The board.
News alerts.
My stomach turns to ice as the headlines flash across the screen:
brEAKING: Leaked Documents Reveal Isla Carrington’s Business Ties to Wolfe Development Group
Shell Companies Trace Back to Isla Carrington—Was the Alderidge Heir Played from the Start?
The room spins. My fingers go numb as I scroll through document after document—her name, the connections, every single one tied to Wolfe’s network of businesses. The evidence spreads out like a web, and she’s at the center of it all.
“Tell me this isn’t true.” My voice comes out low, cold—a stranger’s voice.
My pulse roars in my ears. My vision tunnels. My fingers flex at my sides, itching to grab something, to hold onto something solid—but there’s nothing. Just her. And she won’t even look at me.
Isla hesitates. Just for a second.
One second too long.
She doesn’t say no. Doesn’t fight back. Instead, she lowers her gaze—like she’s carrying the weight of the world—and whispers, “I can fix this.”
Fix this.
Not fight it. Not deny it. Just fix it.
Like it’s already true.
“Fix what, exactly?” The words scrape my throat. “The fact that you’ve been working with him this whole time? That everything between us was—what? Part of his plan?”
“No!” The word bursts from her like she can’t contain it. “God, Eli, no. What we have is real?—”
“Is it?” I cut her off, holding up my phone. The screen glows accusingly between us. “Because these documents tell a different story.”
Wolfe’s chuckle slides through the room like oil.
“Ah, passion. Always your weakness, Eli—letting your heart blind you.”
“Shut up.” Isla whirls on him, fierce. But then she catches herself, and the mask returns.
The one that keeps me out.
“The timing is interesting, isn’t it?” I say quietly. “These leaks, this meeting. Almost like it was orchestrated.”
“Eli, please—” She takes a step toward me, but I raise my hand, stopping her.
“Just answer one question.” My voice threatens to break, but I force it steady. “Have you been meeting with him? Behind my back?”
The silence stretches between us like a living thing.
Finally, she whispers, “Yes. But this is the first time?—”
The admission hits like a physical blow. My chest constricts, and I have to lock my knees to stay standing.
“But not for the reasons you think,” she adds quickly, desperately. “There are things you don’t understand?—“
“Then help me understand!” The words explode from me. “Tell me what’s going on! Unless—“ The realization hits like ice water. “Unless you can’t. Because whatever this is, whatever game you’re playing—you’ve chosen your side.”
She flinches like I’ve struck her. Her nails press into her palms, white-knuckled, like she’s holding herself together by sheer force of will.
“That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” I laugh, and the sound is ugly. “What’s not fair is finding out the woman I love has been lying to my face. What’s not fair is standing here, watching you choose him over us.”
The tears in her eyes spill over, but I force myself to look away. I can’t let them affect me. Not now. Not when everything I thought I knew about us is crumbling.
My phone buzzes again. More headlines. More proof that I’ve been a fool.
And still, she says nothing to defend herself.
My hands clench at my sides, knuckles white with restraint. The leather chairs, the mahogany desk, the entire damn office feels like it’s closing in. Every breath tastes like betrayal.
“Isla.” Her name comes out strained, barely controlled. “Just tell me the truth.”
Say you had nothing to do with this. Say you aren’t working with him. Say something—anything—to make this nightmare make sense.
But she just stares at me, her expression torn, those green eyes I’ve fallen into so many times now clouded with secrets she won’t share.
“You have to trust me,” she whispers, and the words slice deeper than any accusation could.
“Trust you?” The laugh that escapes me is hollow. “You’re standing in his office, Isla. Documents linking you to him are spreading across every news outlet in the city. The board is blowing up my phone. And you’re asking me to trust you?”
“Yes.” She lifts her chin, defiant even now. “Because everything I’ve done?—“
“Has been to protect me?” I cut her off. “That’s getting old real fast, Carrington.”
She flinches at the use of her last name, and something dark and satisfied unfurls in my chest. Good. Let her feel a fraction of this pain.
“You don’t understand what’s at stake,” she tries again.
“Then make me understand!” My voice echoes off the walls. “For once in your life, just let someone in. Let me help you.”
“I can’t.” The words fall between us like stones.
Wolfe shifts in his chair, and I’d almost forgotten he was there. Almost.
“Such drama,” he drawls. “Though I suppose that’s what happens when you mix business with pleasure.”
“You son of a—” I start forward, but Isla steps between us.
“Don’t,” she pleads. “He’s not worth it.”
“And you’re defending him now?” The words taste like poison. “Perfect.”
“I’m not defending him, I’m protecting you!”
