The moment Isabella stepped into her apartment, Olivia practically pounced on her.
“Isabella! Thank heavens you’re alive!” Olivia’s voice trembled with relief, her hands clutching Isabella’s shoulders as if afraid she might vanish. “Do you have any idea how many times I called you last night? I nearly turned the city upside down looking for you! If that cruise hadn’t been stranded at sea, I would’ve had the entire police force on your trail!”
Her frantic energy softened slightly when she noticed the faint marks peeking out from beneath Isabella’s collar. Olivia’s eyes narrowed, curiosity sparking. “Wait a damn minute… Did something happen last night?”
Isabella patted her shoulder dismissively. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just spent the night with someone. No big deal.”
Olivia’s jaw dropped. “Ohhh, so that’s why you ghosted me! Didn’t want me interrupting your little escapade, huh?”
Now that she knew Isabella wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere, Olivia’s panic melted into playful mischief. She grabbed Isabella’s wrist, eyes gleaming. “Spill. Right now. Who was he? Was he hot? Did he at least buy you breakfast?”
Isabella rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “Let go. It was… chaotic.”
She gave Olivia a quick rundown of the night—how the man had moved like a predator, how his touch had burned into her skin, how he’d been dangerous in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “Gorgeous, sure. But the kind of guy you don’t stick around to ask questions about. If I hadn’t been in a rush to finalize the divorce, I might’ve been stupid enough to stay longer.”
Olivia’s grin turned wicked. “Sounds like you’re a little too into him. Bet he put all those boring suits I set you up with to shame.” She sighed dramatically. “Why do you get all the fun?”
Their banter was easy, familiar, but beneath it, Olivia’s sharp eyes caught the tension still coiled in Isabella’s shoulders. With a softer tone, she brushed a hand through Isabella’s hair. “Don’t worry. I’ve already got people scrubbing any footage. No way you’re getting dragged into whatever mess he’s in.”
Isabella shrugged, but Olivia knew better. A man like that meant trouble, and she wasn’t about to let her best friend walk into it blind.
“It’s fine,” Isabella muttered, rolling her stiff shoulders. “Anything important happen at the event last night? Was the CEO of Charisma there?”
Olivia shook her head. “Same old crowd. The usual snakes, all circling each other. The CEO didn’t show—probably saving his grand entrance for later.” Then her expression brightened. “But guess what? The Fourth International Perfume Competition is kicking off soon. Everett Group’s backing it, and the winners get full brand launches under their sponsorship. Huge deal.”
Isabella’s interest sharpened. A stage for giants, indeed.
Olivia leaned in, grinning. “Here’s the kicker: Charisma’s CEO is judging. Rumor has it he’s got a signature scent—something impossible to replicate. And this year? All finalists have to reveal their identities. So if you enter…”
“You’ll run right into him,” Isabella finished, pulse quickening.
Olivia winked. “Now, how are you gonna thank me for this golden intel?”
Isabella’s mind raced. If he was involved, their paths would cross again. “You’re sure about this?”
“Please. I already snagged the registration forms.” Olivia flicked her hair over her shoulder. “First you ditch me for a mystery man, now you doubt my skills? Rude.”
Isabella scoffed, grabbing a pillow and flopping onto the couch. “Fine. If you’ve rolled out the red carpet, I’m walking it. And I will make the finals.”
Olivia raised a brow. “Confident, aren’t we?”
“Isn’t that my brand?” Isabella stretched, wincing at the lingering soreness. “But first—shower. Then sleep.”
Her thoughts drifted to tomorrow’s meeting with Ethan’s grandfather, William Blackwood. The idea of Ethan and Sophia cozying up during the divorce made her stomach twist.
As she headed to the bathroom, she couldn’t resist mimicking Sophia’s saccharine voice. “Olivia, darling, you don’t mind if I shower here, do you? We’re just friends, right?”
Olivia hurled a pillow at her. “Ugh, stop! You sound like a bad rom-com villain!”
Steam filled the bathroom as hot water sluiced over Isabella’s skin, washing away the night’s remnants. The marks were still there—faint but undeniable. The man had been a force of nature, leaving her equal parts exhilarated and unsettled.
Maybe she should’ve kept the cash instead of tipping him.
Yet, despite herself, she couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes—dark, unreadable, like they held secrets worth killing for.
