Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Isla
I press my hands against the vast windows, drinking in the Manhattan skyline. The view still steals my breath—a glittering canvas of light against velvet darkness. A reminder of how far I’ve climbed.
Below me, the Artisan Hotel’s rooftop fills with the quiet murmur of power. Industry titans circling each other like elegant predators, photographers hovering at the edges, hungry for a moment of weakness.
“Quite a view, isn’t it?”
Eli’s voice slides across my skin like warm silk. He doesn’t touch me, not yet, but I feel him—the heat of him, the gravitational pull I’ve never been able to resist.
I turn, finding his eyes in the half-darkness. “It doesn’t feel real.”
He reaches for my hand, his fingers claiming mine with quiet possession. The simple touch anchors me, even as it sets my pulse racing.
“Oh, it’s real,” he murmurs. “You made it real.”
Before I can respond, Bash approaches, champagne glass raised in casual salute. His easy smile disguises the shrewd assessment in his eyes.
“Gotta admit, brother,” he says, gaze sweeping over the crowded rooftop. “This is pretty damn impressive.”
My attention drifts to where our mothers stand together, the sight catching in my throat. Maggie Alderidge, the epitome of aristocratic grace, stands shoulder to shoulder with my mother. Mom’s wearing the emerald green dress I insisted she buy, her chin lifted with quiet dignity I’ve rarely seen.
“Mom looks happy,” I manage, swallowing past the tightness in my throat.
Eli’s thumb traces small circles against my wrist—a gesture so intimate it makes me shiver. “They both do.”
Xander and Reyna approach, their presence parting the crowd without effort. Xander exchanges a silent look with Eli—a slight nod that speaks volumes between brothers.
“You’ve exceeded every expectation,” Reyna says, her voice warm as she touches my arm. “Edward would be proud.”
“No,” Eli counters, his voice firm but gentle. “This isn’t about Dad’s expectations. This is about what we built together.”
The words hit their mark. I blink rapidly, fighting unexpected tears. Because he’s right. This moment isn’t about proving ourselves to ghosts. It’s about what we created—not just the hotel, but this fragile, precious family we’ve pieced together from broken parts.
My mother catches my eye across the room, and her smile nearly undoes me. For the first time in her life, she’s not standing in the shadows of the wealthy families she served. Tonight, she belongs.
“Ready to make history?” Eli murmurs, his lips close enough to my ear that I feel his breath against my skin.
I squeeze his hand, drawing strength from the connection between us. “With you? Always.”
The city glows behind us, a quiet witness to our victory. Looking at Eli, at our families together, reality finally settles in my bones. We did it. Not just the hotel—we proved something bigger. That we could have both our worlds without losing ourselves.
The room falls quiet as Sophia takes the stage. Pride swells in my chest at the sight of her—confident in her navy suit, her presence commanding without demanding.
“Good evening, everyone.” Her voice rings clear through the space. “Tonight, we’re not just celebrating a hotel. We’re celebrating a revolution in sustainable luxury.”
Eli’s hand presses against my lower back—possessive, proud. “You did this,” he whispers. “You showed her what was possible.”
My throat tightens. “She did it herself. I just opened the door.”
Sophia launches into her presentation, her passion illuminating her from within. The living walls pulse behind her, a perfect backdrop to her elegant delivery. The crowd leans forward, captivated.
“The Artisan Hotel isn’t just a building,” she continues, her eyes bright with conviction. “It’s proof that we can honor our past while building our future. That luxury can coexist with responsibility.”
“Damn,” Bash whispers from behind us. “Mini-you is killing it up there.”
I can’t help the watery laugh that escapes me. Because he’s wrong—she’s not mini-me. She’s entirely herself, and that’s what makes this moment so perfect.
The questions from the audience come rapid-fire, and Sophia handles each one with grace. When Mrs. Wu stands to ask about safety protocols, my breath catches—but Sophia doesn’t falter.
“Our redundancy systems exceed every standard by 300%,” she answers with quiet confidence. “We learned from history to build a better future.”
Mom appears at my side, squeezing my hand.
“You see yourself in her, don’t you?”
I shake my head, smiling through unshed tears.
“No. I see who she’s becoming. That’s even better.”
The applause is thunderous when Sophia concludes. She catches my eye as she leaves the stage, and the look we share speaks volumes.
“Thank you,” she whispers as she reaches us, her eyes shining. “For everything.”
I pull her into a fierce hug, propriety be damned. “No, Sophia. Thank you for reminding me why we do this.”
As she moves into the crowd, accepting congratulations, Eli wraps his arm around my waist.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Eli murmurs, his voice low against my ear.
I lean into him, watching Sophia shine. “What’s that?”
“You’re going to need a bigger division. There are more Sophias out there, waiting for their chance.”
I exhale, letting his words settle into my bones.
For so long, I thought success meant proving myself, proving I belonged. But looking at Sophia, at my mother, at the people celebrating tonight, I realize—I don’t need to prove anything.
I belong here. With them. With him.
“Come with me,” Eli murmurs, his hand finding the small of my back. He guides me away from the crowd, through glass doors that slide open silently, onto a private terrace I didn’t know existed.
The party noise fades as the door closes behind us. Up here, away from the crowd, I can finally breathe. The city stretches out below, a maze of lights against the dark. I catch my breath at the view—I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing Manhattan like this.
“How did you?—”
“I had them add this during the final phase,” Eli says, moving to stand behind me. His arms wrap around my waist, and I lean back against his chest. “I wanted somewhere that was just... ours.”