“I don’t need your protection!” The words explode from me. “I need your honesty. I need you to trust me enough to tell me what the hell is going on. I need—” My voice breaks. “I need you to choose us.”
The silence that follows is deafening. I watch as tears spill down her cheeks, but she makes no move to wipe them away. No move to explain. No move at all.
And in that moment, I know. Whatever we had, whatever I thought we were building—it’s over.
“You know what the worst part is?” My voice comes out quiet now, defeated. “I would have fought for you. Against him, against the board, against anyone. But I can’t fight for someone who won’t even fight for themselves.”
She makes a small, broken sound.
“Eli—”
“You made your choice, Carrington.” I step back, each movement feeling like I’m tearing myself apart. “Now you get to live with it.”
I hesitate. Just for a breath, a second—long enough for hope to flicker. Long enough to wish she’d call me back. But she doesn’t. And I turn away.
The last thing I see before I turn away is her face crumpling, and I know that image will haunt me. But I keep walking. Because sometimes loving someone means knowing when to let them go.
Even if it destroys you in the process.
The boardroom doors slam behind me with a finality that echoes through my bones. Faces turn—some concerned, others accusatory. The morning sun streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows feels like a spotlight, harsh and unforgiving.
“Mr. Alderidge.” Carter’s voice cuts through the murmurs. “The board requires answers.”
My throat constricts as I take my seat. The leather chair that usually feels like power now feels like a prison. On the screens around us, headlines scroll endlessly, each one a fresh wound.
“Is it true?” Mrs. Wu leans forward, her eyes sharp with disappointment. “Has Ms. Carrington been working with Wolfe this entire time?”
The question hangs in the air. Five minutes ago, I would have defended Isla without hesitation. Now...
“I don’t know.” The admission tastes like defeat. “She won’t—she didn’t explain.”
Xander’s hand lands on my shoulder, steady and grounding. But even his presence can’t stop the whispers that ripple through the room.
“The evidence is quite compelling,” someone says. Documents flash across the screens—paper trails, shell companies, meetings. All carefully orchestrated to destroy everything we’ve built.
My phone buzzes again. Drake.
She must have had a reason. Let me investigate. Don’t make any decisions yet.
But it’s too late. The damage is done.
“The Artisan Hotel will survive,” I say, forcing strength into my voice.
“The project is sound. The technology is verified. That hasn’t changed.”
“And Ms. Carrington?”
The image of her standing in Wolfe’s office flashes through my mind. Her silence. Her secrets. Her choice.
“Is terminated, effective immediately.”
The words feel like glass in my throat, but I force them out. Because this isn’t just about us anymore. It’s about the project. The company. The legacy we’re trying to build.
“Your father—” Carter starts.
“Our father is dead.” The words crack through the room like a whip. “And I’m not him. I won’t let personal feelings compromise this company’s future.”
Even if those feelings are tearing me apart.
I straighten in my chair, forcing steel into my spine.
“I will stay as COO until the Artisan Hotel project is complete. After that, I will step down, and the board can appoint whomever they feel is best suited for the position. Leaving now would only destabilize the project and impact our stock value—I won’t let that happen.”
“Eli—” Carter begins, but Xander cuts him off.
“My brother is right.” Xander’s voice carries the weight of his CEO authority. “The Artisan Hotel is too crucial to our sustainable initiative. Eli’s leadership has been instrumental in its success.”
“I agree.” Reyna’s calm assertion draws all eyes. “The project needs consistency now more than ever. Eli has proven his commitment to this company time and again.”
A message flashes on the boardroom screen—Bash, joining remotely.
“The Alderidge brothers stand united on this. Eli’s the right person to see this through.” His words carry particular weight; as Dad’s named alternate for the position, his support effectively silences any remaining opposition. Between his backing and Xander’s CEO authority, the decision is final.
Their unified support settles over the room like a shield, and I see several board members nodding in agreement. But the victory feels hollow, knowing what it’s cost.
Xander squeezes my shoulder. “We should discuss contingency plans.”
Yes. Plans. Strategy. Things I can control. Not the way my chest feels hollow, or how every breath burns with questions she wouldn’t answer.
The meeting continues around me—voices discussing damage control, PR strategies, legal implications. But all I can think about is her face when I walked away. The tears she wouldn’t explain. The secrets she chose to keep.
My phone lights up. Isla.
I’m sorry. One day you’ll understand.
I turn the screen face down. Understanding isn’t enough anymore.
Not when trust lies shattered between us like broken glass.
The morning sun climbs higher, casting long shadows across the boardroom table. Somewhere in this building, Isla is probably packing up her office. Leaving, just like she did five years ago.
Only this time, I’m the one who walked away.
And God help me, it feels like I’ve left my heart behind in that office with her.