Page 23 of The Founder's Power

Instead, I retreat further. Into meetings. Into damage control. Into silence.

She hasn’t asked to see me, and I haven’t asked her to wait.

Mostly because I don’t know if she will.

CHAPTER11

ISABELLE

Idon’t make an appointment, and I don’t text either. I just show up.

Because if I don’t do it now, I never will.

The security at the front desk recognizes me and offers a nervous smile and a badge. Moments later, I’m stepping into the penthouse-level office that feels cold and sharp. It’s the kind of place that suits a man who has become more ghost than flesh.

Damian looks up from his desk when I enter.

He’s tired. I can see it instantly. His suit’s perfect, but his eyes are shadowed, jaw tight. Still, something flickers in them when he sees me. Regret, maybe, or possibly hope, although the latter might be wistful thinking.

I don’t give him time to use either emotion against me as I declare, “We need to talk.”

He stands, slowly. “Isabelle?—”

“No. Not later. Not ‘when the deal is done.’ Not after you circle back. Now.”

His lips press into a thin line, and he nods.

I close the door. Maybe I should’ve done that from the beginning.

I lift my chin and try to remain as composed as possible. “I don’t know what’s happening to you… or to us… but I feel like I’m standing outside a version of your life I’ll never be let into again. I’m not doing it. I’m not standing here, waiting to be noticed, waiting to matter.”

He starts to speak.

But I raise a hand to stop him. “I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to tell myself you’re just under pressure, that… that this will pass, but, Damian, I don’t feel you anymore. I don’t know what we are, and I don’t think you know either.”

His brow furrows. “This isn’t about not caring. I care, Isabelle. God, I care too much.”

“Then show me. Be honest with me. Let me in or just say it’s over, but don’t keep treating me like a placeholder for a life you’ll get around to later.”

The silence between us burns. I do my best not to suck in air now that I’ve given my speech, and I wait.

He looks down at the desk for a long time, fingers clenching around the edge like he’s trying to hold something back—emotion, maybe. Truth or fear.

I take a shaky breath. “Vincent came to me.”

That gets his attention, and his eyes flash. “Excuse me?”

“He’s been charming. Friendly. Strategic. And if you’re wondering… yes, he said things about you, about your past… about what you’re capable of.”

His voice is like gravel. “He’s manipulating you.”

I shake my head. “Funny that you would rush to say that when you’ve been with your silence. With every minute you choose control over honesty. Every time you vanish into this world of yours and leave me on the outside, wondering if I ever really belonged in the first place.” I step forward, forcing him to see the pain I’ve kept hidden until now. “This is your chance, Damian. To be real. To fight for us. Or to let me go.”

His voice is low and raw. “You think I don’t want to fight for you?”

“I think you’re afraid to bleed in front of me, and I won’t stay with a man who can’t be seen.”

Another beat of silence.

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