Isla POV

The changing room was small and quiet as I stepped in with the dress in my hands.

The consultant helped me into it without speaking, fastening the back with careful hands. The satin settled against my body, cool and smooth.

I stood before the small mirror inside.

I barely recognised myself.

The mermaid cut followed every curve I had spent years hiding under loose shirts and safe choices. The bow at the shoulders was dramatic. The fabric caught the light like it had somewhere important to be.

I pushed my glasses up and exhaled slowly.

Then I stepped out.

I walked toward my family, the consultant following quietly behind me. They were all settled, eyes on their phones, already moved on from waiting.

I stepped up onto the platform.

I heard my mother's sharp inhale before I saw anyone's face.

My father looked up from his phone and went completely still, staring with open surprise.

And Ronan.

He had gone very still. I could see his gaze in the mirror, his eyes slowly tracing the dress where it clung to my body. I focused on giving instructions to the consultant. I had spent years being quietly pleased when he looked at me like that.

Not anymore.

I turned slightly and that was when I noticed Vivienne.

Her hands had gone pale where they gripped each other in her lap. Her eyes were fixed on Ronan's expression, her jaw tight.

She caught herself quickly.

"Oh my goodness." She stood and came to take my hand warmly. "The dress suits you so well." She paused, tilting her head with gentle concern. "But are you sure you like it? You know how you prefer not to be the centre of attention. It's a bit overwhelming don't you think?"

"I agree," my mother said immediately, finding her footing behind Vivienne's lead. "It's too much for you. Go pick another one."

"I'm picking this one," I said pleasantly, turning to Ronan. "What do you think darling?"

Ronan blinked out of his daze. "What?"

"Isn't it too much for Isla, Ronan?" My mother pressed. "I don't understand why she wants to upstage you."

Ronan's jaw tightened. "The dress is fine."

My mother's eyebrows lifted slightly before she rearranged herself into a respectful smile. "Of course. Whatever you think is best."

I almost smiled.

Soon enough they would know exactly what he was.

"Good," I said simply. "We should wrap this up. I have work to finish."

Vivienne glanced at me. Just for a moment her eyes were completely cold before she covered it smoothly.

"What about the bridesmaids dresses?" Vivienne said lightly.

I glanced at her from the platform, still in the dress, the satin smooth against my body.

"You've been a bridesmaid so many times I'm sure you know exactly what works." I smiled pleasantly. "I trust your judgment completely."

A beat.

"The payment goes on my future husband's card." I turned back to the consultant. "Could you help me out of this please."

I didn't wait for a response before walking back toward the changing room.

But I caught it anyway.

The smile staying perfectly on Vivienne's face while something underneath it went very still. Her eyes following me with that particular quiet that meant she was recalculating.

She had been a bridesmaid four times.

Always the dress. Never the aisle.

And I had just made sure the whole room was thinking about that without saying it directly.

I stepped into the changing room and let the door close behind me.

The smile I had been holding back finally came.

----

We finally finished the fitting and I couldn't wait to get home.

I needed to start thinking about a proper escape plan. Not just from my family but from the office too. From Gerald. From Lucian. From all of it.

I just wanted a cottage somewhere quiet. A garden. Trees. Myself and no other human ever making me feel like less again.

Proper plans needed to take place.

We stepped out of the boutique into the afternoon light.

"That was fun." My father smiled, shaking Ronan's hand warmly. "We really appreciate you making the time. We know how busy you are."

"Once he's married into the family we can see him practically every day," Vivienne said smoothly, appearing at my father's side.

Whoever brought me back clearly had a sense of humour.

"Ronan you must come for dinner," my mother said. "We've made so much food. Come now, straight from here."

Ronan stood beside me and said nothing for a moment.

Then "Not tonight. Thank you."

I blinked.

He always said yes. He loved the warmth they gave him, the deference, the way my parents looked at him like he was something. He had never once turned down an invitation from them.

"I need to drop Isla home," he said. "We have something to take care of together."

He took my hand.

"Yes," I said carefully. "We do."

"Of course, we won't keep you." My father turned to me with a small smile. "I'm glad you picked that dress. It was different from what you'd usually choose." He paused. "I suppose you're becoming a new woman."

I turned my face away.

He meant it kindly. He always did. It had never been enough.

He noticed. I saw his expression shift; surprise, then something close to guilt but he let it pass without a word. His eyes followed me with a few uncertain glances as Ronan steered me toward the car.

"We'll see you later," Ronan said, already moving.

I let him pull me forward.

I glanced back once.

Vivienne stood behind my parents, her hands folded neatly, watching Ronan's hand in mine.

Just that. Just watching.

He opened the passenger door without a word and I got in. He took the driver's seat and pulled out of the lot before anyone had finished waving goodbye.

The silence in the car sat differently from this morning.

I watched his hands on the wheel and said nothing.

In six years I had always known what Ronan wanted from me. His moods, his needs, his expectations. I had learned to read all of it without being told.