My heart stutters at the word. Ours. Such a simple word, but one that once seemed impossible.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper, watching my breath fog in the cool night air.
“Almost.” Eli turns me in his arms, and there’s something in his expression that makes my pulse quicken. He reaches into his pocket, producing a small white card. “This makes it perfect.”
I take the keycard, running my thumb over its smooth surface. In an elegant script, it reads: The Carrington Suite.
“Eli...” My voice breaks on his name.
“Every great hotel has a signature suite,” he says softly. “This one’s named after the architect who made it all possible.” His fingers brush my cheek. “The woman who taught me that true legacy isn’t about what we inherit—it’s about what we build.”
Tears spill over, and I don’t try to stop them. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll stay.” His voice is rough with emotion. “Not just tonight. Not just tomorrow. Stay and build more impossible things with me.”
I look up at him through blurred vision. “You know I will.”
“No,” he shakes his head, thumb brushing away my tears. “I mean really stay. Move in with me. Let’s make this our home—not just the suite, but all of it. The hotel, the company, this life we’re building.”
The city lights blur into a kaleidoscope through my tears.
“Are you sure? After everything?—”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He presses his forehead to mine. “We’ve spent too long letting fear of the past dictate our future. I’m done with that. I want this—all of it. With you.”
A laugh bubbles up through my tears. “You know Drake will be underfoot within a day.”
“Already gave him access,” Eli grins. “And an office two floors down.”
“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”
“I learned from the best.” His smile softens. “So? What do you say, Isla?”
I answer by pulling him down into a kiss that tastes like champagne and promises and future. When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“Is that a yes?” he murmurs against my lips.
“That’s a hell yes,” I whisper back, and his laughter joins mine in the night air.
Below us, the city pulses with life. Above us, stars peek through the urban glow. And here, in this moment, everything feels possible.
A slow, deliberate clap cuts through our moment of joy. My spine stiffens before I even turn around.
James Wolfe stands in the doorway, backlit by the party inside. His expression is unreadable, but his stance radiates cold calculation. Eli’s arm tightens around me instinctively.
“Quite the triumph,” Wolfe says, his voice carrying easily across the terrace. He lifts his crystal tumbler in a mock toast. “Who would have thought?”
“What do you want, James?” Eli’s voice is steady, but I feel the tension rippling through his body.
Wolfe’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Want? Oh, I’ve already got what I want.”
He takes a measured sip of his drink, eyes glittering with malice.
“You see, watching you play happy families with the Alderidges has been... illuminating. The prodigal Wolfe heir, turning her back on her true legacy.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. “If you’re here to threaten us?—“
“Threaten?” He laughs, the sound sharp as broken glass. “My dear cousin, why would I threaten what’s already in motion?”
Eli steps forward, partially shielding me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Wolfe’s smile turns cold, calculating.
“It means that while you’ve been focused on your little hotel, bigger pieces are moving. Edward taught me one valuable lesson—patience.”
His eyes gleam with something dangerous.
“And I’ve learned to be very, very patient.”
I step out from behind Eli, lifting my chin. Something in me shifts, crystallizes. All these years of uncertainty about my place, my blood, my worth—they fall away in this moment.
“You know what your biggest mistake was, James?” My voice comes out steady, strong. “Thinking that blood defines family.”
He stills, that aristocratic mask slipping for just a second.
“Careful, little cousin?—”
“No.” I cut him off, feeling Eli’s quiet strength beside me. “I’m not your cousin. Jonathan Wolfe might have given me his DNA, but he gave up any right to call me family the day he walked away from my mother.”
Wolfe’s fingers tighten on his glass. “You’re a Wolfe, whether you like it or not?—“
“I’m Marie Carrington’s daughter,” I interrupt, my voice ringing with certainty. “The woman who worked three jobs to put me through school. Who taught me that real strength isn’t about power or money or blood—it’s about love. About sacrifice. About choosing your family every single day.”
I feel Eli’s hand slip into mine, and I squeeze it.
“The Alderidges? They chose me. Not because of my blood or my name, but because of who I am. What I’ve built.” I meet Wolfe’s gaze steadily. “My mother gave me life, but she also gave me something Jonathan never could—the courage to create my own legacy.”
Something flickers in Wolfe’s eyes—pain, maybe. Or regret.
“You could have had everything?—”
“I already do.” I gesture to the hotel behind us, to the family celebrating inside. “Everything that matters, anyway. The Wolfes might be my blood, but the Alderidges and my mother? They’re my choice. My real family.”
Wolfe’s smile turns cruel.
“Such sentiment. Let’s see how long it lasts when?—“
“When what?” Eli’s voice is quiet but dangerous. “When you try to tear us apart again? You failed once, James. You’ll fail again.”
“We’ll see.” He raises his glass one final time. “Tomorrow’s a different story.”
He turns to leave, then pauses.
“Oh, and Isla? Do give your mother my regards.”
The door slides shut behind him, but this time, I don’t feel fear. I feel... peace. Because finally, after all these years, I know exactly who I am and where I belong.
“You okay?” Eli asks softly, turning me to face him.
I smile, feeling tears prick my eyes. “Better than okay. I’m home.”
He brushes a tear from my cheek.
“Yes, you are. And nothing—not Wolfe, not blood, not the past—can change that.”
Behind us, the city lights twinkle like stars, and somewhere in that celebration, my mother is probably worrying about me. But she doesn’t need to. Not anymore. Because I finally understand what she’s known all along—that real family isn’t about the blood in your veins.
It’s about the love in your heart.