Isla's POV
I wake up at 6 AM to pounding on my door.
For a confused second, I think it's my landlord demanding rent. Then I remember—Lucas quit my jobs. I don't have rent money coming anymore.
Panic floods through me before I remember: I'm getting married in less than two weeks. Moving into Lucas's penthouse. This apartment won't be my problem anymore.
The pounding continues.
I stumble to the door, still in yesterday's clothes. Slept in them because I was too exhausted to change.
James stands in the hallway, perfectly dressed despite the early hour.
Mr. Kane sent me to collect you, he says. Your mother is being transferred to a private recovery room this morning. He thought you'd want to be there.
Lucas thought about me? About what I'd want?
No. He's just maintaining his investment.
Give me ten minutes.
I shower quickly in freezing water, throw on the least wrinkled clothes I can find, and follow James to the car.
At Mount Sinai, orderlies are already moving Mom from ICU to a regular room. Except it's not regular at all.
It's a suite. Private bathroom. Comfortable furniture. A view of Central Park.
This room costs I start.
Don't worry about cost, Lucas's voice says behind me.
I spin around. He's here. At 7 AM. In another perfect suit.
Why are you here? I ask.
I visit all my investments regularly. But his eyes are on my mother, being settled carefully into the new bed by nurses. How is she?
Stable, one nurse reports. Vitals are excellent. Dr. Chen is very pleased with her progress.
Mom's eyes flutter open. Still groggy from pain medication, but more alert than yesterday.
Isla? Her voice is weak but steady.
I'm here, Mom. I rush to her bedside, taking her hand.
Her eyes drift past me to Lucas. Recognition sparks. You're the man from before. Lucas.
Mrs. Walsh. Lucas approaches, his expression softening slightly. How are you feeling?
Like I got hit by a truck. Mom tries to smile. But alive. Thanks to you.
The surgeons did the work. I just made the introduction.
Don't be modest. Isla told me what you did. Paying for everything. Getting the best doctors. Tears fill Mom's eyes. I don't know how to repay you.
Lucas glances at me. Something passes between us—an understanding that Mom can never know the real price.
Your daughter's friendship is payment enough, Lucas says smoothly.
Friendship. The lie rolls off his tongue so easily.
Mom's eyes sharpen despite the medication. Friendship? Is that what you two are?
We're I start.
We're getting to know each other, Lucas interrupts. Isla's been very helpful with some business matters. It seemed natural to help with her mother's medical crisis in return.
It's perfect. Vague enough to be believable. Close enough to the truth to not be an obvious lie.
But Mom isn't fooled. She looks between us, her expression calculating.
Business matters, she repeats slowly. At 7 AM. In my hospital room.
Lucas smiles, the charming, public smile I'm learning to recognize. The one that hides everything real.
I'm an early riser. And I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed.
A nurse interrupts. Mrs. Walsh, I need to check your vitals.
I'll step outside, Lucas says. Isla, join me when you're ready.
He leaves. I stay with Mom while the nurse works.
Sweetheart, Mom says quietly once we're alone. What's really going on with you and Lucas Kane?
Nothing, Mom. He's just
Don't lie to me. Her voice is weak but firm. I may be sick, but I'm not blind. That man looks at you like you're something important. And you look terrified of him.
My throat tightens. It's complicated.
Then uncomplicate it for me.
I want to tell her everything. Want to break down and admit I sold myself. Signed a contract. Agreed to marry a stranger for revenge.
But she just had major surgery. The stress could hurt her recovery.
Lucas and I have an arrangement, I say carefully. He's helping with your medical bills. I'm helping him with some business problems. That's all.
Mom studies my face for a long moment. This arrangement... does it make you happy?
Happy? I haven't been happy in six months.
It makes you alive, I say. That's all that matters.
No, sweetheart. That's not all that matters. She squeezes my hand. I don't want you sacrificing yourself for me. If this arrangement is hurting you
It's not. The lie comes easier now. I promise, Mom. Everything's fine.
The nurse finishes and leaves. Mom's eyes are already drooping, medication pulling her back toward sleep.
I love you, she whispers. More than anything.
I love you too.
She falls asleep holding my hand.
I sit there for a while, watching her breathe. Steady. Strong. Alive.
This is why I signed the contract. This moment right here.
Eventually, I slip out into the hallway. Lucas leans against the wall, scrolling through his phone.
She suspects something, I say.
Of course she does. She's your mother. He pockets his phone. What did you tell her?
That we have an arrangement. Business. Nothing more.
Good. Keep it vague. He starts walking toward the elevators. Come on. We have the dress fitting in an hour.
I follow him automatically. Can't I stay with her?
She's sleeping. She'll sleep for hours. The medication will keep her comfortable. He presses the elevator button. Meanwhile, you have a wedding dress to choose. Unless you want to get married in a thrift store outfit?
The casual cruelty shouldn't sting anymore. But it does.
