Isabella spent the rest of the day in a haze, Leon King's warning echoing in her mind like a dark mantra. "Only the strongest survive." His words had carried a weight that was hard to shake, but it wasn't just the threat that unsettled her—it was the unspoken promise behind it.
As dusk began to fall, she stood alone in her office, the sprawling skyline of the city illuminated below her. The glass window reflected her tall, elegant figure, her long dark brown hair framing her face, which was still etched with the resolve from earlier that day. But beneath her steely exterior, something was stirring—an uncertainty she hadn't felt in a long time.
Isabella had always prided herself on being in control, always ten steps ahead of her competition. But Leon King was different. He had come into her world with the force of a storm, disrupting everything in his path. She could feel the shift, like the ground beneath her feet was moving, and she wasn't sure how to stop it.
Her phone buzzed on the desk, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen. It was a message from her father's assistant, Christine.
Christine: Your father is awake. He's asking for you.
Isabella's chest tightened. Her father had been in and out of consciousness for weeks now, his health deteriorating faster than anyone had anticipated. She hadn't wanted to burden him with the complications of the business, but with Leon's sudden appearance, she was beginning to feel the weight of the empire pressing down on her more than ever.
Isabella quickly grabbed her coat and headed for the door. The elevator ride down felt endless, her mind swirling with thoughts of her father and the looming battle with Leon. She had to stay strong—for her family, for the business, for herself.
When she arrived at the hospital, the sterile smell of antiseptic hit her as soon as she stepped through the sliding doors. The lights in the hallway were dim, casting long shadows on the white walls. She made her way to her father's room, her heels clicking softly against the tile floor.
Pushing open the door, she saw him lying in bed, his once robust frame now gaunt and frail. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. Her heart clenched at the sight of him.
"Dad…" she whispered as she approached the bedside, placing a hand gently on his arm.
His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, there was a spark of recognition in them. He looked up at her, his expression softening.
"Isabella," he rasped, his voice weak but filled with warmth.
"I'm here," she said, her throat tightening with emotion.
He reached out, his hand trembling as it grasped hers. "The company… how is it?"
She hesitated, her mind racing. How much should she tell him? Could he handle the truth in his condition?
"It's… complicated," she admitted, squeezing his hand gently. "But I'm handling it."
Her father's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes searching hers. "Leon King… he's making a move, isn't he?"
Isabella's stomach dropped. Of course her father knew. Even from his hospital bed, he was still in tune with the pulse of the business.
"Yes," she said quietly. "He's trying to take over Harrington Industries."
Her father let out a weak sigh, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. "I knew this day would come… His father and I… we have a history."
Isabella's heart skipped a beat. She had heard whispers of a rivalry between the Kings and the Harringtons, but her father had always been tight-lipped about the details.
"What happened between you two?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her father's gaze shifted back to her, a shadow of pain crossing his features. "It's a long story… one I should have told you a long time ago. But I didn't want you to carry the weight of the past."
Isabella leaned in closer, her pulse quickening. "Tell me, Dad. I need to know."
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering the strength to speak. When he opened them again, there was a haunted look in his eyes.
"Leon's father, Richard King, and I were business partners many years ago," he began, his voice growing weaker with each word. "We built something great together, but greed… it changes people. Richard wanted more—he always wanted more. He tried to take control of the company we'd built, and when I refused, he… he betrayed me."
Isabella's mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of the story. "What did he do?"
Her father's grip on her hand tightened, his face contorted in pain. "He sabotaged our business, destroyed everything we'd worked for. I lost so much because of him—my fortune, my reputation… your mother…"
Isabella's breath caught in her throat. "Mom?"
Her father nodded weakly. "She was caught in the middle of it all. She… she paid the price for my mistakes."
Tears welled up in Isabella's eyes, the weight of her father's words crashing down on her like a tidal wave. All this time, she had believed her mother's death had been an accident. But now, it seemed there was more to the story—so much more.
Before she could ask more, her father's eyes began to flutter closed again, his energy spent.
"I'm sorry, Isabella…" he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry…"
Isabella sat there, frozen, as her father drifted back into unconsciousness. The room felt impossibly small, the walls closing in on her. She had come here to find strength, to remind herself of why she was fighting. But now, everything she thought she knew was unraveling before her eyes.
Leon King wasn't just a rival. He was the son of the man who had destroyed her father's life, the man who had been responsible for her mother's death.
Isabella stood up slowly, her legs trembling beneath her. She walked over to the window and stared out at the city lights, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, and the picture they painted was darker than she had ever imagined.
Leon had to have known. He must have known about their families' past. And yet, he had come after her company anyway, determined to finish what his father had started.
Her chest tightened with a mixture of anger and betrayal. She had been right to distrust him from the beginning. He wasn't just after her company—he was after revenge.
But if Leon thought she would back down, he was sorely mistaken. Isabella Harrington didn't run from a fight.
As she stood there, her resolve hardened. She would uncover the truth about what had happened to her family, and she would make Leon pay for everything.
But first, she needed to confront him. She needed answers.
Isabella pulled out her phone and dialed the number she had been avoiding all day. The line rang twice before a familiar, smooth voice answered.
"Miss Harrington," Leon said, his tone cool and calculated. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Isabella's heart pounded in her chest, but she forced her voice to remain steady.
"We need to talk," she said, her words laced with a cold fury.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Leon responded, his voice dripping with intrigue.
"I look forward to it."