Chapter 43: The Elevator Ride

In another part of the city, within the grandeur of the Foster mansion, Isobel lay awake on a bed so soft it seemed to cradle her entire body.

Cool air drifted from the vents overhead, carrying the faint scent of lavender. A thick quilt cocooned her in warmth, and beneath her, the mattress yielded gently to every movement.

A year ago, such comfort would have felt unimaginable.

Back then, her nights had been spent on a narrow bed with a sagging frame, covered by threadbare blankets that did little to keep out the cold.

The memory felt distant now, buried beneath luxury and security.

But no matter how comfortable the bed was, sleep refused to come.

She turned onto her side. Then onto her back. Then onto her stomach.

The bed did not creaked, and there was no nagging complaint from her bedmate.

She should have been asleep but could not.

Kristoff’s words echoed relentlessly inside her head, pounding against her thoughts like drumbeats.

"If you had any dignity at all, you wouldn’t have sold yourself to me for money in the first place."

The words cut deeper with every repetition.

She had thought she had exhausted her tears earlier..

Apparently, she was wrong.

A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye and rolled silently down her temple before soaking into the pristine white pillow beneath her.

And then more followed.

How could he accuse her of climbing into Morgan’s bed?

Was that truly what he thought of her? Was she so filthy in his eyes?

Did I really do something wrong?

Did I sacrifice my morality for the orphanage? For those children, so they could still have a place they could call home?

The questions gnawed at her.

A metallic taste suddenly filled her mouth. Only then did she realize she had bitten her lower lip so hard that it had split.

Pain blossomed across the wound. But it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest.

Because despite everything, a part of her knew Kristoff’s words contained a cruel truth.

She had sold herself to him.

At that time, she had convinced herself it was a sacrifice worth making.

She had even seen him as her savior. The man who had appeared when she was drowning. The man who had offered her a lifeline.

Yet the Kristoff she saw today felt like a stranger.

He was so cold and his words were cruel and merciless.

Unable to stop herself, Isobel’s thoughts drifted back to the day they first met.

It had been only a year ago. Yet it felt like another lifetime.

She was rushing toward Foster Group Headquarters that morning, terrified of being late for her interview.

She had not anticipated the commute to be so difficult and traffic was too heavy.

The opportunity was too important. She couldn’t afford to lose it.

As she entered the gleaming marble lobby, she saw the elevator doors beginning to slide shut.

Panic surged through her.

"Wait!"

She sprinted forward and thrust out her hand. The sensors caught her movement. The doors reopened.

Relief flooded through her as she slipped inside. At least she would make it to her interview.

Breathing hard, she smoothed her wrinkled yellow blouse and her blue pencil skirt. She failed to notice the strange atmosphere inside the elevator.

The silence...

The tension...

The grim expressions on every face of the three men who were inside.

"The twenty-first floor, please," she said politely to the man standing nearest the control panel.

He wore rimless glasses that gave him the appearance of a scholar.

The man studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp and assessing. Then he pressed the button.

"Thank you."

Her voice sounded bright and pleasant against the oppressive silence.

The man looked at her again.

"You shouldn’t be in this elevator, Miss."

Isobel blinked. "I’m sorry?"

Confused, she glanced around.

That was when her gaze landed on the man standing alone in the far corner.

The moment she saw him, the rest of the world seemed to blur.

He was tall enough to tower over everyone else in the elevator.

The charcoal suit he wore appeared tailored exclusively for him, emphasizing broad shoulders and a powerful frame.

His skin carried the warm color of sun-kissed wheat.

His black hair was neat and immaculate, dark as raven feathers.

Strong brows framed a pair of deep brown eyes that seemed capable of seeing straight through a person.

A sharp nose, sculpted jawline, and perfectly balanced features completed a face so striking it seemed almost unreal.

He looked even more handsome than the movie stars she admired. More intimidating too.

For a brief moment, his eyes met hers. Something unreadable flickered within them.

Then he spoke.

"You’re new here?"

His voice was low and magnetic, smooth enough to command attention without effort.

"Yes," she replied softly, a flush appeared on her cheeks.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Kristoff’s mouth when he noticed the blush on her face.

The man with the rimless glasses let out a sigh.

"No wonder."

A smile that did not looked like a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You just boldly walked into the elevator reserved exclusively for the CEO."

The color drained from Isobel’s face. Then immediately returned twice as strong. Heat rushed into her cheeks.

Suddenly everything made sense.

The crowd gathered around the foyer waiting for another elevator.

The hesitant glances she had received when she entered.

She had assumed the elevator was full and everyone was simply waiting for another elevator so they and their companions could ride together.

Instead, they had been avoiding this elevator altogether.

"Oh..."

Mortification swallowed her whole. She quickly lowered her head.

"I’m so sorry," she stammered. "I didn’t know."

Silence settled over the elevator once more.

Isobel kept her head lowered, wishing the polished floor would open up and swallow her whole.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed movement.

The CEO’s lips had curved upward.

A smile.

Not the polite smile of a businessman.

Not the mocking smile she expected after her blunder.

But it was a genuine one.

It softened the sharp lines of his face and transformed his imposing features into something unexpectedly warm.

"It’s alright," Kristoff said.

His voice was calm, carrying a hint of amusement.

"And don’t look so frightened, Miss. I don’t eat people."

Isobel blushed even more and then she smiled.

And that one smile captivated Kristoff.