Rain fell softly against the wide glass windows, tracing streaks down the panes like tears the sky couldn't hold back.
Isabelle sat alone in the study, flipping through a book she couldn't read. Sebastian had left early that morning for meetings. The mansion felt too big without him too silent, too heavy with things unsaid.
She'd grown used to his presence, the steady calm he brought even when chaos burned outside their walls. But now, in the quiet, her thoughts turned restless.
Something about the night before lingered the kiss, the softness in his voice, and the shadow that flashed in his eyes when she'd asked why he was so protective.
He never answered.
He had only said, "There are things about me you're better off not knowing."
But she wanted to know. Needed to.
Because every time she peeled back a layer of him, she saw another wound beneath.
The sound of footsteps echoed faintly down the hall not the measured rhythm of Sebastian's stride, but someone lighter.
"Mrs. Hart?" It was Claire, one of the house staff. "Mr. Hale asked that no one disturb the west wing today, but I left your tea in the study."
"The west wing?" Isabelle asked, frowning.
"Yes, ma'am. The master keeps that part of the house private."
When Claire left, Isabelle's curiosity burned brighter. She'd lived in this house for weeks, yet she'd never been inside the west wing. The doors were always locked.
She told herself to ignore it. To respect his privacy.
But the voice in her head whispered otherwise. You can't trust a man who keeps his ghosts hidden.
By noon, curiosity won.
The west wing was quiet colder than the rest of the house. The air smelled faintly of dust and something old, like forgotten memories.
She walked slowly down the hall, her fingertips brushing the walls lined with framed photographs.
At first, they were of Sebastian's corporate life handshakes, gala events, boardrooms. Then they changed.
A family.
A younger Sebastian stood beside a woman with the same gray eyes and sharp features his mother, she guessed. And beside them, another man. His father.
But the last photo made her stop.
It was Sebastian, maybe ten years younger, standing beside a woman in a white dress. She was beautiful soft brown hair, delicate smile, her hand resting over his heart.
A label on the frame read: Eleanor.
Isabelle's breath caught.
Before she could move, a voice behind her said quietly, "You shouldn't be in here."
She spun around.
Sebastian stood at the end of the hall, expression unreadable. The rain outside cast shadows across his face, half light, half darkness.
"I was just"
"Looking for answers," he finished for her.
Her throat tightened. "You never told me about her."
He walked toward her slowly, every step measured. "Because she's gone."
"Gone?"
He nodded once. "Dead."
The word hit like ice.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to intrude, I just"
"You wanted to know who I was before you," he said quietly. "Now you do."
Her voice softened. "Who was she?"
He looked past her, eyes distant. "My wife."
The world seemed to tilt. "Wife?"
He gave a small, bitter smile. "It was a long time ago. Before the company, before the tabloids, before I learned that love can destroy more than it heals."
"Sebastian"
"She died in a car crash," he said, voice flat. "Someone tampered with the brakes. The police called it an accident. I called it murder."
Her heart broke at the quiet rage beneath his words. "You think someone wanted her dead?"
"I know someone did."
He stepped closer, eyes dark. "The man I believe responsible was Daniel's father."
Isabelle's world froze.
"What?"
Sebastian's gaze met hers. "Hale Industries wasn't always mine. My father and Daniel's father were business partners until greed tore them apart. Contracts were stolen, accounts drained. And then my wife died."
Her pulse hammered. "You think my ex-fiancé's family killed your wife?"
"I think his father had enemies. And when he couldn't touch me in business, he found another way."
She stared at him, trying to process it all. "Sebastian, that's that's impossible."
"Is it?" he said coldly. "Your wedding was ruined because someone leaked your private messages to the press. The same tactics. The same destruction. Your humiliation wasn't random, Isabelle. It was planned."
The room seemed to shrink around her. "You're saying Daniel"
"I'm saying," he cut in, "that Daniel's family has a history of ruining lives to protect their empire. I wasn't going to let them do it again."
Her chest tightened. "That's why you interfered with my engagement, isn't it?"
He hesitated.
The silence was answer enough.
Her voice trembled. "Sebastian what did you do?"
He ran a hand through his hair, the mask slipping. "I didn't mean for it to happen this way. When I saw how Daniel treated you, I"
"You what?" she demanded.
"I made sure his secrets reached the right ears. I didn't expect him to humiliate you in public, but I wanted him exposed."
Her heart shattered. "You leaked those messages?"
He met her eyes and didn't deny it.
The ground fell away beneath her. "You destroyed my wedding."
"I saved you from a man who would've destroyed your life."
"You decided that for me?" she cried. "You played God with my future, Sebastian!"
His voice rose. "I did what I had to do!"
"Because of your past?" she shot back. "Because you lost someone once, you decided to control everyone else?"
His expression twisted pain, anger, regret. "You don't understand"
"I understand perfectly," she said, tears streaming. "You're not protecting me. You're protecting your ghosts."
He took a slow, unsteady breath. "If I hadn't interfered, he would've hurt you."
"And now you've done it instead."
Her words struck deep. He flinched, the fight draining out of him.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Finally, she whispered, "You should've told me the truth."
"I wanted to," he said quietly. "But every time I look at you, I see what I could lose again."
Her heart ached but the trust between them cracked.
Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the dark hallway with the ghost of his past staring down from the walls.
That night, Isabelle lay awake, her thoughts a storm.
She finally understood the fire behind Sebastian's eyes it was guilt. It was grief.
And yet he'd stolen her choice in the name of love.
Part of her wanted to run.
Part of her wanted to stay.
When dawn broke, she packed her bag.
Downstairs, Sebastian stood at the base of the stairs, as if he'd known she would.
"Leaving?" he asked softly.
"I need to breathe," she said.
He nodded, but his voice was tight. "Will you come back?"
She hesitated. "I don't know."
He stepped closer, stopping inches away. His voice cracked for the first time. "Isabelle, I can't lose you too."
Her heart trembled. "Then stop trying to own me."
She brushed past him and walked into the sunlight.
He watched her go the woman who had unknowingly become his second chance, walking out of his fortress with his heart still in her hands.
When the door closed, he turned toward the west wing again.
Toward Eleanor's picture.
"I broke her," he murmured, voice raw. "Now I've broken you too.