Chapter 42
The eerie sense of déjà vu wasn’t lost on Isabella. But what unsettled her more was the way Alexander stiffened beside her, as if he, too, recognized something unspoken between them.
Their movements were synchronized as they cornered the assassin against the jagged cliffside. The woman’s eyes burned with desperation, her lips curling into a snarl.
“Damn you!”
With a final, reckless lunge, she threw herself at Isabella.
Already teetering on the edge, Isabella’s balance shattered. The world tilted beneath her feet.
Then—strong fingers clamped around her wrist.
“I’ve got you!” Alexander’s voice was rough, strained.
But momentum was merciless.
They tumbled down the steep slope together, Alexander’s arms locking around her waist, his hand cradling the back of her head as they rolled. The impact of a gnarled tree trunk finally halted their fall, sending a jolt of pain through them both.
Isabella gasped, disoriented. She realized then—Alexander had shielded her with his own body.
When the world stopped spinning, she assessed the damage.
Superficial cuts lined her arms, but Alexander was far worse off. His forearms were shredded, his right arm and leg twisted at unnatural angles. Blood seeped through his torn clothes, mingling with the dirt.
Gritting his teeth, he forced his eyes open. “Help me,” he ground out. “My arm—it’s dislocated.”
Isabella didn’t hesitate. With practiced precision, she realigned his shoulder, ignoring his sharp inhale. Next, she splinted his fractured fingers, her touch steady despite the adrenaline humming through her veins.
She was efficient. Unshaken.
And Alexander couldn’t tear his gaze away.
“Lean against the tree,” she instructed, already stripping off her jacket. She tore the sleeves into makeshift bandages, fashioning a pillow for his head before binding his wounds.
Her eyes flicked to the darkening sky. “There’s a cave nearby. We need shelter before the rain worsens.”
Alexander nodded, attempting to rise—only to sway dangerously. Isabella caught him, her grip firm.
Together, they limped toward the cave’s mouth, the first drops of rain pelting their backs.
Inside, Isabella settled Alexander against the rough stone wall before gathering dry branches. Within minutes, a fire crackled to life, its warmth pushing back the damp chill.
She tested her phone again. “No signal,” she muttered. “Benjamin will notice we’re missing soon.”
Alexander watched as she examined his leg. “Not dislocated,” she murmured. “Fractured. I’ll need to stabilize it.”
He bore the pain in silence, his mind racing.
The Isabella he’d met years ago—composed, almost detached. The woman who had dominated him in the dim light of the cruise ship. And now, this version of her: skilled, unflinching, binding his wounds with hands that had shaped delicate ceramics.
Which one was real?
His thoughts scattered as she peeled off his soaked shirt, revealing the hard planes of his torso—and the scars that marred his skin.
Then—something clattered to the ground.
A necklace.
A single, flawless pearl set with a crimson agate.
Isabella froze.
Her fingers trembled as she picked it up. The very one she’d lost that night.
Their eyes met.
The firelight flickered, casting their tangled shadows against the cave wall. The air thickened with unspoken words.
“I’ll dry the clothes,” Isabella said abruptly, turning away.
Alexander exhaled. “I’ll tend to the fire.”
The silence between them was louder than the storm outside.
