Isabella's fingers tightened around the suitcase handle until her knuckles turned white. Elijah's words hit her harder than his presence, harder than the cold air filling her lungs.
She swallowed, and for a moment, she thought she could hold herself together.
She couldn't.
"You—" Her voice cracked, thin. "You can't just decide that."
Elijah didn't move. His expression didn't change. He just watched her, eyes dark, unreadable.
Isabella took a step forward, anger shaking through every inch of her body.
"You can't just— take my life," she said louder, her voice rising. "You can't decide who I marry, where I live, what I do, what I—"
Her breath hitched, and she choked on the rest of the sentence.
Elijah didn't answer. He stood still. Completely still. As if he was waiting for the storm to finish.
That only made it worse.
"You don't get to be calm!" she shouted at him, voice breaking. "You don't get to stand there and act like I'm being unreasonable when you— when you lied to me. When you didn't tell me. When you—"
She shoved him.
Hard.
His body barely moved, but the sound of her palms slapping against his chest echoed in the silent clearing.
"You let me think I could trust you," she whispered, and now tears were falling, slow and hot. "I told you things. I— I let you touch me. And you were just—"
Her voice fractured. She pressed her hands to her face, crying into her palms.
Elijah's jaw tightened. Just slightly.The first crack in the mask.
He stepped closer.
She stumbled back."Don't touch me."
He stopped.Not because she told him to.But because he wanted her to see he heard her.
"Isabella," he said quietly, voice no longer sharp. "You think I planned this. That I wanted to deceive you."
She looked up, eyes red, mascara smudged, chest heaving.She didn't speak.He continued.
"I didn't know it was you."His voice was low. Controlled."I didn't know you were the contract. Not until after."
Her breaths came uneven and painful.
"You still didn't tell me," she whispered.
"No," he admitted. "I didn't."
"Why?"
He looked at her for a long moment.His eyes softened. Just barely.
"Because the moment I saw you again, I knew that if I told you, you would run."
A broken laugh pulled itself from her chest."And I did."
"Yes," he said."And I went after you."
He took another step forward, slow enough she could stop him.
She didn't.
His hand lifted—not to grab her—but to brush a tear from her cheek.
She flinched.Not because she didn't want him to.But because it hurt that she did.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"I don't want this."
His thumb paused against her skin.
"I know."
Silence.Cold, heavy, honest.
His voice was lower now, almost a murmur.
"But I am not letting you go."