I didn't know anymore.

And that made him dangerous.

Isla POV

We arrived at my apartment complex, a simple but safe neighbourhood.

Ronan cut the engine and got out. I took a slow breath before following.

I watched him as we climbed the stairs, trying to read him. He was blank and quiet, scrolling his phone while he waited for me to unlock the door like he had somewhere better to be.

I didn't understand this man.

I pushed the door open and we stepped inside. The apartment was quiet, evening light coming through the blinds in thin strips across the floor.

I set Vivienne's tin of tea on the kitchen counter and exhaled slowly.

I needed to go through it properly later. Check the ingredients. Check everything.

I glanced at Ronan, waiting to see what he wanted.

His hand caught my wrist.

Hard.

He pulled me back and pressed me against the wall before I could react, his body blocking mine completely. I froze, heart jumping into my throat.

Then he kissed me.

Not the way he usually did - distant, mechanical, something to be endured. This was different. Hard and bruising, his hand gripping my waist pulling me flush against him, his other hand cupping my face, his tongue pushing for access.

He had never kissed me like this. In six years he had never once been the one to reach for me first.

My stomach turned.

These were the same lips. The same hands. The ones I had seen on my sister through a door left slightly open in another life.

His fingers moved to my waistband.

I shoved him.

Both hands flat against his chest, hard enough that he stumbled back a step. He stood there breathing heavily, lips red, staring at me with an expression caught between shock and anger.

"What's wrong with you?" he said.

"I'm tired," I said. My voice came out steady. I pressed my hands flat against my thighs and held his gaze.

Ronan's jaw tightened. He took one step closer and I made myself stay still.

"What is wrong with you lately?" His voice dropped low and sharp. "I reach for you and you shove me away like I'm nothing."

I said nothing.

His face went red.

"So who is he?"

I stared at him. "What?"

"You've been distant for weeks. Acting strange. He must be someone in that office of yours."

"You're accusing me of cheating," I said quietly.

"Am I wrong?"

I said nothing.

That was the wrong answer apparently.

He laughed, short and humourless and stepped closer. "Nothing to say? That's interesting."

I held my ground, trying to hide my lingering fear.

"You've been walking around for past days like I don't exist." His voice was rising now. "Cold. Distant. Pushing me away tonight like I disgust you."

He tilted his head. "So I'll ask again. Who is he."

"There's no one," I said simply.

"Then why are you acting like a completely different person?" he snapped. "The Isla I know doesn't push back. Doesn't talk back. Doesn't stand there looking at me like I'm beneath her."

I didn't answer.

And that was what angered him.

His fist hit the wall beside my head.

The sound cracked through the apartment. The hole on the wall too close to my face.

I felt the impact of the plaster on my back.

I didn't move. Didn't flinch. I kept my eyes on his face and said nothing.

Something shifted in his expression; he had expected the usual tears and apologies from me.

But I won't be giving him that any longer.

"I don't know what you want me to say Ronan," I said quietly.

He stared at me for a long moment.

Then he grabbed his keys from the counter and walked out. The door slammed behind him hard enough to shake the frame photo beside it. The photo fell and hit the floor.

I stood completely still for a few seconds.

Then my legs became weak.

I caught the counter with both hands and held on, my knuckles white against the marble. My whole body was shaking now - properly, uncontrollably, the kind of shaking I had been holding back since his hand first caught my wrist.

I pressed my forehead to the cabinet and just breathed.

He hadn't touched me.

He hadn't touched me and I was still shaking like he had.

I stayed like that until my legs felt like mine again.

Then I straightened. Pushed my glasses up. Walked to where the photo had fallen and picked it up.

The glass had shattered. I picked the photo out from the broken frame, careful of the shards.

Ronan and I were smiling in it, it was from years ago, before we started dating, before I knew who he would become.

I put the photo in the bin. Then I swept up the glass.

I turned back to the counter and stood staring at Vivienne's tin.

My phone buzzed.

I picked it up with still-unsteady hands and opened the notification.

A mandatory meeting. Lucian Vale and all department teams required to attend on Monday.

I stared at the screen until my breathing evened out.

That hadn't happened in my first life.

Isla POV

It was Monday and I stood watching my department prepare for the meeting with Lucian. I wasn't the only one panicking.

The meeting had come completely out of nowhere.

Gerald was visibly nervous, taking his frustration out on a nearby coworker, sweating and muttering under his breath as he paced. Every few seconds his eyes darted to the closed meeting room door like he was waiting for something he already knew was coming.

He caught me watching him.

"What are you looking at? Get prepared!" He snapped, turning away before I could respond.

Obviously still furious about my refusal to do his extra work.

I watched him go.

Now that I thought about it - could that be why this meeting was called?

We were called in shortly after.

---

We all settled into the large meeting room, every member of my department present, eyes fixed on the empty seat at the head of the table.

The door opened.

Every head turned.

But it wasn't Lucian.

