Everett studied her for a long moment long enough that the silence pressed in.
He leaned back slightly.
"No."
The word landed flat. Final.
Isadora's expression didn't change, but her fingers flexed once at her sides.
"May I ask why?" she said, still calm.
Everett tapped one finger on the desk slow, deliberate.
"You've done well lately. I'll give you that. Meetings. Results. No headlines screaming your name. But therapy with that doctor?"
He shook his head once.
"The same one from the club footage. The same one you were screaming at on the sidewalk like a lovesick fool. You think I'm blind? You think I don't know why you're suddenly so eager for 'recovery'?"
Isadora met his gaze without flinching.
"It's professional care. She's the best in addiction medicine at the hospital. The program requires continuity with the same provider."
Everett's lips thinned.
"Don't insult me with paperwork excuses. You're not going back to her. Not now. Not while you're finally acting like you have a brain instead of hormones. I won't let you undo weeks of progress because you can't keep your head straight around one woman."
He leaned forward slightly.
"You want therapy? Fine. I'll approve a different doctor. Someone older. Someone with no history of public drama tied to this family. But Blackwood? No. That chapter's closed."
Isadora stood perfectly still.
Inside, something coiled tight anger, frustration, the sharp sting of being so close and still blocked. But she didn't let it show. Not a flicker.
"I understand," she said quietly. "Thank you for considering it."
Everett waved a hand... dismissal.
"Keep doing what you're doing. The expo. The board. Prove you're serious. Then maybe we'll talk about loosening the leash. But not yet. And not with her."
Isadora nodded once small, controlled.
She turned and left without another word.
The door clicked shut behind her.
In the corridor, she paused just for a second back against the wall, eyes closed.
He'd denied her.
After all the performances. The restraint. The perfect mask.
Denied.
She exhaled slowly.
Then she straightened.
Fine.
If Everett wouldn't open the door…
She'd find another way in.
She always did.
>>>>>>>>
Rowan was charting notes at the nurses' station when Sara appeared at her elbow, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Your lover's here," Sara said in a stage whisper, nudging her side.
Rowan's pen froze mid-signature. She looked up slowly.
"Who?"
Emma leaned over from the other side of the counter, grinning. "Carlos. With flowers. Big bouquet. Roses. The whole romantic cliche."
Rowan's stomach dropped.
She glanced toward the hallway entrance just as Carlos stepped through dark suit jacket open over a crisp shirt, a dozen red roses cradled in one arm.
He spotted her immediately and offered that quiet, hopeful smile.
Sara and Emma exchanged a look, then Sara patted Rowan's shoulder. "We'll give you two some privacy. Don't do anything we wouldn't do."
Emma winked. "Or do. We're rooting for you."
They slipped away down the corridor, giggling softly, leaving Rowan standing there with her clipboard clutched like a shield.
Carlos approached slowly careful, like he was afraid she might bolt.
"Hi," he said when he reached her. His voice was low, steady. "I hope this isn't a bad time."
Rowan set the clipboard down on the counter. Her throat felt tight. "No. It's… fine. Just between patients."
He nodded, then held out the roses. "These are for you."
She took them automatically soft petals brushing her fingers, the scent sweet and overwhelming.
"Thank you. They're beautiful."
Carlos exhaled once, like he'd been holding his breath the whole walk from the parking lot.
"Can we… talk? Somewhere private? Five minutes?"
Rowan hesitated glanced at the empty break room door down the hall then nodded.
They stepped inside. She closed the door behind them. The small room smelled faintly of old coffee and sanitizer.
Carlos didn't sit. He stood facing her, flowers now on the table between them like a fragile barrier.
"I've been thinking about this for a while," he started.
"Since the gala where Aunt introduced us. You were… different. Quiet, but not shy. Sharp. Kind in a way that didn't feel performative. I liked that. I liked you."
Rowan's pulse picked up. She crossed her arms small, protective.
"Carlos…"
He held up a hand gentle, not stopping her, just asking for a moment.
"I know things have been complicated. I know there's… history. With someone else. I've seen the shadows on your face, the way you pull away sometimes. I'm not asking you to pretend none of that happened. I'm not asking you to forget."
He took one careful step closer.
"I'm asking you to let me in. Because I love you, Rowan. I love how you fight for your patients even when you're exhausted. I love how you listen like you actually hear people. I love the way you laugh when you think no one's watching. And I want to build something real with you. Something steady. Something safe."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
Rowan's breath caught.
Carlos opened it slowly a simple solitaire diamond, elegant, understated, catching the fluorescent light.
"I want you to marry me," he said, voice soft but sure.
"Not because our families want it. Not because it's easy. Because I see a future with you one where you don't have to carry everything alone. Where you can come home to someone who chooses you every day. No drama. No games. Just us."
The room felt too small. Too quiet. Rowan stared at the ring, then at Carlos his open, earnest face, the faint hope in his eyes.
Her heart thudded hard, uneven.
She thought of Isadora.
Of the car. The tears. The possession. The way her name had sounded like a claim and a plea all at once.