In the car, James drives us to a bridal boutique in Manhattan. The kind with appointments booked months in advance and dresses that cost more than cars.
A woman greets us at the door. Mr. Kane, right on time. And this must be the bride!
She says bride like it's magical. Like this is a fairy tale.
It's a nightmare dressed up as a wedding.
Isla Thornton, I introduce myself.
Margaret Price. Owner of Price Bridal. We're so honored to dress you for your special day! She's all smiles and enthusiasm. Mr. Kane gave us very specific requirements. Simple, elegant, nothing too dramatic. Is that correct?
Lucas nods. The wedding is small. City Hall. She needs something appropriate.
City Hall. Not a church. Not a ballroom. A courthouse with a bored judge and witnesses we don't know.
Some fairy tale.
Margaret leads me to a private dressing room. I've pulled several options based on Mr. Kane's specifications. Let's see what works!
Three assistants appear with dresses. All white or ivory. All beautiful. All wrong because this wedding is a lie.
I try on the first one. Simple sheath dress. Elegant but boring.
No, Lucas says from where he sits outside the dressing room. He can see me through the three-way mirror. Too plain.
The second dress. Lace sleeves. More romantic.
No. Too traditional.
Third dress. Off-shoulder. Modern and sleek.
Lucas pauses. Studies me from every angle.
That one, he finally says. But different color.
Margaret blinks. Different color? But it's a wedding
Cream, not white. Isla's not... He stops himself. Cream will suit her complexion better.
He was about to say I'm not a virgin. Not pure. Not worthy of white.
The assistants rush to find the dress in cream.
When I try it on, I barely recognize myself in the mirror. The dress is stunning. Form-fitting but elegant. Simple but expensive.
I look like a real bride.
Perfect, Lucas says. We'll take it.
Wonderful! Now for the veil
No veil. No flowers. No train. Just the dress.
Margaret's smile falters. Mr. Kane, surely for a wedding
This is what she's wearing. Nothing more. His tone makes it clear the discussion is over.
We're not having a real wedding. Why pretend with veils and flowers?
The assistants measure me for final alterations. Margaret promises the dress will be ready by Thursday.
Thursday? I repeat. The wedding is Friday.
Rush job, Lucas says. I'm paying triple for overnight alterations.
Money. Always money. He throws it around like it means nothing.
Back in the car, I finally break.
Why no veil? No flowers? Why make it so obvious this isn't real?
Lucas doesn't look at me. Because I don't believe in pretending something is more than it is. This is a business transaction. The dress is appropriate for a courthouse wedding. That's all we need.
Your revenge would work better if it looked real. If everyone believed we were actually in love.
Now he looks at me. Who said I want them to believe we're in love?
You said you wanted my father to watch me choose you. How is that choosing you if everyone knows it's fake?
They won't know it's fake. His smile is sharp. They'll see a rushed courthouse wedding and assume you're pregnant. Or desperate. Or gold-digging. Let them assume whatever they want. As long as Edward knows I took his daughter, that's all that matters.
Pregnant. Desperate. Gold-digger.
Those are the labels I'll carry after this wedding.
You really don't care what people think of me, I whisper.
I care that you understand your role. Play it well, and you'll survive the year. Play it badly... He leaves the threat hanging.
The rest of the drive is silent.
James drops me back at the hospital at 11 AM. Mom is still sleeping.
I sit beside her bed, holding her hand, and wonder what I've gotten myself into.
My phone buzzes. Maya. I've been ignoring her calls for days.
Isla, please talk to me. I'm worried. Are you okay?
No. I'm not okay. I'm marrying a man who sees me as a weapon. Who bought me with my mother's life.
But I can't tell her that.
I type back: I'm fine. Just busy. Talk soon.
Another message immediately: Busy with what? You quit all your jobs! What's going on?
How does she know I quit?
I needed a change. I'll explain everything later.
Isla Margaret Chen just texted me that you were at Price Bridal trying on WEDDING DRESSES. WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING???
My blood runs cold.
Margaret must have recognized my name. Told her friend. Who told Maya.
Of course. Manhattan's elite all know each other. Gossip travels fast.
It's complicated. Can we meet for coffee tomorrow?
YES. Tomorrow. 10 AM. Our usual place. And you're explaining EVERYTHING.
I put my phone away, my hands shaking.
Tomorrow I have to tell Maya I'm marrying Lucas Kane. My best friend, who knows my whole history. Who knows about Derek and Natalie and my father's betrayal.
She's going to think I've lost my mind.
Maybe I have.
Mom wakes up around 2 PM. More alert now. The medication is wearing off.
Sweetheart, you're still here. She smiles. Don't you have work?
I took time off. To be with you.
You can't afford to take time off. Your jobs
Are fine, Mom. Don't worry about it.
She studies me. Something's different. You look... I don't know. Stressed.
I'm fine.
