Chapter 5

Isolde's POV

Liora stood just inside the chain-link gate, a pristine vision in a tailored pale-gray coat and stilettos. In a freight yard reeking of diesel, rust, and brine, she was a glaring anomaly. Her gaze drifted lazily over my dust-caked jeans and the clipboard in my hand, before settling on my crew eating lunch on the concrete. She didn’t bother masking her amusement.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect you to end up here," she said. "I figured once you left the Hales, you'd at least land somewhere respectable."

I watched her heels sink into the gravel. I felt no anger—only a hollow, sub-zero calm. "Watching you hijack my schedule, my home, and my husband’s trust was an education, Liora. It taught me exactly what ambition looks like when it wears the mask of loyalty."

Her smug smile shattered. Before she could fire back, the heavy thud of a car door echoed across the yard. Kieran strode out from behind a black sedan, crunching over the gravel toward us.

Liora pivoted in a heartbeat. Her shoulders curled inward, her voice shrinking into something small and fragile. "Mr. Hale, I only came to tell her how worried you've been. I thought it might calm her down. I swear I didn't mean to upset her."

Kieran’s eyes locked onto me. Between my messy knot of hair, paper-cut hands, and the fine layer of port dust coating my skin, there was zero trace left of the polished Mrs. Hale who used to grace his galas.

"Isolde," he murmured, his tone pitched low. "You're working in a freight yard now? And where's Caspian? You dumped him at your mother's just so you could come out here and play martyr?" He reached for my arm. "Come home. You’ve made your point."

I stepped back, letting his hand drop. Around us, the crew had stopped chewing. Our corner of the port fell dead quiet.

"Liora meant well," Kieran said, sighing as his gaze swept over the makeshift field office and stacked shipping containers. Disgust flared in his eyes. "You don't belong in dirt like this. Grab your things. The car's waiting."

A woman from my crew leaned close, her voice a rough whisper. "Is that your husband?"

I kept my eyes pinned to Kieran and didn't bother lowering my voice. "Ex-husband. The ink just isn't dry yet."

Liora flinched. Kieran immediately stepped into my space, using his frame to block the crew’s stares. "Do not talk about us like that in front of strangers," he hissed.

"Then stop treating me like property you can just box up and take back." I held his stare, letting the absolute finality bleed into my words. "And if you want to see Caspian, you can find him at Westview Cemetery."

That snapped the last of his patience. "Fine. You won't listen to me? Listen to his doctor." He yanked his phone from his pocket, swiped to dial, and hit speaker.

Blood drained from Liora’s face. She lurched forward, grabbing his wrist. "Mr. Hale, wait! This is a family matter. Do we really need to do this here—"

Kieran shook her off without a glance.

"Havenbrook Hospital."

"This is Kieran Hale. Put me through to Dr. Salerno." The line rang, his glare boring into me, daring me to flinch. When the line clicked, he didn't hesitate. "Dr. Salerno. I need you to tell my wife—right now—that Caspian had a routine febrile seizure and that he is perfectly fine. Tell her to stop torturing herself, and to stop torturing me."

Kieran crossed his arms, waiting for my delusions to finally crack.

Instead, an agonizing silence stretched over the line. When the doctor finally spoke, his voice was hollowed out by pure disbelief, echoing loudly enough for the entire yard to hear.

"Mr. Hale... I'm sorry, what? Caspian passed away that night. When he arrived, we had a window to save him. But the funds never cleared. Without that payment... we lost the window."