aled haunted her every waking moment. She needed to talk to him. Killian Blackwood might have vanished after that night, but he couldn't ignore this forever. Heart pounding, Isla grabbed her pho

terprises** The lobby of Blackwood Enterprises was all glass and steel, sleek and intimidating, much like the man who owned it. Isla's heels clicked against the polished marble floors as she approached the front desk. A well-dressed receptionist eyed her with polite curiosity. "Do you have an appointment, Miss?" "I need to see Killian Blackwood," Isla said, trying to keep her voice steady. The receptionist's expression didn't change. "Mr. Blackwood does not take unscheduled visitors." Of course he doesn't. Isla inhaled deeply. "Can you at least tell him that Isla Carter is here? He'll want to see me." The receptionist gave a tight-lipped smile. "I'm afraid that's not possible." Frustration bubbled up. Isla wasn't leaving without an answer. Before she could argue, the elevator doors across the room dinged open-and there he was. Killian Blackwood stepped out, dressed in a sharp navy suit, his presence commanding the entire space. He walked with purpose, phone in hand, sharp eyes scanning through business reports. For a moment, Isla was frozen, her heart slamming against her ribs. Then, as if he sensed her, his gaze flickered up. Their eyes locked. The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them. Killian's expression didn't change-not a flicker of recognition, not a hint of surprise. He simply glanced at her, as if she were no more than a passing stranger, and continued walking. The dismissal was a knife to her chest. Fury ignited inside her. No. He did not get to walk away from this. "Killian!" she called, her voice sharp enough to cut through the air. He didn't stop. Her fists c