The days after dinner blurred into one another. Business meetings, international flights, financial reports—nothing out of the ordinary. And yet, something inside Evan had changed. He found himself replaying bits of his conversation with Isabelle over and over, those words she'd casually dropped about tearing down walls, about making connections.
He was a man who had built everything he had on control. Control over his environment, control over his company, control over his emotions. Isabelle had spoken about human connection, something he had never fully understood, at least not in the way she meant. For the first time in years, Evan began questioning if he had been living in a carefully constructed bubble, one that insulated him from the very thing he had been missing.
And so, despite the busyness of his schedule, he found himself thinking about her. What she had said. The way she looked at him—not with awe, or fear, but with something else. Something that made him want to know more.
It wasn't long before the urge to see her again became impossible to ignore.
The next afternoon, he found himself on the phone with Ava.
"Schedule a meeting with Miss Hayes," he said, his tone clipped, yet deliberate. "No, not a business one. Just... something informal."
Ava didn't question him, not that she ever did. She was efficient, professional, and most importantly, she understood his preferences. Within the hour, Isabelle's assistant had confirmed a time for them to meet at one of Evan's favorite cafes, a small but exclusive place hidden in a quiet corner of the city.
Evan arrived early. He wanted to get there before she did—just to clear his mind before seeing her again. As he sat down at the corner table, the familiar buzz of the city outside felt distant, almost irrelevant. All he could focus on was the thought of their last conversation. He had been the one in control, but somehow, she had managed to slip past every barrier he had put up. She had made him feel something—a spark of curiosity, of interest—that he wasn't prepared for.
The door chimed as Isabelle walked in, her eyes scanning the room before landing on him. She smiled, the same warm, genuine smile that had caught him off guard the first time.
"Mr. Caulfield," she greeted, her voice light and casual. "I wasn't sure I was in the right place."
Evan stood to greet her, feeling a slight jolt of energy that surprised him. "Please, Isabelle. No need for formality."
As she took a seat across from him, Evan couldn't help but notice how effortlessly at ease she seemed, as though this—sitting across from a man who controlled a vast empire—was nothing out of the ordinary for her.
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything," she said, placing her bag on the chair beside her.
Evan shook his head. "Not at all. I wanted to talk. About business, but also... other things."
Her eyebrow quirked up slightly. "Other things?"
He paused, unsure of how to proceed. It wasn't as if he was unfamiliar with meetings or conversations of this nature, but with Isabelle, it was different. There was no script, no pretense. She didn't expect him to be the perfect billionaire with all the answers.
"I've been thinking," he began slowly, his voice lower than usual. "About what you said the other night. About making connections. About... humanizing the business."
Isabelle's expression softened, a quiet understanding flickering in her eyes. "And?" she asked, her tone encouraging.
Evan leaned forward, his hands resting on the table, his fingers tapping lightly against the smooth surface. "I'm not sure how to do it. I've spent so much time building walls around myself that I don't know how to tear them down, or if I even want to."
Isabelle studied him for a moment, her gaze intense but not judgmental. "You've been running your life like a business, Evan. And in business, control is everything. But in life... control doesn't work the same way. People want to feel seen. Heard. They want to know that they matter."
Evan let out a breath, the weight of her words sinking in. It wasn't something he had ever thought about. In his world, people were either useful or irrelevant. He kept them at arm's length, always calculating, always measuring. But Isabelle was right—he hadn't allowed anyone to matter.
"How do you do it?" he asked before he could stop himself. "How do you make those connections?"
She smiled softly, her eyes thoughtful. "It's not easy," she admitted. "But it starts with being vulnerable. It starts with letting people see who you really are—not the billionaire, not the businessman. Just you."
Evan shook his head slightly, the thought of exposing himself, of letting anyone truly see him, felt foreign. "And if they don't like what they see?"
Isabelle's expression grew more serious, more grounded. "Then you move on. But at least you'll know that you gave them the real you. And sometimes, that's enough."
Evan sat back in his chair, processing her words. He had always kept people at a distance for a reason—because it was easier to be untouchable. But Isabelle was challenging him, asking him to consider that maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than power and control.
"I never thought of it that way," he confessed, feeling an unfamiliar sense of vulnerability. "I've always been focused on building, on growing. I never stopped to think about... what comes next."
She leaned forward, her gaze steady but kind. "And what do you think comes next?"
He met her eyes, the uncertainty still there, but something else—a flicker of something deeper. "I don't know. But I think I'd like to find out."
Isabelle's smile returned, warmer this time. "I think that's a good start."
For the first time in a long while, Evan felt the faint stirrings of hope. He wasn't sure where this would lead or what kind of person he would be at the end of it all, but for the first time in his life, he wasn't afraid of the uncertainty. With Isabelle's words still lingering in his mind, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to let go of control. To take a chance on something real.