Isabelle’s POV
Walter Ryder was a man whose presence lingered long after he left a room. Even now, as I sat in my office staring blankly at the door he had walked through, I could feel his cold, calculating gaze bearing down on me. His warning replayed in my mind, his words like shards of ice cutting through my resolve.
“Take your son and disappear before Damion gets too close.”
It wasn’t a suggestion—it was a threat.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Walter Ryder had always been a puppet master, pulling strings from the shadows, and I wasn’t naïve enough to think his visit was just a courtesy call. He wanted me gone. He always had.
But this time, I wasn’t running.
Later that afternoon, I sat in my living room with Nathan, his laughter filling the space as he playe
