Victor adjusted his cufflink as he stepped out of the Blackwood car, his eyes briefly scanning the Lin estate's marble gates. It was the second time he had been invited—this time, officially—to meet Isabella's family as her fiancé.
The first visit had been… unexpected.
He had arrived with every intention of cancelling the engagement arranged by their families.
But the moment he saw her…
The moment Edward Lin had called out, "Isabella, come out and meet your fiancé," and that same girl who had captivated him at the hospital and over dinner had walked down the staircase in quiet elegance—
His resolve shattered.
Now, days later, his curiosity burned even hotter. She wasn't just beautiful or intelligent. There was something dangerously unknown about her—like walking a narrow path flanked by veiled secrets and unexpected storms.
Inside the estate, the air was still, charged with formality.
Edward Lin greeted him with a strong handshake. Clarissa Lin smiled warmly—too warmly, like someone trying to make up for years of absence. And her brothers… each of them regarded Victor like a man trespassing on sacred ground.
Except Felix. The youngest. The only one who didn't hide a smirk.
"I think you know her better than we do," Felix had once muttered, half-teasing, half-curious.
Victor wasn't so sure anymore.
Isabella entered the drawing room a moment later, dressed in a simple, pale-blue blouse and tailored trousers. Modest, but breathtaking.
Her long hair was pinned back, revealing that unique pair of eyes. They were a common color—dark brown—but there was something uncommon about the clarity in them. A kind of pain woven so tightly with poise that it made her seem both ethereal and unknowable.
"Mr. Blackwood," she said politely, standing at a distance.
"Isabella," he replied, his smile softening. "I hope today won't be as tense as our last encounter."
"I wasn't aware there was tension."
He almost laughed. "Then maybe I'm imagining the icy daggers you throw with your eyes."
She tilted her head. "Some people deserve to be stabbed with a look."
"Was I one of them?"
"You kissed me without permission, remember?"
The room went quiet. Felix choked on his drink.
Victor raised both hands slightly in surrender. "Fair. But I'm still here, trying."
Edward stepped in quickly, clearing his throat. "We've planned a small lunch. Family only. Isabella, would you please show Victor to the garden?"
She didn't say yes. She didn't say no. She simply turned and walked toward the glass doors without waiting for him.
Victor followed.
They walked in silence until they reached a shaded area under the pergola. Ivy wound through its beams, and a faint breeze stirred the petals of the white lilies planted nearby.
"You don't like this, do you?" Victor asked finally.
"This?" she echoed.
"The arrangement. The engagement. Me."
Isabella looked at him then, her eyes unreadable.
"I don't like being forced," she said. "I've lived too much of my life that way."
Victor nodded slowly. "And if I said I want you to choose me freely—someday—not because of family, or legacy, but because you want to?"
She didn't answer for a long time.
Then, softly: "Then stop trying to impress me."
He blinked. "Sorry?"
"Just… be real. Stop with the charm, the perfect smiles, the expensive gifts. I don't need a CEO. I need someone who sees me when I'm invisible."
Victor's lips parted in surprise.
And for once, he didn't know what to say.
Isabella turned to leave—but paused.
Without looking back, she added, "Your grandmother is doing better. I adjusted her prescription last night. Tell the doctors to monitor her blood sugar for the next 72 hours."
Victor's eyes widened slightly. "You… were there?"
She said nothing.
By the time he realized it, she had already walked away—disappearing behind the trimmed hedges like a ghost that left only her truth behind.
And Victor, the most powerful man in the world, stood frozen in her wake.