Reborn to Reclaim: The Boss Who Never Forgot

　　Isla POV

　　Tomorrow was supposed to be the best day of my life. That's what everyone calls it. The day two people become one. The most exciting day for a young lady like me.

　　But sitting alone in my hotel room, all I felt was incoming dread. I didn't understand why such a feeling was taking over my body. I should be ecstatic, happy, and glad. I was about to marry the love of my life and start a family.

　　But as I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn't recognize myself.

　　I stared at my now-short blonde hair. Ronan's preferred style. He had made me cut it short.

　　"Long hair makes women too independent," he'd told me once. "It'll get in the way of starting a family."

　　And now I had lost my favorite feature of myself. My long golden blonde hair, gone.

　　Six years I'd given this man my whole life, and somehow I kept shrinking to fit his expectations.

　　I quit my job at Vale Groups. I dropped my ambitions and my career, and smiled through every humiliation he and my adopted family threw at me.

　　I even helped him with the company and all the success he had gained… but I didn't remember him thanking me for my efforts, or even offering me a top position in his office.

　　He took all the credit.

　　All for a proposal that only came after my parents wore him down.

　　I needed to see Vivienne, my little sister. My best and only friend. She was the only thing that was nice to me. Just seeing her face and smile always made things manageable.

　　I left my room and walked the quiet hallway toward the suite she'd borrowed to get ready.

　　I stopped as I saw Ronan's shoe was outside the door. The ones I'd bought him. I frowned, confused as to why it would be in front of Vivienne's hotel room.

　　The door was open a bit.

　　From inside came sounds that made my chest hurt: low, ragged breaths. The sounds of two bodies moving together.

　　"Vivienne… you feel so good…" Ronan's voice, slurred.

　　My heart stopped. I couldn't move.

　　"Harder, Ronan!" Vivienne called out. "I'm not Isla! I can handle you!"

　　I blinked. My vision blurred. My sister. My fiancé. Together.

　　Ronan had never been… like this with me. He was always distant, even in intimacy. I just thought he was one of those people who weren't into sex and maybe showed his affection through other things.

　　But this—this was real. And he was having it with my sister.

　　This wasn't real. It couldn't be. Vivienne… she wouldn't…

　　When the sounds finally faded, Vivienne's voice drifted through the gap, soft and casual.

　　"You really should leave her, Ronan… she's so clingy. Always needing someone there. I don't know why you put up with it."

　　Ronan chuckled. "I know… but it's complicated. She… isn't easy to walk away from."

　　"Complicated… right," Vivienne said. "Or maybe you just don't want to hurt her. She's so lonely. What if she falls apart? Acts unstable when you leave?"

　　"You know I wouldn't be shocked if she hurt herself at the thought of losing you," she added.

　　I had propped this man up for six years. His investors were my contacts. His clients were my introductions. His company existed because of my sleepless nights. And here he was, letting my sister call me clingy while he lay in her bed the night before our wedding.

　　I pushed the door open.

　　Ronan scrambled up, grabbing the bedsheet, eyes wide with shock before turning cold.

　　"Isla—"

　　"How long?" I asked, my voice steady, as I tried to contain my tears.

　　Vivienne sat on the bed. She let her lip tremble, letting the tears come out in a fake weep.

　　"It's my fault," she croaked. "I'm so sorry, Isla. It just happened. You were always so busy and I only wanted—"

　　I crossed the room and slapped her clean across the face, making her gasp in shock.

　　The sound rang through the air.

　　One second Ronan was across the room. Then his hand landed across my face so hard that I hit the floor hard, the impact hurting my entire body. My ears were ringing from the slap.

　　The pain was bad. But I had never expected my fiancé to hit me. I knew he had some anger issues before this, but he had never hit me.

　　I pressed my palm to the carpet, pushed myself upright, and stood.

　　"Don't," he said, chest heaving in anger, fists still clenched at his sides. "Don't you ever put your hands on her."

　　"Your company," I declared, voice shaking. "Every investor came through me. Every major client. Every back-channel deal. I have the records, Ronan. All of it. Every contract with my name on it. I will burn it to the ground."

　　The fury on his face left. Just enough to see the fear underneath.

　　"Let's be rational." He straightened, slipping into the smooth boardroom voice I'd heard a hundred times. "You're upset. Fine. But destroying the business destroys what you built too. Walk away clean and I'll make sure you're taken care of. You won't lose anything."

　　"I don't want your money."

　　"Isla—"

　　"I want your company in ruins." I held his gaze. "I want every person who ever invested in you to know exactly who you are."

　　His expression hardened. "You're being irrational."

　　"I'm being very rational."

　　I felt pain moving through my veins and my body, so much pain. My legs were shaking from it.

　　I grabbed the wall, my vision blurry. My hand slid to my nose, and then I felt it: a warm liquid on my upper lip.

　　I brought my hand down and stared at the blood on my fingers.

　　"Something's wrong," I said, fear clinging to my skin.

　　I slid down the wall, groaning, and hit the floor. This time I couldn't get back up.

　　"Ronan." My voice came out small and frightened. "Something is wrong. Please. Help me."

　　He looked down at me and didn't move.

　　"Here's what's going to happen," he said quietly, crouching to my level. "You drop everything. The business, the threats, all of it. You sign whatever I put in front of you. You do that, and I'll get you help. That's the deal."

　　I looked up at him through my blurring vision.

　　"Your business," I whispered, "will be gone before the year ends. I promise you that."

　　He stood up and stepped back.

　　He stared down at me and did nothing. His face blank, without a care for me.

　　The room was fading. My body felt far away. I was genuinely scared, and I did what I'd always done when I was scared.

　　I turned to my sister.

　　"Vivi—"

　　She was already looking at me, and the smile on her face stopped every thought in my head.

　　Not concern. Not panic. And not the horror of watching someone you love die in front of you.

　　Just a quiet satisfaction. Her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes moving over me with something almost like relief.

　　Like she'd been waiting.

　　Like she'd been waiting for a very long time.

　　She did something.

　　My best friend. My sister. The only person I'd never once thought to question.

　　She had done this. Why? Betraying me by sleeping with my fiancé was one thing. But doing something to kill me was another.

　　The darkness pressed in on my eyes, and the last thing I felt wasn't rage at Ronan. It wasn't even pain.

　　It was the specific, devastating grief of understanding that the person you loved most in the world had never loved you back at all.