Isla. I'm your mother. I know when you're lying. She struggles to sit up. I help her adjust the pillows. What's wrong? Is it Lucas?
Why would it be Lucas?
Because he's clearly important to you. And you're terrified of whatever's between you two.
There's nothing between us.
Then why were you trying on wedding dresses this morning?
My heart stops. How did you
Margaret Price called to congratulate me. Said her boutique was honored to dress my daughter for her upcoming wedding to Lucas Kane. Mom's eyes are sharp now, despite her weakness. Want to explain that?
I can't breathe. Can't think.
The secret I was supposed to keep for two more weeks just exploded in my face.
Mom
Are you marrying him? Her voice is quiet. Dangerous.
Lying won't work now. She knows.
Yes, I whisper. In two weeks. Friday. At City Hall.
The silence stretches forever.
Then Mom starts crying.
Not happy tears. Devastated tears.
Oh, Isla. What did you do? What did you promise him?
Nothing. Just
Don't lie to me! Her voice cracks. That man is paying for a three-hundred-thousand-dollar surgery. For private rooms and the best doctors and everything. What did you give him in return?
The truth claws its way out.
One year. As his wife. And my shares in Thornton Media.
Mom's face crumbles. You sold yourself.
I saved you.
I didn't ask you to do that!
You were dying! What was I supposed to do?
Let me die! She's sobbing now. Let me die instead of destroying your life for mine!
Don't say that. Don't ever say that.
Isla, he's using you for revenge against your father. Everyone knows the story. Kane Industries. The suicide. The institutionalized mother. Her hands shake. He doesn't love you. He's using you as a weapon.
I know.
Then why
Because you're all I have! The words rip out of me. Dad threw me away. Natalie betrayed me. Derek humiliated me. Everyone I loved abandoned me except you. So yes, I sold myself. Yes, I signed a contract. Yes, I'm marrying a man who sees me as property. Because losing you would destroy me more than any of that ever could.
Mom pulls me into her arms. We cry together. Her weak from surgery. Me exhausted from carrying this secret.
I'm sorry, she whispers. I'm so sorry you had to make this choice.
I'm not sorry. You're alive. That's all that matters.
She pulls back, wiping her eyes. What happens after the year?
Divorce. I walk away with nothing except your continued medical care.
Nothing? No money? No
Nothing.
That's not fair.
Life isn't fair, Mom. We both know that.
She's quiet for a long time. Then she grabs my hand hard.
Then we make the most of this year. We make sure you come out of it stronger, not broken. Her eyes are fierce now. You're not a victim, Isla. You're a survivor. You made a deal to save my life. Now you make another deal, with yourself. You survive this year. You learn everything you can. You build connections, skills, knowledge. And when he throws you away, you land on your feet.
How?
I don't know yet. But we'll figure it out together. She squeezes my hand. Promise me. Promise you won't let him break you.
I think of Lucas's cold eyes. His cruel words. His contract designed to destroy me.
I promise.
Good. She settles back against the pillows, exhausted. Now tell me about this wedding dress. Did you at least get something beautiful?
Despite everything, I smile. It's perfect. Simple but elegant. You'll love it.
Will I be there? At the wedding?
I haven't thought about it. Haven't asked Lucas.
I don't know. It's small. Just witnesses.
Make sure I'm there. Her voice is firm. If you're marrying him because of me, then I'm watching it happen. I'm witnessing what you sacrificed. Understood?
Yes, Mom.
She falls asleep again. I sit with her until visiting hours end.
Outside, James waits with the car.
Mr. Kane asked me to take you home, he says.
Which home? My apartment or his penthouse?
Your apartment. For now. You move to the penthouse after the wedding.
Two more weeks of freedom. Then I'm his completely.
At my apartment, I find an envelope taped to my door.
Inside: a check. Made out to me. For ten thousand dollars.
A note in Lucas's handwriting: For expenses. Rent, food, whatever you need for the next two weeks. Don't embarrass me by showing up to events in rags. -LK
Ten thousand dollars. Like it's nothing.
I should be grateful. Should be relieved to have money for the first time in months.
Instead, I feel sick.
Because this is what I am now. Someone who takes money from the man who bought her.
I deposit the check anyway.
Because I need to eat. Need to pay rent for these last two weeks.
Need to survive until I can figure out how to survive the year after.
That night, I dream of the wedding.
Standing in my cream dress at City Hall. Lucas beside me in his perfect suit.
The judge asking: Do you take this man?
Me answering: I do.
Signing away my last piece of freedom.
Becoming Mrs. Lucas Kane.
And my father, watching from the back of the room, his face twisted with rage.
Lucas smiling. Victorious.
Because he won.
He took everything.
Including me.
I wake up at 3 AM, sweating and terrified.
Ten days until the wedding.
Ten days until my life as Lucas Kane's revenge bride begins.
God help me.
I'm going to need it.