She thought of the silence since cold, calculated, waiting.
She thought of Clara's hopeful smile, Mrs. Delgado's gentle pressure, the way everyone assumed she was "free" now.
She looked back at Carlos.
He was good.
He was safe.
He was everything she was supposed to want.
And yet...
Her fingers tightened around the bouquet stems until a thorn pricked her palm.
"I…" Her voice cracked. She swallowed. "I need time, Carlos. To think. This is… a lot."
His face softened no anger, no disappointment, just quiet understanding.
"Of course," he said.
He closed the box gently and slipped it back into his pocket. "I'm not going anywhere. Take all the time you need."
He stepped closer just enough to brush a soft kiss against her forehead.
"I meant every word," he murmured. "Whenever you're ready… I'll be here."
Then he turned and left quiet footsteps fading down the hall.
Rowan stood there alone, roses still in her arms.
The thorn prick on her palm welled a tiny bead of blood.
She stared at it.
She thought of Isadora again unbidden, sharp, inevitable.
And for the first time in weeks, the silence didn't feel like peace.
It felt like a countdown.
>>>>>>>
Isadora paced her bedroom with the phone on speaker, blinds half-closed against the late-afternoon sun.
She'd waited until the house quieted after lunch Everett napping in his study, Marcus at another meeting, Ryan and Mia god-knows-where scheming.
She dialed the group call. Lexi picked up first, Jade a second later.
"Dora?" Lexi's voice came through sharp and immediate. "What happened? You sound pissed."
Isadora stopped pacing, leaned against the window frame.
"Grandfather denied it. Therapy with Rowan. Flat no. Said he knows exactly why I want it, called it 'hormones' and 'that chapter's closed.' After all the board wins, the expo prep, the perfect-daughter act he still won't budge."
Lexi exploded.
"Not again! Not after you struggled so fucking hard! That old monk can't do this to you. You've been living like a nun for weeks no clubs, no lines, no nothing just to prove you're 'stable.' And he still treats you like a lovesick teenager? Fuck that."
Jade's voice cut in, calmer but edged.
"He's testing you. Classic Everett. He wants to see if you'll crack, go back to the old chaos so he has an excuse to lock you down tighter. Don't give him the satisfaction."
Isadora exhaled hard through her nose.
"We have to do something bigger. Impress him more. This isn't enough. He needs to believe I'm completely over her over the 'mature bitch doc,' as you keep calling her so he stops seeing every move I make as a ploy to get back to my doc."
Lexi snorted.
"Yeah, because nothing screams 'I'm over her' like begging to see her for 'therapy.' Genius plan, Dora."
Isadora ignored the jab.
"Exactly. So I need ideas. Something public. Visible. Undeniable proof that Rowan Blackwood is ancient history and I'm fully committed to the family, the company, the legacy whatever bullshit he wants to hear."
There was a brief pause both girls thinking.
Jade spoke first.
"Date someone else. Publicly. High-profile. Someone he can't dismiss as 'immature' or 'reckless.' A merger heir, a politician's kid, some clean-cut finance guy from the board's inner circle. Let the tabloids catch you at dinner, gala, whatever. Make it look serious. Everett will eat that up proof you're 'moving on' to someone 'appropriate.'"
Lexi jumped in immediately.
"Ooh yes. Or go bigger announce a new charity initiative in your name. Addiction recovery foundation or some shit. Tie it to the company's pharma pipeline. Put your face on it. Do interviews saying 'I've learned from my past struggles and now I'm giving back.' Make it look like Rowan was just a phase you've outgrown. He'll have to admit you're serious."
Isadora was quiet for a second, turning both ideas over.
"Charity could work," she said slowly. "It's clean. Corporate. Ties directly to the expo narrative 'turning the page.' I could launch it at the expo itself. Press release, speech, donation from the family trust. Everett can't say no to positive PR that makes Ravencroft Global look compassionate."
Jade laughed.
"And if you throw in a fake-dating angle on top? Double whammy. One public appearance with some boring-but-respectable guy, plus the charity launch? He'll have to loosen the leash. Maybe even let you 'graduate' from supervision."
Lexi's tone turned teasing again.
"But let's be real you're still gonna be thinking about the doc the whole time you're smiling for cameras with Mr. Suitable. You gonna be able to fake it convincingly?"
Isadora's voice dropped, almost amused. "I've been faking 'perfect' for weeks. A few staged dates and a heartfelt speech won't kill me."
She paused, then added quieter:
"But yeah. It's a means to an end. The second Everett believes I'm 'cured' of her… the second he stops watching so closely… I get my access back. One way or another."
Jade whistled low. "Cold-blooded. I love it."
Lexi laughed.
"Okay, so charity launch at the expo + fake boyfriend rollout. Who do we pick? Someone who won't get attached and complicate shit?"
Isadora's smile was small, invisible to them.
"I've got someone in mind. Quiet. Ambitious. Easy to control. And most importantly… someone who'll make Rowan see exactly what she's missing when the photos hit."
They all laughed sharp, conspiratorial.
Isadora ended the call a minute later.
She opened her contacts.