Chapter 2

The business card read, "Isabella Clarke, Concept Designer", followed by a string of numbers. Without hesitation, Xavier tore the card in half and tossed it into a nearby trash can. "You should go back," he said, glancing at the woman still standing by his side. "My car's damaged, so I can't drive you." She rushed to his window as he got back into his car. She asked desperately, "What about our dinner plans?" Xavier glanced at her, raising his eyes slightly—a look that usually made women swoon, though he seemed oblivious to its effect. "I have a family dinner tonight. What do you think?" he replied with his characteristic arrogance. The woman lowered her gaze, feeling disappointed. She knew she could never compete with his family obligations. The sports car roared to life and sped away, leaving behind a gust of hot air. The woman stood there, frustrated and fuming. She had been pursuing Xavier for nearly two months, finding him surprisingly challenging to win over despite his playboy reputation. With her looks and status, she had hoped to become a casual fling at least, but he remained completely uninterested. Today she had just returned from her trip and called him. To her surprise, Xavier, who was usually indifferent, actually said he would come to pick her up. She thought he had finally been won over by her charm, but now he had left her stranded halfway. How infuriating! ... Meanwhile, at Orchid Residence, Isabella pulled up to find a man in an impeccable suit standing by the entrance. His calm presence was like still water. "Douglas," Isabella called out sweetly as she met his gaze. This was Douglas Valdez, the eldest son of the Valdez family. "I hope you had a good trip," Douglas replied with a gentle smile. Xavier's grandmother, Monica Winston, used to tell Isabella and Olivia Sinclair, his mother, that although Douglas and Xavier were brothers, they shared nothing but similar eyebrows. Douglas was like spring water—gentle and warm in temperament—while Xavier was like ocean waves—untamed and difficult to control. Isabella did not fully understand the comparison back then, but years later, it made perfect sense. She realized she had terrible taste in men for falling for someone like Xavier. "Mom and Dad are inside. Let's go in," Douglas said. He was about to get her suitcase when he noticed the damage to her car and asked, "What happened here?" Isabella replied sheepishly, "I accidentally hit someone's car." "Are you hurt?" Douglas frowned, looking her over with concern. "I'm fine. I was the one who ran into them," Isabella assured him. Douglas looked like he wanted to say more, but the sound of a roaring engine interrupted him. They both turned to see who was arriving. Since Isabella's car had just driven through, the gates had not closed yet, and a black sports car shot straight through, speeding up toward them. The car maintained its speed until the last possible moment, screeching to a halt barely three feet away from them. Both Isabella and Douglas frowned at the dramatic entrance. The door opened and out stepped Xavier. Isabella recognized his car as soon as it came in, and she was not surprised to see him now. Instinctively, her eyes darted to the passenger side. After a few seconds, no one else got out. "What happened to your car?" Douglas noted the dented side. Xavier placed his keys onto the car's roof and replied casually, "Some blind driver hit me." Isabella bristled at his comment. She snapped, "Can't you ever speak nicer?" Xavier met her gaze with a raised eyebrow. "Did I say anything wrong?" "Oh, right. That blind driver was also rude enough to use high beams in the underground parking lot—nearly blinded me," he added sarcastically. Their verbal fight continued as Isabella retorted, "Well, if you're such a skilled driver, why were you speeding in a parking lot? You could've gotten yourself killed." "Still better than someone wandering around the place," Xavier shot back. Neither was willing to back down from their argument. Douglas stood by, quickly grasping the situation. Isabella and Xavier had been bickering since childhood, and nothing had changed. What he did not know was that these two had secretly dated and broken up. "You were at the airport?" Douglas asked Xavier. Xavier replied casually, "Yeah. I was there to pick… someone up." Then, he brushed past them and headed into the house, treating everyone with his typical indifference. Douglas grabbed Isabella's suitcase, and they followed behind, chatting as they walked. The aroma of home-cooked food grew stronger as they approached the kitchen. Isabella felt nervous. After all, it had been five years since she had last seen the Valdez parents. Her pace slowed until she finally stopped altogether, falling a bit behind Douglas. Sensing this, he turned back to look at her. A short distance away stood a woman, elegantly dressed and radiating warmth. They locked eyes, and they immediately felt a lump in their throats. "Mom," Isabella managed, her voice dry with emotion. Olivia nodded several times in response. Although they were not related by blood, their bond was just as strong as the one Olivia shared with her sons. Isabella had joined the Valdez family at age two, with no memories of her biological parents. She had lived at the Valdez residence with Xavier's grandparents, Monica and Luke Valdez. Olivia, who was under 30 years old then, was strong-willed and proud. She had seen Monica's decision to adopt Isabella under her husband's, Benjamin Valdez's, name as an insult. She did not want to raise someone else's child, so she kept her distance. Benjamin was devoted to Olivia and supported her decision, leaving Monica to care for young Isabella. As a result, Isabella only saw the Valdez family of four during the holidays. During these visits, Monica would always point to Olivia and Benjamin, telling Isabella, "This is your mom, this is your dad." Then, she would carry on with introducing her two brothers. Though spirited and lovable, Young Isabella never managed to say "Mom" or "Dad". It was not until she was about four years old that she occasionally tested the waters with those words. Olivia was not an ill-natured person. She understood Isabella's early loss and had not stopped her from using these terms. However, she did not respond, either. Then, when Isabella was seven years old, she fell into the pool while playing with Xavier during New Year's celebrations at the Valdez residence. That night, she developed a high fever. In the middle of the night, the house was still brightly lit. Olivia stood at the doorway, watching the tiny figure lying in bed. Isabella's hair lay smooth against the pillow, her beautiful face as red as an apple from the fever.