Chapter Thirty–Five
The room was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the phone still resting on the table beside the herbs. Adrian stared at it for a long time, his reflection ghosting faintly across the screen as the comments continued to pile up. His jaw clenched once before he finally reached for the phone and dialed a number.
It rang only once before her voice came through—calm, bright, almost cheerful.
“Young Master,” Isabella greeted. “Still awake?”
Adrian leaned back in his chair, his tone steady but carrying the faint edge of disbelief. “You sound unusually calm for someone whose name is being dragged through every corner of the internet right now.”
A soft laugh answered him. “Ah, so you’ve seen it.”
“Of course I’ve seen it,” he said quietly. “It’s everywhere. Do you know what they’re saying? That you were at the hotel with some mystery man, that you’re reckless, that you’ve shamed your company-”
“–and that the mystery man might be married,” she added lightly, cutting him off before he could finish. “Yes, I read a few of the comments myself. People have too much time.”
Adrian frowned. “You’re not even worried.”
“No,” she said, her voice smooth and unbothered. “Because I know how this works. Today it’s a scandal, tomorrow it’s forgotten. The online world feeds on chaos. Once the next headline drops, no one will even
remember I exist.”
He rubbed his forehead, exhaling through his nose. “You really think it’ll die down that easily?”
“I don’t think,” Isabella said, a faint smile in her tone. “I know. And besides, the only thing that matters right now is that no one knows who I was actually meeting. You’re still invisible, Young Master. That’s what we needed.”
Adrian’s lips curved faintly, though his eyes remained serious. “Invisible or not, you didn’t have to take that risk. The comments, the backlash-”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she interrupted softly. “I’ve dealt with worse in the boardroom. This? This is noise. Let them talk.”
For a moment, he didn’t answer. He could hear the faint clinking of glass in the background, maybe the sound of her pouring water, unhurried, serene as if the whole scandal meant nothing.
Finally, he said, “You shouldn’t have to clean up after me, Isabella.”
Her tone softened. “Young Master, you make it sound like I regret it. I don’t.”
There was silence between them for a heartbeat–quiet, but not awkward. The kind that always seemed to fall between them when words were unnecessary.
Then she changed the subject, her tone turning brisk. “Anyway, we have something more important to focus on. You need to move out of that hotel before anyone gets curious enough to dig deeper. I’ve already made the
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arrangements.”
He blinked, sitting up slightly, “That fast?”
“I told you I was preparing a place for you,” she said. “A quiet property on the east side. You’ll like it there.”
Adrian leaned back again, his eyes thoughtful. “You’ve planned everything, haven’t you?”
“Of course,” she replied. “It’s my job to make sure you stay protected. We can’t risk anyone connecting you to Cole Conglomerate yet. You’ll move tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” he repeated, half–smiling. “You’re giving me orders now?”
“I’m managing the situation,” she said, tone half–teasing, half–firm. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Adrian chuckled quietly. “All right. Tomorrow it is.”
“Good,” Isabella said, satisfaction in her voice. “I’ll send someone to deliver the keys and the security clearance first thing in the evening.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, then paused. “Still… I’m curious. How are you really so calm about this? If it were someone else, they’d be hiding from reporters right now.”
Her laughter was soft, confident. “Because, Young Master, I don’t let the opinions of strangers decide my peace. They don’t feed me, they don’t build my name, and they certainly don’t know the truth. Why should I care what they think?”
He smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You“re very correct. I love how strong you’re”
“You taught me that, remember? The day you said power isn’t in silence–it’s in choosing which noise to ignore.”
Adrian’s expression softened, his gaze drifting toward the herbs steeping on the counter. “I said that?”
“You did,” Isabella said, her voice quieter now. “Before everything happened.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The faint hum of the night filled the silence between them–the soft ticking of the wall clock, the distant city sounds muffled through the rain–dampened air.
Finally, she cleared her throat lightly. “Get some rest, Young Master. Tomorrow will be busy.”
He hesitated. “Isabella.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you,” he said simply.
Her voice softened, almost affectionate. “You don’t need to thank me. Just promise you’ll move out tomorrow.”
“I will,” he replied.
“Good,” she said, the warmth in her tone quickly fading back to her usual composure. “Then we’ll talk in the morning. Goodnight, Young Master.”
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“Goodnight, Isabella.”
The line clicked off, the screen dinuming once more. Adrian sat in silence, staring at the faint reflection of himself in the glass. Despite her calm words, he knew Isabella had seen the headlines before he did–she’d just chosen not to show it. That was her strength, the same one that had kept Cole Conglomerate from collapsing when his family vanished.
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly.
“She really doesn’t let anything shake her…” he murmured.
Then his thoughts wandered–back to Elena, back to the endless accusations, the shame, the weight of a marriage that had only ever been one–sided. How she had blamed him for every whisper, every rumor. How even his silence was enough to anger her.
He let out a quiet sigh.
“At least that part of my life is finally over.”
His phone buzzed again.
Catherine’s name appeared on the screen.
He swiped to answer. “Hey.”
Her voice was warm, friendly. “You home yet?”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing at the herbs cooling beside him. “Just got in.”
“I saw what happened online,” she said carefully. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he replied. “It’s nothing. Just noise.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I wanted to tell you–you did really well today. Everyone was impressed. I’m proud of you.”
That made him smile faintly. “Thanks, Catherine.”
There was a short pause, then she asked, “You busy tomorrow?”
“I’ll be moving into my new place,” he said.
“Ah,” she said lightly. “Then I won’t bother you. But don’t forget–my birthday’s in a few days don’t forget! You promised to come.”
Adrian chuckled quietly. “I remember.”
“Good,” she teased. “Then I’ll expect a gift.”
“You’ll get it,” he said, his tone gentle.
When the call ended, the silence returned once again. Adrian leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