A tall woman stepped inside - dark brown skin, long natural hair, an easy confidence in the way she carried herself. But despite that confidence she looked slightly bashful as she scanned the room.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I'm new. I was told I needed to be here."

I blinked.

I had never seen her before. Not in this life and not in my last one.

The future was already shifting. Things were changing that I hadn't anticipated.

She scanned the room and her eyes landed on me - seated alone, empty chairs on either side, the way I always ended up. She walked over without hesitation and sat beside me.

I froze.

Someone had voluntarily sat beside me.

"Hello!" she said brightly.

I didn't know what to do with her energy. She was confident and warm and drawing every eye in the room without trying - the kind of person who walked into a space and immediately belonged in it.

She reminded me of Vivienne.

I hoped she wasn't.

She glanced around the room at the visible tension and leaned slightly toward me.

"Is it always like this?" she whispered.

"Only when someone's about to get fired," I said quietly.

She blinked. Then a small smile crossed her face like she was trying not to laugh.

I glanced across the room. Vivienne had already noticed us. Our eyes met briefly and she gave me a small wave that didn't reach her eyes.

I looked away.

I just needed this meeting to start.

On cue the door opened.

Lucian walked in, laptop in hand, expression unreadable. He took his seat without greeting anyone, opened his documents and scanned them in silence.

The room held its breath.

"I'm sure you're all aware of the upcoming business gala," he said finally.

The gala. The same one Ronan had used to launch himself in my last life. The one I had quietly built his entire pitch for and watched him walk away with investors while I sat at home.

Not this time.

Lucian leaned forward, his eyes settling on Gerald.

"The documents prepared for this event are not sufficient. The quality doesn't meet the standard I expect for investor presentations." He turned the folder over on the table. "Mr Marsh. Can you explain this."

I went rigid in my seat.

The girl beside me noticed. "You okay?" she whispered.

I nodded without answering.

"My apologies Sir." Gerald straightened. "I'll speak to my team and we can redo everything-"

"It isn't the team's work." Lucian cut him off quietly. "I placed you in this position because of your attention to detail Mr Marsh. The quality has dropped significantly compared to your previous submissions."

He paused. "Did you delegate this work to someone else?"

Silence.

I pressed my lips together.

More like he had never done his own work and I had been doing all of it for years.

Then Gerald spoke.

"My apologies." He didn't look at me. Didn't hesitate. "I delegated the work to Miss Montclair."

Every head in the room turned toward me.

I sat completely still, my face calm while my mind went blank with the sheer audacity of it.

I had not touched a single one of his documents.

"Isla was helping with his work this past week," Vivienne added from across the table, her voice soft with manufactured concern, a small apologetic tilt of her head in my direction. "I'm sure she did her best."

Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table.

I opened my mouth.

"I don't remember Mr Vale asking you anything."

The new girl beside me spoke first, arms folded, voice completely calm.

"Very unprofessional to jump in without letting her speak." she added.

I blinked. Someone had come to my defence for the first time and she didn't even know me.

Vivienne looked genuinely thrown. "I - I was only sharing what I observed."

"Well she's not wrong," a coworker said, glancing between Gerald and Lucian. "Isla was always the one doing Mr Marsh's extra work."

Silence.

Gerald flinched.

Lucian tilted his head slowly. "She was doing your work?" His voice dropped. "For how long."

Gerald paled. "It was only for this one Sir-"

"No." I heard my own voice before I decided to use it. "I didn't work on that document Mr Vale. But the previous ones - he always made me work on them. If you want I can show you evidence. I have records of my hours and research."

I pressed my hand over my mouth, shocked by my own outburst.

The room was very quiet.

"I see." Lucian's gaze moved back to Gerald. "So Mr Marsh before Miss Montclair produces that evidence. Who worked on these documents? The current ones and the previous submissions. I don't tolerate dishonesty from people who have worked for me for years."

Gerald had gone completely white.

"I - I worked on this one Sir," he said. "She only helped a little with the previous ones."

"A little," Lucian repeated. He looked down at the document in front of him. "This is what happens when someone does a little."

He closed the folder. "I'm grateful I reviewed this before it reached our competitors."

Gerald opened his mouth. "I've just been so busy Sir - I'm a father, a husband, I have so much going on-"

"Enough." Lucian cut him off and turned his gaze to Vivienne. "And your comment earlier?"

Vivienne blinked. Then she smiled warm, and soft, with the full performance. "I apologise. I may have been mistaken."

She tilted her head with that particular charm that had never once failed her in a room full of people.

Lucian looked at her for exactly one second.

Then he rolled his eyes.

The room went completely still.

I felt my hands shaking in my lap.

His gaze moved to me.

I flinched under the directness of it.

"So you're the one who produced the previous work."

I nodded, warmth rising in my face. "Yes Sir."

"I'm very impressed." He paused. "Though not entirely surprised. You graduated top of your class."

I stared at him. He knew about that. Had he looked that up. "T-Thank you Sir."

He looked back down at his documents.

"You'll be accompanying me to the gala."